#plus they look very silly when the whites of their eyes are shown

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 28 brb x oc

a/n: newsflash, these two are fucking nerds. Also, kinda short because I somehow lost half of the chapter twice and i decided to shorten it before I just fucking c r i e d

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff FLUUUUUUUUFFFFF

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22

-

Beatrice found out, on the drive back home from the hotel, that Bradley really liked video games but he hadn’t had the time to play any for a long time. She questioned him if he had any console or pc he could play any with, he sheepishly said he had a ps4 hidden somewhere in his apartment that he never really used.

Now, Beatrice loved video games but she was more of a pc kinda gal than a console one. She questioned him what sort of games he liked and he shrugged with the response of “Any but Aviation Simulator.” with a silly chuckle since he was so proud of his joke. She kept that information in her brain all the way back, during helping Penny and Shells at the bar and once she was inside his apartment.

She questioned him where his playstation would be hiding at, to which he just stared at her for a couple seconds, then muttered a less than convincing “In the closet.” Even if it wasn’t there, she was determined to find it. She opened his closet, rummaged through the colorful fabrics of his Hawaiian shirts before using the built in drawers as a ladder, checking the upper compartment where a bunch of boxes were.

Tucked in the corner she saw the blue and white box, letting out a triumphant sound as she tugged it forward, dropping down to the ground with it in her hands, “There you go.” she smiles, handing him the box “Let’s plug it in!”

Rooster followed her to his living room with a chuckle, “You seem more excited than me when I got this.”

“Well, I like video games Roos,” she says, helping him take the playstation out of its box, “We could play some games together!”

He looked in her direction, pulling the cables out first with a smile, “I wouldn’t mind that.” he says as he sets up the console on the coffee table, pushing it a bit closer to the tv so the cable wouldn’t be stretched out. Stood by his side, telling him if he needed help she’d try her best to, which in response she only got an once over with a smile, “I don’t mind you just standing there looking pretty.” he says, “Helps with morale.”

Beatrice laughs softly, crouching down next to him, tucking a strand of hair that fell from her trusty bun, “Morale huh?” he nods with a boyish grin, before he leans back from the TV to turn the console on. They had to wait a few minutes, but the tv finally shone with the known blue quickly changing to the main menu where the games were shown.

He had quite a selection, from Far Cry to Hitman, his first one being Red Dead Redemption 2 a game she played twice and cried twice. He checked the controller to see if it was connected, which it was, pushing himself to his feet as he moved down the line to the game library.

Of course there’d be more games, he had the complete Assassin’s Creed collection, God of War Remastered and unbelievably he also had Saints Row. She smiles as she stands up as well, her eyes flicking to every title while he moves around to check if everything was in there, “I don’t know why but I’m not surprised you have Call of Duty installed either.” he just chuckles, going down his list until he reached the end, “And Mortal Kombat! Oh my God, we have to play it!”

“Sure,” he begins, “But I’ll tell you gorgeous, I’m very good at MK.” there’s that boyish grin again, that nostalgic feeling she had back when he first made the pancakes. He pulled out the other controller from the little stand giving it to her as he pressed the Mortal Kombat icon.

The two of them settled on the couch, waiting for the loading screen to show up and they could check the character roster. She curiously watched Rooster pick Sub-Zero with a chuckle, “Oh, you are a Sub-Zero main?” 

“Sure am.” he smiles, leaning back on his couch, “What about you, gorgeous? Kitana? Sonya?”

But Beatrice only gave him a smile, looking back at the screen as she chose on the roster. Bradley blinked when he turned his head back to the tv. It wasn’t Kitana, or Sonya or not even Mileena. Beatrice was a Scorpion main. She just gave him a cheeky look, leaning back onto the couch with the controller resting on top of her lap. Bradley laughed with his eyebrows up, “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be then.” he says, “Alright, cool.”

He didn’t tell her, but he was happily surprised when he found out Beatrice liked video games because that was another thing they could do together! Every time she surprised him and everytime he fell even more in love with her. He thanked whatever deity was responsible for dropping her into his life like that.

Interestingly enough, he wasn’t really planning on meeting anyone for a while.Ever since he returned to TOPGUN a few months back, he came as a single man without any reason to get a girlfriend. Hook ups? Sure. Short lived relationships? Yeah.Did he regret some of them? Absolutely. He didn’t plan on checking Beatrice out nor develop this massive crush on her, him at thirty six years old with a goddamn crush.

He denied himself for weeks, but obviously Nat figured it out. Just seeing Beatrice made his heart flutter, even if she scurried away from and avoided him the best she could, he just couldn’t really help himself. 

Bradley remembers what happened when his mother lost his father, she was very strong and never cried in front of him, but he knew she did cry. Sometimes he’d come home from school and his mother’s eyes would be red, but she’d have such a bright smile and hug him so tight he’d never question it. In his mind, he didn’t want to be the reason for someone else’s tears like that.

It was a fear he still had, even more now that he had Beatrice, of not coming back. But he also…couldn’t see himself without her, he loved this woman more than he ever thought he would. She latched onto his heart and he didn’t want her to let go, he just wanted to come back to her safely. 

Crazy, he thought, how much he felt for her in the short time they’ve been together. He knows that Mav said it wasn’t strange but it was. He felt connected to Beatrice in a way he had never felt with anyone else, their conversations worked, their silence together didn’t bother him, he was added into her hobbies and interests so easily he felt like he knew her for ages…he just felt happy, really happy in a way he hadn’t in a while.

He was bitter for a good part of his life, angry, thinking he’d deserve nothing like the love he so wanted. While others got married at a young age, he didn’t, he just went with the flow with whatever girl who got interested but made it clear it was a one time thing and nothing else. His face hardened at the memory of Chloe, who while at first seemed to be a nice girl, immediately started acting like they were a thing - which he told her before they even hooked up it wouldn’t happen.

She was pretty and smart, but she had no idea how a relationship could work. She also dropped very unpleasant questions about his parents that he clearly didn’t feel like answering. He didn’t know why she was so…invasive, clambering over his boundaries like a rabid bull and just wanting to know more and more about him when he wasn’t ready to share.

It was a hookup. Nothing more. They weren’t dating. They weren’t going to date. She tried contacting him after their hook up, but she was eventually transferred out of state and never talked to him again,which he was very thankful for. There were others after her that understood it was a one night thing, just to have fun, nothing serious. Nothing like Beatrice was.

Part of him wondered if he truly deserves someone like her. Someone so sweet and kind and understanding, who believes in him so much, who looks at him with stars in her eyes and who worries about his well being. He fucked up so much, he did such shitty things when he was younger and even when he was a grown man– how was he deserving of her? 

He gave her a look by the corner of his eye, seeing her eyes focused on the tv, her lower lip inside her mouth in concentration as her fingers moved on the controller. She was good, almost as good as he was, but the best was that she was having fun. With him. Playing video games together.

They just clicked together, two people from different walks of life who’d never met were not the circumstances thrown in their paths, who fit in like pieces of a puzzle. Even if he had doubts of his own worth when it came to her, his own demons that still needed working, he was glad she was there, right beside him, wearing comfortable jeans and a Van Halen t-shirt with her hair up in a bun. 

She won, unsurprisingly so, letting out a happy sound as Scorpion just ripped Sub-Zero in half with his fatality. “I won!” she says with a grin, turning to face him, “Guess I’m not as rusty as I thought.”

Rooster chuckled, lifting his hands in defense, “I guess not, gorgeous…rematch?”

“Oh,absolutely!”

-

“There’s also Mass Effect, the trilogy, I think you’d like it.” she comments, watching him play Red Dead Redemption 2 and trying to keep quiet about spoilers. He was still pretty early in the game and like her, he loved exploring his surroundings before doing main missions so she could help with things that she knew wouldn’t give him too much info about how the game would go.

“Yeah?” he asks while yanking herbs off the ground, “What’s it about?”

“It’s an action role playing game set in space, you play as Commander Shepard, you could be male or female.” she explains, supporting her chin on her hand, “You uh, have to save the whole universe pretty much. You are also part of the Alliance Navy too, so.”

He chuckles, walking Arthur back to the black Clydesdale horse he fondly named ‘Tracker’ “Seems interesting, you going to help me out with it too?”

“If you want,” she says with a grin, “It’s my favorite game series…well that and Dragon Age. Both are made by the same developer.”

“Well, if it’s your favorite I’m going to give it a try.” Rooster said, galloping away from the forest he was in back to the closest settlement. They’ve been together ever since early afternoon, luckily Jolene wasn’t a clingy dog when it came to Beatrice being absent for a while or else she’d be already complaining about being alone for such long hours. 

Beatrice watched Bradley play with a fond smile, sometimes gently combing through his golden brown tresses whenever he’s too focused to talk. Her phone pings, making her pull it out of her back pocket without taking her eyes off the tv, only dropping when the device is near her face.

Ev (15:05)

Hey, good news, I got one more person for the team. We’re full now.

Bea (15:06)

Ev that’s awesome! :) Who is it?

Ev (15:07)

Jennifer, remember her? She used to hang out with us before she transferred to another college. She moved back now.

Bea (15:08)

Ohhh, yes I remember her! So, what 's the plan?

Ev (15:09)

Since I know you and Shells have your dance class and work at night time, the best time for us to train would be around noon. At least Wednesday and then the weekends. I think it could work for all of us.

Beatrice’s smile dropped, looking back to where her hand was still connected to Rooster’s amazingly soft hair, combing the strands through her fingers. But…that would mean she wouldn’t have much time with him during the afternoons. But she promised she’d join the team and they didn’t have much time, so they had to work with what they had.

Bea (15:11)

Sounds great, where are we going to train?

Evelyn sent her a map with the location of an open gym, mentioning there wouldn’t be too many people around the time they’d go but they’d have at least two hours before people actually came by. Two hours was more than enough. She thanked Evelyn, who said their first practice will be this Wednesday and to wear something light.

Beatrice dropped the phone to her lap, looking back at the tv as she felt the nerves slowly climbing back inside of her. While she did play volleyball a few months ago, and was incredibly embarrassed because Rooster was watching her, she wondered if she was…good enough to play in this charity game.

Who’d be their opponents? It is an official team which should be a compliment since Prof.Richards thought they were good as one but, was it smart? She should’ve asked these questions when Evelyn first told her about it, now she can’t go back. It was for charity, which was a noble cause, so she shouldn’t feel worried.

Bea, however, brought the side of her thumb into her mouth, biting the skin around it with her eyebrows furrowed. What if the team obliterated them? Oh, that was a possibility.  The more she thought about it, the more it made her feel nervous about playing the actual game. She wished she was as level headed as Evelyn was when she told Beatrice they’d go against a professional team. 

Bradley moves his gaze away from the gang members he just killed towards Beatrice, seeing her chewing the corner of her nail with a frown, “Babe,hey,” he takes hold of the hand against her lips, gently pulling it out and snapping her out of her thoughts, “You are going to chew your thumb off in that rate, what’s the matter?”

Beatrice sighs, “I’m just thinking of the volleyball game we’ll be part of…I don’t know why I said yes. We’ll be playing against a professional team, Brad!” she throws her free hand up in the air for emphasis “We got no chance.”

Rooster furrowed his eyebrows, giving her a confused look, “Do you not remember annihilating Hangman at the beach? “ She makes a disgruntled noise, looking at her jeans, “Bea, come on. You are great, you’ll give them a run for their money.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, sighing quietly but leaning her head back against the couch, “I guess…I’m just nervous.”

He pauses the game, dropping the controller on his thigh with his lips pursed, “Can I go?” she blinks towards him, “I wanna watch you beat the shit out of people with a volleyball.”

“...but–Roos.. I mean–” she just stares at him for a while, “Of course you can go, if you want. You are giving me way too much credit, you know?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugs absently, “My girlfriend is a powerhouse in a lot of ways but especially when it comes to volleyball?” Beatrice blushes bright red, but she’s smiling sweetly at him, playing with her fingers. “Bea,” he cups her chin with one of his hands, giving her a grin, “You are a powerhouse, you’ll destroy them.”

Beatrice laughs softly, looking down at the inside of his wrist then back at him, “Okay.” she says, crawling over to hug his torso with a deep inhale of his cologne, “Okay…” he grins down at her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple when she rests her head on his lap, her back to the tv and her long brown hair sprawled over his jeans clad thighs.

He runs his hand through her hair, tucking the thick strands behind her ear as she looks up at him with her eyes half open, “Going to sleep on me?”

“You are very comfortable.” she smiles, tucking her hands under her head as he pressed play on the game once more. Beatrice inhaled deeply, but then turned around so she could watch him play the game with her head still on his lap.

Her phone pinged yet again and she picked it up. Evelyn once more, but this time she asked ‘Hey, you know what I just noticed? Our volleyball team was our DnD team back in college.’ and Beatrice blinked in surprise. Oh my God, it was true.

They did have a DnD group back then, with Evelyn as the DM. They were still new but they wanted to try it out, they rarely had the time to actually play it besides a couple weekends but it was so fun. Just like volleyball, it was a thing the group shared in common, one thing they could play together whenever they had the time. 

They had a campaign and they had character sheets, but very seldom were the times they were all in the same spot together to actually do something about it. The nervousness from before turned into excitement as she typed back if Evelyn wanted to continue their old campaign.

Ev (15:33)

I still have everything, that's why I messaged you.

Bea (15:34)

I’m okay with that, but I’ll just have to talk to Brad. He’s on leave and I want to spend with him :<

Ev (15:35)

It’s okay, at best we’ll do it once a week, we all work too. I’ll let the others know.

Beatrice smiled, placing the phone screen down on top of her chest as she looked back at the screen when she heard the obvious sounds of gunshots coming from the game. Looking up at Bradley with her eyebrow up, she bit back a laugh at how intense he was looking at the tv and making sure every single gang member died.

He must’ve felt her eyes on him because his own gaze dropped down towards her briefly, looking up at the screen with a smile, “What?”

“You look very focused.”

“Trying not to die, babe.” he says with a soft laugh, the clicking of the buttons adding to the background noise, “Who messaged you?”

“Ev, she was reminding me how our volleyball group was also our DnD group.” she smiles “The girls might want to return to our old campaign, we never really…did much with it. We didn’t have a lot of time as I told you before. We don’t have a lot of experience but we had fun.”

Rooster pauses the game, tossing the controller aside with his arms spread on the back of the couch, “And you guys planning on getting together again? To play it?”

Beatrice shrugged, grabbing the hand on top of her head to play with his calloused fingers, running her nail over the lines on his palm, “Maybe once a week, I don’t know, we still have the practice…and I want to spend my time with you.”

“Aw, babe…you keep sweet talking like that you’ll make me fall in love with you.”

“I thought you were already in love with me,” she replies with a grin, “And I was in love with you.”

Rooster’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to bring her up to his chest, hugging her tightly. Beatrice squeaked a laugh, muffled against the fabric of his white tee, “God, you are so cute.” he murmurs against her temple, “I can’t get enough of you, I swear.”

Her smile when she lifts her head to face him could put the sun to shame, her cheeks reddening like fresh apples he wanted to take a bite of. She just leaned up to kiss his lips, snuggling against his chest, “Thank you, Roos.” she begins, “For being here with me.”

Rooster smiles, pecking her forehead, “Always,gorgeous." he says, holding her close to his chest before he presses play yet again, "Now, you said there are treasures around this area?"

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

[itsclydebitches]

You know something that just occurred to me about the new trailer? There’s very little combat in it.

We are shown a couple of ‘fake out’ moments. Meaning, Blake is reaching for her weapon, but we know the end result of that encounter is her and Weiss getting captured by the vines, not successfully enacting a cool plan to escape. Yang has her arm stolen, but she just takes a comedy swipe at the guard playing tug-of-war with her. Ruby is playing this game with the Queen that will presumably require her teammates to battle the other pieces, but I suspect that the rules of the game will severely limit the choreography and indeed, we see two pieces clashing via their own, wooden weapons.

The closest we get to seeing a normal RWBY fight is Yang punching the back of this creature’s skull:

And isn’t that a little weird? Sure, they could just be keeping all the Real Fights a surprise, but my point here is that RWBY is built on its combat. That’s all the story was at first: a vehicle for cool abilities and even cooler choreography. Even beyond the butt jokes and mice armies, this trailer felt off to me in a way I couldn’t articulate last night, but now I think it’s that lack of combat; the heart of RWBY. Compare this trailer to Volume 8 with Nora powering up her weapon, the group facing off against the Ace Ops, grimm cornering them in the desolate streets, the bike chase to get Oscar back, Penny powering up as a Maiden. Or even Volume 5, the We Sat in A House Until the Finale Volume, that still shows Blake hunting down White Fang members, Yang facing off against the bar goon (complete with red eyes), shots of Weiss with her fire dust, Raven looming over her captive, the group running in a panic, Sun dodging a bullet, Lionheart getting choked by Salem’s grimm, Weiss’ knight. Even in the Volumes where these moments were fleeting or misleading (the group is just running towards Lionheart’s office) the trailer kept things action focused.

Meanwhile, Volume 9′s trailer is... not really combat. Or even external conflict. It’s talking, an auction, walking, a (deadly) game, more talking, a cat, running with the cat, floating lily pads, mushrooms, Ruby on her knees, a pile of leaves, an owl, a knight looking out at something, more talking, Ruby fainting---the exact opposite of an action sequence. And though a part of me is going, “Yes! After a Volume like 8′s they need some downtime to hash all this out!” the trailer simultaneously isn’t reassuring me that the writers have used this downtime well. Instead, it feels like the Volume is more concerned with a) pretty backgrounds, b) background characters, c) comedy, and d) philosophical questions the story isn’t equipped to answer than it is in-depth character development or the action sequences RWBY is known for. As some previous Volumes have shown us, when the writing is lackluster RWBY gets by on its awesome fights. So this Volume is in trouble if there’s little ‘real’ action and the story is struggling to write a compelling ‘We walked through a cool looking fantasy land while discussing our hardships and occasionally engaging in a silly gag’ setup. I’m thinking about Crescent Rose lying alone in the sand and Jaune’s broken sword. I was already disappointed that Blake’s weapon was fixed off screen in Volume 7, but will these new losses even matter if the Volume is primarily non-combat filler?

Of course, here’s the always needed disclaimer that yeah, the Volume itself might be VERY different from how the trailer presents it. Plus, it’s not like I expect there to be no major battles. But it’s nevertheless weird to me that RWBY, of ALL shows, has given us a promotion that doesn’t seem very interested in combat.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[skeletalheartattack]

favorie animal?

opossums if i had to wager!!! just look at these beasts... they're the sweetest little beeboos you ever done did see i say...

#ask #anon #theyre so precious... #they got they little fingerless gloves... they fuzzy coats... and they dark eyeshadow... #plus they look very silly when the whites of their eyes are shown #plus they can hold things in their hands cause they got thumbs :) #hard to say what my second fav animal would be #i love big dogs. lova saint bernard.... #OH perhaps platypus #i love those beasts too. theyre so weird its cool... #you got a duck bill. a beaver tail. you lay eggs. and youve got poisonous claws? #dude omg youre so animal.... #i have an old purple platypus plush from looong ago #basically my brother went out with his friend to some place and won it from a crane game #but the friend left it at our house and never came back for it so i kept it #he use to be very fuzzy appearently. i looked up what he originally looked like and. yeah hes been through some things #he had a tear in his beak that i had to sew back together #i was around the age of 9 or so... so my sewing job wasnt the best #like the fabric is pinched in with how i sewed it back together #i used some pink string i think so it was very noticable #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! #i almost typed ''thank you for the possum'' #theyre in my mind girls... the opossums.... #all i can hear is snif snif snif snif snif snif snif snif snif snif snif

[laundrycannon]

Spamton and Papyrus are Strangely Similar...

An interesting thing I found is that Spamton and Papyrus (from Undertale at least) both have a lot of pretty similar qualities. 

List of similar qualities: 

-Both act very prideful and loud (both talk in caps) but are actually very obviously insecure 

-Both are not very good in handling friendships and are very lonely 

-Both loudly project their own feelings on the main character while denying they feel these feelings themselves 

-Both willing believe anyone who stops to listen to them for a little while is definitely their friend (Papyrus with Frisk and Spamton with Kris) 

-Both have eccentric dressing styles that they find the height of fashion 

-Both like cars and driving (Papyrus with his car bed and dreams of driving and Spamton when he sold cars and when he talks to Kris about taking rides around town in special “Cungaderos”) 

-Both have people talk about them behind their backs in a sort of pitying way 

-Both loudly exclaim their dreams and how they hope to achieve them. They were both very optimistic about these dreams while others say they would never achieve these dreams. These dreams are not actually what would make them happy though. (Getting into the royal guard, becoming a Big Shot) 

-Both can heal you when battling (Papyrus heals you if you lose at his battle, Spamton can heal you if you press F1 even though he is fighting you) 

-Both really like Mettaton (Papyrus likes Mettaton in general, Spamton really likes how Mettaton’s body looks even if he doesn’t know him personally) 

-Both have a unique laugh (Papyrus’ NYEH HEH HEH and Spamton’s HAEAHAEAHAEA) 

-Both appear to easily idolize people on TV (Papyrus loves Mettaton’s shows and idolizes being like him, Spamton really idolizes Mike from the 1997 Big Shot commercial and idolizes being like him) 

It seems like they are very similar. If this is true though, why do they seem to have such differing views on life? It may be that Spamton is older than Papyrus and was led down a bad path by someone he thought would help him. In a way, Papyrus may be what Spamton was like before he was abandoned by everyone, controlled unwillingly, and shown so much depressing information about the world that he lives in that he went crazy. Spamton (despite fandom headcannons) also doesn’t have a brother and was grown up told that he needed to Advertise as an Addison (even if he wasn’t very good at it without help). 

It is also implied that Spamton was exactly like the Addisons before but was shrunk in by falling into the Queen’s acid lake. If this was true, he may have looked a little like this picture below (I’m also just noticing this now, but I think the green pants on the other Addisons may have also been a clue of what happened to Spamton’s legs as the green is the same color as the Queen’s acid). If he did look like this, then he also would have appeared to pose a very similarly to Papyrus and had his white complexion.

Other visual similarities include their perpetually smiling faces. Spamton himself also has pointed cheekbones that look skeletal. Both of their face portraits also have slightly off-kilter eyes (one shorter or smaller than the other).

They also both do the silly eyes.

I wonder if this has implications to why Spamton was seen as important by that mysterious caller that is implied to be Gaster… 

Plus some other weird connections...? 

-Spamton used to go to the Cyber Grill with his friends before he was abandoned by them. Papyrus is stated to really hate Grillby’s. 

-Swatch has stated that Spamton was a valued customer of his Café at Queen’s mansion. It seems like the only food they serve there is SpaghettiCode besides the ButlerJuice. Papyrus loves Spaghetti. 

-Papyrus very much likes order and cleanliness. He hates how trashy Sans room can get. Spamton is noted to really hate living in his, “GOD DAMN GARBAGE CAN.” 

-Papyrus is noted to like cool sunglasses in promotional art (so much so that he sometimes puts sunglasses on his shoulders). Spamton also likes cool sunglasses.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton #spamton deltarune #deltarune spamton #papyrus #gaster #sans #undertale #deltarune chapter 2 theory #theories #theory #I'm not sure what this means but it is interesting

[goosedawn]

//Oh gods, welp, here I go [cracks knuckles]

//Tiny farmer Techno Au,,,, prepare for some future lore cjkhcxk

Timestamps from: "I Became the Mayor of Skyblock" by Technoblade

--

(5:39) "I decided to call in an old rival..." - Technoblade

Techno continues on with his life for days on, but finally, he somehow finds his way to society again, seeing that the entire town has been taken over by a tyrant of a mayor. The townspeople called for aid, and from the depths of his cold heart, he decided to help (....what do you mean he only did it so people would buy his potatoes-).

For a bit, he did his work by himself, only getting help from some other living scarecrows (listen, I really like the idea of some scarecrows coming alive [cough] PHIL [cough]), TimeDeo and Jyn (...? Is that how you spell their name?). (Dunno what the process for taking over the mayor would be exactly but,,, chchskdlcx,,,)

But you can only do so much work with... living scarecrows. With a bit of reluctance, he calls for help from SquidKid. And then together they defeat Dante :]

(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)

--

(6:31) "Is there any way to do the teleport room without just like.. guessing?" - SquidKid

(6:36) "You are like... little baby, watch this." - Technoblade

-

Being tiny has its perks.

"Wait, what do you mean you can solve this maze in an hour or less?"

Techno turned towards the bigger hybrid, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly stared up at them. SquidKid only gives him a baffled look back, their tentacle-like hair slightly sprung up to further show their confusion.

He knows this only because he's known the man for far longer than they've known him.

He knows more personal information than should be shared, somehow finding the other farmer's parent's numbers along with a few other things. He had jokingly pocketed away the parent's number in the back of his mind, although, he had no real plans of ever using it. Well, maybe he had played with the idea of calling SquidKid's parents to dunk on the fact that a wild borrower had been winning their competition, but he ultimately decided not to for obvious reasons.

He knows the hybrid's schedule like the back of his hand, having to work around it for the better part of an entire year. Using that knowledge, he had sabotaged countless of SquidKid's tools, poking small, unnoticeable holes into their hoses and irrigation systems.

And he knows SquidKid's behavior from how they speak to how they express any sort of emotion. Lies were easily debunked from the small twitch of the corner of their mouth as they suppressed a smile, and anger was easily shown from how their strange hair pieces would spike up.

Yet, he can't help but feel slightly at unease in front of them. He supposes it's only natural, seeing that there's a huge height difference between them. Plus, this was practically the first time they've been closer than two fields of length in between them. Well, disregarding the times he's gone snooping around the bigger farmer's place, but that's neither here nor there.

"Squid, look at me," he raises his hand, gesturing towards himself, "I'm tiny, yes?" the squid hybrid nodded slowly, and he pointed at the stalks of tall fern and crop, "to you, this would basically be a wall you can't get through. For me, though...."

He jumped off his perch, tightly holding his trusty bag and sliding towards the flora before easily disappearing behind the thicket and appearing moments later at eye level, holding the stalk of the crops easily,

"It's easy to go through."

SquidKid makes a quiet 'oh' sound with another nod of their head, looking slightly in awe. The amazed look turns to one of confusion again, though, and he awaited their next question with a raised eyebrow, "but... the maze is big, how are you going to get through it all without tiring?"

Techno grinned, lifting a hand to his mouth and loudly whistling. He doesn't hesitate to slide back to the floor as a blur of white fur bounds towards him.

"Carl!" he exclaims, wrapping his hands around the rabbit's fluffy neck and combing through the fur with his fingers. He backs away to pull out a broken-off piece of a carrot, feeding it to the eager bunny before turning towards the astonished squid hybrid with a grin, "my noble steed," he waves a hand towards the still feeding rabbit.

"You tamed a rabbit," they dumbly point out, having to metaphorically pick up their jaw off of the floor.

"Yup, I did. you can stop gawking now," he huffed, "you're going to catch a bug with your mouth if you keep your mouth wide open."

"...And you named it Carl?"

"What kind of question is that?" he snorts, shaking his head, "yes, I named him Carl, and yes he's going to be the one helping me through the maze. Any other silly questions?"

The man stumbles over their words for a second, and he amusedly watches from below, "I- yeah, yeah, you bozo," they finally settle on saying.

"Alright, cool, I'm going to go find the exit now," he turns away from the hybrid, climbing on the back of the rabbit's back, "see you there."

He doesn't give SquidKid the chance to respond, already setting off through the thicket. And he sure doesn't suppress the grin that crawls up his face as Carl bounds past stalks and stalks of crops.

Having distracted SquidKid enough to get away, the bigger farmer had barely thought to ask how they themselves would traverse the maze.

They must have realized soon enough, though, since not seconds later, he hears a strangled yell of his name along with a loud groan.

--

Pain, it's been too long since I've written something /Lh

--

"(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)"

When the townspeople come to greet the new mayor, they come thinking that it's SquidKid who's done everything since it's always been SquidKid going into town and doing the talking- the scarecrows being unable to do so for obvious reasons, and Techno unable to do so without revealing his entire existence.

So when the sheepish farmer calmly explains that he's just a helper of the mayor, they're... rightfully confused. At first, they want to know the real identity of the mayor, but SquidKid wearily tries explaining that said mayor really doesn't want to be revealed. They only conceded when he shakily points to the unknown farmer's territory, most of them getting the message.

Techno is very thankful that SquidKid doesn't take his title and also doesn't reveal his existence.

-

"It would have been so easy for the squid hybrid to just pluck his tiny form from their back pocket and shove the wrathful spotlight onto him.

He wasn't even able to even escape now as he found himself stuck in the hybrid's pocket. The crowd had come quickly after SquidKid had removed the other mayor for him, and he remembered feeling panicked as he stared at the other hybrid. The next thing he knew, he was shoved into their pocket.

He couldn't get out without tumbling to the ground with a splat, and, even worse, the possibility of one of the townspeople pointing him out with gossip-drinking eyes was incredibly high too.

He shakily gulped, greedily taking the air around him as he tried to stay calm. He never liked being near anyone- not even the scarecrows - so the second-hand contact with his past rival was not the finest experience.

"I- uhm," the squid hybrid stumbled over their words, "t-the mayor really would rather not... have the entire town to greet them.."

The crowd hushedly mumbled to each other, and one straggler called out, "well, tell them to come out anyway!"

By the Blood God, he hated this. He shrunk to the bottom of the pocket. This was one of the worst worries for a borrower; he had already been pushing his limit with the scarecrows and SquidKid, but this was another level for him.

"...Uh, well, in that case," he felt SquidKid shift, and a hand brushed over his pocket. He tenses, waiting for the fingers to tug him out and waiting for SquidKid to finally prove that they're not as kind as they look, for them to finally get some semblance of petty revenge.

"You can find them over there." He pauses, confused to as why there's no hand reaching down for him. The words finally dawn on him, and he's both relieved and perplexed to what SquidKid could have meant by that.

But hatever they've done has made the crowd fall unnaturally silent, and so he's at least a little relieved for that too.

The same voice that was brave enough to speak before pipes up, "you mean the ghost farmer?"

....He didn't know that the townspeople had come up with a name for him, but he's suddenly thankful that he's gained enough popularity that people stop and gawk.

"Y...Yes," SquidKid slowly acknowledges the villager, "they were the one orchestrating all of this. I was just helping with the... talking parts," the hybrid is silent for a moment before they burst into a stammering mess,

"And- uh, I-I should take my leave now, b-because I should really h-head back and ch-check up on them," he feels the bigger farmer start to take a few steps back, supposedly away from the crowd, "I'll answer any questions later!"

He has to push against the fabric to keep himself from bouncing around in the pocket as SquidKid starts running. He faintly hears the townspeople shout for the male, but it's muffled through the fabric.

As it starts to seem as if the squid hybrid would never stop running, they finally start to slow down, their breaths coming out labored and airy.

He doesn't speak up for a moment, letting the other regain themselves first. When they finally seem well enough, he speaks up,

"That's the best you can come up with?"

--

chKFCHKDSJFSDF oh my Primes, this is so LONG,,,, I have no idea how to write SquidKid,,,, plus, I had no idea how to like,,, oOGHgds,f,, pain.

Anyways, hope you had fun reading ALL of this cchjxcvxkdsf,,,

AAUBHJDUHFJHBFNDKUFHN WENDYYY /POS

i dont have anything to add this is just fantastic,,,,, DEO AND JIYN AS SCARECROWS AS WELL,,, FBJHDKUHSJHHDV,,,,,, i love that techno gets to have Carl still 🥺🥺🥺 and him leaving squidkid on the other side of the maze??? FHJBDJNJKBF

ALSO 🥺 squid protecting techno and not telling people abt him,,,,, aaajfhkdojfh good,, i also appreciate that everyone in the village just has to be like. "the ghost farmer is mayor????... well this isnt the weirdest thing thats happened to me"

SQUIDKID RUNNING AWAY,,,, "ill answer any questions later" djhshhjhjhbhbfhdjhbe

*holds this gently* aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i adore

#hey farmer anon i hope u get to see this #this is very cool whuejhfhjfbhhsjf #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #t!technoblade #tiny!technoblade #t!techno #tiny!techno #g!squidkid #giant!squidkid #not me realising i have to tag this </3 #others writing #i absolutely adore this sm #dibiundnjnfjkdjnfhjfjj #what do u mean i got distracted by watching the video on this again instead of posting what nooo #OH ITS SO LONG #tiny farmer au #long post

[ladyoftheblackpaint]

Dad-for-One Theory Breakdown

So now that the big man is out and on the loose, I was reading about this theory, and honestly it’s pretty interesting.

All For One being Izuku’s father.

Other people could probably write better analyses of the theory itself than me, but from what I understand these are some main arguments to support this being a possibility:

Firstly, let’s talk about AFO’s appearance.

He’s shown with white hair in the anime when he was younger, as does his younger brother. His eyes are constantly shadowed even before his face got jacked up by All Might.

So genetically speaking, here are the traits that constitute Izuku and his parental figures:

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have freckles

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green hair (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have curly hair

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green eyes (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his eye shape (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his skin tone (check)

The thing with genetics, though, is that they’re weird things and parents are not always the sole givers of traits.

As we can see, from the parts of All For One’s face that is visible, he doesn’t have curly hair OR freckles, which is sort of a big kick in the gut for this theory.

Irregardless, I do have to say that theory, though, does have a point with the fact that his eyes are hidden. Most of Izuku’s traits seem to come from his mother, and the fact that two of his most telling traits (his curly hair and his freckles) just so happen to be in the same spots that are covered up by scar tissue in the design of present-day AFO is pretty interesting.

Coincidental New Abilities Given To Izuku & Izuku’s strange pain threshold.

So this is one that I have been asking questions about. OFA is a stock piling quirk, but from the looks of it, only strength is actually passed down from one individual to the next, like an energy reserve. However, if that is the case, why is it that all of a sudden the vestiges decided to change the rules of the game and bestow onto Izuku all of their abilities.

Why not All Might? He was the closest to killing AFO in the past, so if they had done so with him he might have actually done it.

It’s possible that the reason they chose Izuku was because of the impending catastrophes that were obviously coming to fruition with the League of Villains and Tomura.

I’m left to wonder if there was another reason, though:

One of the themes of My Hero Academia is how quirks harm the user over time. All Might gets wounded and then forces himself to keep using his quirk,  Bakugou hurts his arms if he uses his quirk too much, Aizawa gets dry eye, Ururaka throws up, and the most obvious of them is Izuku-- who breaks his bones with the intensity of his quirk.

This didn’t happen with All Might and apparently not with any of the past users, either, since All Might seemed surprised at the extent since it was easier for him, even though he suspected what the consequences might be. Add onto this that the ability is now supposed to be stronger than All Might’s was, and you get the picture.

The point is: Izuku gets wounded a lot and yet seems to have the pain resistance of a freaking monster I mean:

COME ON.

Taking that into consideration, AFO has been described as being concerned about how his quirk affects his body. Since he has so many quirks that could potentially harm him and overwhelm him. I mean, look at the experiments with the Nomu-- people are obviously not supposed to have more than one quirk.

So someone with the capability of wielding multiple quirks with possibly painful drawbacks would, probably, be able to pass on some of the needed traits to keep that up genetically to Izuku, amiright.

And it’s possible the vestiges could tell that Izuku could handle it because of this genetic connection.

He didn’t have a quirk, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t get other traits from AFO if he was his father, such as his endurance and pain threshold.

Which leads me to my next point:

Extra Toe Bone

I actually just thought of this when I was writing the last point, so if it makes no sense welp...

Izuku was born quirkless, something that is considered relatively rare, expecially as the generations go on. Quirks are genetic phenomenon, and so if two people who have quirks have a child, it is VERY slim that their child will be born quirkless, unless they had a grandparent or someone else down the line who was quirkless.

Now, AFO was part of the first generation of quirked people. Meaning, his parents would have likely been quirkless, something that would have made it much easier for his offspring to be quirkless, as well.

Fire-breathing Absent Father

This is one of the more easy and obvious ones.

Horikoshi has said that Izuku’s father would show up later in the story, meaning that he has had a plot planned out for Izuku’s parents. Whatever that might be.

So that obviously shuts down the idea that his father is simply an unimportant character. To be introduced so that into the story as if he’s a vital piece for the future story seems...strange. Pretty suspicious.

Anyways, there’s also the information that’s been given about Izuku’s father having the quirk of fire breathing, and, obviously, a man who has numerous quirks would have the possibility of being a fire breather.

There’s not much else to say about this point.

Parallelism

OH, this one’s my favorite.

Okay, looking at Tomura Shigaraki’s character for a moment, we see the connection he has with Nana, one of the previous holders of One for All.

This is a plot technique that is basically just a twist in the narrative. How could someone SO GOOD and someone that All Might looked up to have a grandchild so inherently evil? His family was relatively normal, even if his father was abusive (god, that’s a terrible thing to say but I digress). His father’s abuse came from the trauma he experiences when he was abandoned by Nana, but all in all his family was full of ordinary people. He had grandparents, a mother, a sister, and his abusive dad (oh god).

Even with the heroic heritage and the normal family life, Tomura becomes one of the worst villains in the series.

By parallelism, I mean, imagine the DRAMA if Izuku-- pure, wanting-to-be-a-hero, saving everyone’s ass, sunshine child Izuku-- was the most powerful villain’s child...that’d be fucking awesome. I would shit bricks. It’d be amazing!

Possibly predictable...

But amazing!

Plus, if you look at both Izuku and Tomura’s parents, if the Dad For One theory is true, they would each have one caring parent and one “bad” parent.

It would fit so well. With the narrative of the “heroes” of society not being inherently good (Nana abandoning her child-- even if she believed it was for his best interest) and villains simply being misunderstood until the point that they snap (look at literally ANY villain in the series. There’s some type of narrative about being abandoned by society).

One of the best heroes ever producing one of the greatest villains, and vice versa.

It’d be beautiful.

THAT’S some badass parallelism.

PLUS, it would fit with the narrative of ending the cycle of violence. For a story so based on the intricacies of society and what is truly “evil” and “good”, to have an ending where the two characters stray from their genetically defined path and decide their own destinies would be SO satisfying I’m getting excited just thinking about it.

ANYWAYS, I’m not so sure how much I believe this theory might come true, but I know that it’s not a silly theory at all. Looking at the narrative, the possible hints, the parallelism (GOD the PARALLELISM) it would make sense in the long run and, in my opinion, be super interesting.

#boku no hero academia spoilers #boku no hero academia #boku no hero manga #long post #midoriya izuku #midoriya inko #chapter 297 #chapter 297 spoilers #bakugou katsuki #all might #toshinori yagi #all for one #one for all #dad for one #bnha theory #deku #deku midoriya #I just like writing out my thoughts I guess #bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha manga #aizawa shouta #aizawa bnha

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts on jon connington’s chapters

The last time I read this was over four years and  I had a different take on Aegon, so I was curious to see on what changed with a second read.

----

The Lost Lord  ~ ADWD

Sansa and Aegon

Alayne II (Sansa II) ~ AFFC

When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright."

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"We have gone to great lengths to keep Prince Aegon hidden all these years," Lemore reminded him. "The time will come for him to wash his hair and declare himself, I know, but that time is not now. Not to a camp of sellswords." (...)

"The plan was to reveal Prince Aegon only when we reached Queen Daenerys," Lemore was saying." (...)

The prince wore sword and dagger, black boots polished to a high sheen, a black cloak lined with blood-red silk. With his hair washed and cut and freshly dyed a deep, dark blue, his eyes looked blue as well. At his throat he wore three huge square-cut rubies on a chain of black iron, a gift from Magister Illyrio. Red and black. Dragon colors. That was good. "You look a proper prince," he told the boy. (...)

Sansa and Aegon are supposed to reveal themselves by washing the dye out of their hair and wearing their house colours, in an event that involves a wedding with someone that will facilitate claiming their birthright.

However, Aegon said “fuck that bitch Danerys” and getting married, revealed himself somewhat (to the Golden Company higher-ups only) wearing his house colours and went back to Westeros to reclaim his birthright on his own, unware that his cousin from his mother’s side is coming to him to offer aid in the war.. Aegon washing his hair of the blue dye and doning his armour will only happen wieh he sets foot in Westeros.

Likewise, we can draw a parallel scenario for Sansa and considering the “Sansa is grey girl who flees from a marriage” it all fits, Like Aegon, Sansa syas “fuck that bitch blonde Bobby B Harry and getting married, like Aegon she wears a grey cloak, and like Aegon she’ll be meeting her cousin and eventually claim her birthright.

I somehow doubt Sansa will be getting an army that soon, but in the show she got the Wildlings (via Jon, who can be seen as “sellsword” type of warriors) and the Vale army. In the books, there’s the mountain clans both in the Vale (loyal to Tyrion, whom she’s married to) and the north mountain clans (those that protected Bran because he is Ned’s son and joined Stannis also because of Ned and his daughter).

Another thing of note is Aegon ended up cutting his hair but dyed blue once more, so this may be true for Sansa as well. She may cut it shorter (a parallel to her sister Arya as well) but keep dying it for awhile still. Such, she may reach the Wall and meet Jon as a brunette (a parallel to Jeyne Poole as well as  Alys Karstark).  ETA: Likewise Aegon only revealing himself by washing his hair and doning his armour when he invades Westeros (his birthright), Sansa may only wash her hair and done her armour when the northern campaign starts.

Regardless, This is a smart choice because...

Cersei IV ~ ADWD

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss."

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"His because they're bought and paid for. Ten thousand armed strangers, plus hangers-on and camp followers. All it takes is one to bring us all to ruin. If Hugor's head was worth a lord's honors, how much will Cersei Lannister pay for the rightful heir to the Iron Throne? You do not know these men, my lord. It has been a dozen years since you last rode with the Golden Company, and your old friend is dead."

Cersei’s attention on Aegon is also a parallel to Cersei’s attention to Sansa, interestingly enough Tyrion is mentioned in both instances. Cersei’s attention on Sansa also come attached with the “singing the Stranger for a kiss”, which is interesting because if “Sansa is the Grey Girl” theory holds to, the guy she’s running to for protection is in fact.... dead or close to (the Stranger is their god and in the show... the episode was aplty named, the Book of the Stranger).

The bells tolled for all of us that day. For Aerys and his queen, for Elia of Dorne and her little daughter, for every true man and honest woman in the Seven Kingdoms. And for my silver prince. (...)

He had grown fond of Lemore, but that did not mean he required her approval. Her task had been to instruct the prince in the doctrines of the Faith, and she had done that. No amount of prayer would put him on the Iron Throne, however. That was Griff's task. He had failed Prince Rhaegar once. He would not fail his son. 

Let me live long enough to see the boy sit the Iron Throne, and Varys will pay for that slight and so much more. Then we'll see who's soon forgotten.

I grant that the obsession that Jon Connington has for Rhaegar Targaryen is milder and more honourable, compared to the obsession Littlefinger has for Catelyn Tully, but the fact is this is yet another parallel between Sansa and Aegon. They both have mentors with an unhealthy obsession with one of their parents and hate the other, which they project onto the kids. Last, but not least, both mentors are passing off as parents of the children while they remain disguised under a false indentiy.

However, as Sansa will have to run from Littlefinger’s toxic shadow, I suspect Aegon will do much the same. I have suspicions. Sansa escaped Littlefinger because of Jon, as he took the role of protection. No matter how people see the ship, the fact is Jon is a lot like Ned V2 (at least, that’s how Littlefinger will see it and he hated the man) but the truth is Jon is Ned’s nephew and Sansa’s cousin from his mother’s side.

Likewise, Aegon is about to meet Arianne Martell, who’s the niece of his mother Elia Martell, which makes them cousins from his mother’s side. Elia Martell, whom Jon Connington... hates, often speculated in fact that he was in love with Rhaegar Targaryen himself. The symmetry of all this, not only the mentor’s obsession with the children but also the love / hate hey have for their parents.

Connington’s wish to see Aegon crowned and the giant chip he has on his shoulder for not being recognised. For the former, I have not found any reference to Littlefinger wanting to sit the Iron Throne in the books, but this was basically his goal in the show. To be king with Sansa by his side. For the latter, well that’s the drive of his character, he’s a social climber seeking recognition.

Sansa VII ~ ASOS

I will tell my aunt that I don't want to marry Robert. Not even the High Septon himself could declare a woman married if she refused to say the vows. She wasn't a beggar, no matter what her aunt said. She was thirteen, a woman flowered and wed, the heir to Winterfell.

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"Why should I go running to my aunt  [implied marriage] as if I were a beggar? My claim is better than her own. Let her come to me … in Westeros." 

Eh. Same energy. They are not beggars and they know their birthright, they will not be forced to marry someone they don’t want to to facilitate it.

----

TL;DR: I think these concurrence between Sansa and Aegon suggest that Aegon is real, but also glimpse into their characters beyond their toxic mentors and their ascencion to power. It will be interesting to watch their common points in future events, even if by the fact that they’re different genders and that makes PLENTY of difference in ASOIAF.

Jon and Aegon

Jon II ~ ASOS

A few tents were still standing on the far side of the camp, and it was there they found Mance Rayder. Beneath his slashed cloak of black wool and red silk he wore black ringmail and shaggy fur breeches, and on his head was a great bronze-and-iron helm with raven wings at either temple. Jarl was with him, and Harma the Dogshead; Styr as well, and Varamyr Sixskins with his wolves and his shadowcat.

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

The prince wore sword and dagger, black boots polished to a high sheen, a black cloak lined with blood-red silk. With his hair washed and cut and freshly dyed a deep, dark blue, his eyes looked blue as well. At his throat he wore three huge square-cut rubies on a chain of black iron, a gift from Magister Illyrio. Red and black. Dragon colors. That was good. "You look a proper prince," he told the boy. (...)

I personally ignored Aegon because I started with the show and didn’t know he was a (living) character until I read the books. I wasn’t even all that convinced he’d be particularly important. So I always looked at Jon’s interactions with Mance (associated with black + red) as "preparation” for Jon’s internactions with Daniella.

Hoewver, that changed when show!Cersei took over some of book!Aegon role: sitting on the Iron Throne, the Golden Company, and loved over Daniella in the last to final episode. It seems to me now that Mance can also (at the very least if not all) be seen as “preparation” for Jon’s interactions Aegon. As said, Mance  dresss in a black and red cloak which associates him with Targs, the cloak being “copied” by Aegon. Mance united the notorious “give no fucks about authority) wildlings under one idea (run from the Others), while Aegon united a sellsword compay (sellswords are untrustworthty).

Moreover, it’s my conviction that Jon and Aegon are probably going to war against each other for a time (this is illustrated by what I believe are their respective dragons and a natural consequence if Aegon sits in King’s Landing while the Starks declare Northern Indepdencen), until they sommehow make peace (in case of Mance and Jon it was because of the Others, but for Jon and Aegon it could be their fire counterart, Danerys).

TL;DR: I think these vague connections between Mance and Aegon are rather interesting and may be “preparation” for Jon and Aegon’s intereactons will involve war AND peace. Interestingly, Connington’s next chapter feaures battle.

#aegon vi targaryen

[tomurasprincess]

Wraith’s Touch (Yandere Ghost Shigaraki x Reader)

Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader Triggers: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, voyeurism, choking, death, yandere. This is seriously dark, so beware. Word Count: 8.5k Note: I blame Cadence for making me thirsty for this idea.

~~~~

There was something creepy about the house, you thought, for what felt like the 50th time today.  It was a large, sprawling Victorian style estate, an old house even by your grandmother’s standards.  She had lived there alone for years and had refused to move, and she never would tell you why.  

You had stayed there before on summer break, when you were a teenager.  Although you always adored your grandmother, something about the house itself was unsettling.  You felt like you were being constantly watched, felt like things would move around in places where you did not think you had moved them.  You thought you saw shadows out of the corners of your eyes, heard strange voices in the middle of the night.

Your grandmother insisted nothing was wrong, that you were simply being paranoid and that she had never experienced anything like what you were describing.  You tried very hard to believe her, but it was hard to do that when you saw the worried look in her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she tried to say everything was okay.  Ultimately, she made an excuse of you needing to leave quickly, that something had come up.  So you had found somewhere else and hadn’t really seen her much after that.

She had died unexpectedly around a month ago, and with no other family to inherit her house and belongings, you were the one chosen to handle everything.  You hadn’t been quite as close to your grandmother since that summer at her house, a fact that you bitterly resented now.  But anytime you had tried to make plans to come visit, she would always tell you she was too busy and that you’d find another time to get together.

And now you were being willed her house, the one that had so many good memories of your grandmother, but also many unsettling ones.  You wish you could be going back to the house in better circumstances.

You lived 2 hours away from where the house was, and it made no sense to continue to stay there and make the drive every day as you sorted through everything in the house.  You had broken your lease, explaining about the death, and although your landlord wasn’t happy, he at least wasn’t angry.  

Now you are standing outside with a moving van, reminiscing about your past in this house. You sigh and shake your head, before going around to open the back of the van.  Your belongings all fit into one small van, since you didn’t have a ton of room in your old apartment. You had left a few things, mostly old furniture, back at the apartment for other people to take if they wanted.  This house was huge, and had enough furniture that you wouldn’t need all of your old stuff.

You grab a few boxes from the back of the van and walk to the front door before setting them aside to pull out the keys from your pocket.  You take a deep breath before putting the key in the lock and turning it, stepping into the house for the first time in several years.  

The feeling of being watched has not gone away since you were last here, the entire entryway feeling just a bit too claustrophobic. The air temperature of the house is cold, your breath puffing out in white clouds. Great, you think to yourself, I bet the air conditioning and heating unit is broken.  Will have to remember to call a repairman tomorrow.

You let out a sigh and pick the boxes back up, carrying them into the house. You tried to be efficient with the packing, marking all of the boxes according to what room they went on.  These boxes all went to whatever room you would choose as your bedroom.

Your grandmother’s room was technically the master bedroom of the house, but you don’t feel comfortable sleeping in there.  So you go down the hall from where her old bedroom was located, and open up the door to where you used to stay.  

The room was very similar looking to when you were there before, all the knick knacks and personal items still displayed around the room. The bed was neatly made, and the dresser still had a few small items of clothing that you had forgotten from when you left.

The one difference about the room was how oppressive the air is.  It seems to beat down on you, making the room feel like it’s closing in.   You had experienced some weird feelings in the house before, but never anything like this. You’re being ridiculous, you scold yourself. This is just a house, and you’re simply missing your grandma.

You shake your head at your thoughts and place the boxes down in the room, before turning around and walking to the door.  

As you reach for the doorknob, you hear a strange noise. You whirl your head around, looking through the room again but you see nothing.  Old houses make strange noises, you reason with yourself.

And yet you could have sworn it sounded like soft laughter.

~~~~

You collapse in an exhausted heap on the couch. You have finished moving and unpacking the boxes containing your own stuff, and you have started to go through your grandmother’s.

You haven’t even fully re-explored the house yet, and you still have so much to go through. It is much too large for you to consider living in permanently, and you intend to simply sell the house and buy a more modest one with the money from the sale and your inheritance.

But your grandmother had lived here for years, and the house had the accumulation of all that time of collecting items and knick knacks. It was going to take so long for you to go through everything, sorting what to keep and what to sell.

You want to get through this as quickly as possible. The house remains unsettling, and it only seemed to get worse. The atmosphere was still so heavy, almost like a physical presence beating down on you.  

The air conditioning and heating repairmen had shown up, only to find nothing wrong. But the house still had strange cold spots throughout, with no explanation for it.

You see shadows out of the corner of your eye, shadows that look people shaped. But when you turn your head around, you see nothing.

Sometimes you think you hear voices, laughter, coming from the dark places deep within the house. It is terrifying, despite how much you try to convince yourself that it’s just the noises of an old house settling.

The final straw was when you were standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach a box from a high shelf. You almost had it when you heard it. A soft whisper in your ear, one that almost sounded like the word “mine.”  And then a cold caress, wrapping around your waist.

You startled so hard that you pulled the box entirely off the shelf, leaving it to fall to the floor and smash the contents into pieces. It scared you down to the bones, despite your efforts to rationalize it, to make logical sense of it.

You are so scared, in fact, that you have invited your pro-hero friend to stay the night. He laughed at your fears, promising there was nothing wrong, and that he would be glad to stay with you.

You always had a bit of a crush on him, but it had never amounted to anything.  He was busy with his pro-hero job, and you lived a bit too far away for the two of you to see much of each other.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. Finally, you think, he’s running late. You hurry to the door and open it to the face of your friend. He smiles and holds out fast food.

“I figured you were hungry,” he says, before walking into the house.

“I owe you,” you reply, “this house is creepier than I remember.”

“There's nothing wrong, you’re just a scaredy cat with a weak quirk. That’s why I’m here.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance about his quirk, as you lead him to the room you’ve been using as the living area.

A few hours later, and you find yourself feeling just a bit better about everything.  Nothing has happened since your friend arrived, and even the atmosphere has gotten less heavy.  You’re both curled up on the couch, stuffed full of food and talking about mindless topics. You’re starting to feel just a bit silly about the whole thing, and you tell him so.

“I told you so,” he chuckles, “anyone would go a bit stir crazy in this house.  Plus, you’re still grieving.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”  You’re surprised when he scoots closer to you and puts an arm around you, and even more surprised when he grabs your chin to pull you in for a kiss.  

You stiffen up for a single second, before melting into the kiss, scooting even closer to him as he wraps his arm around you.

He pulls you into his lap so that he can settle you in between his legs, deepening the kiss as you wrap your arms around him to tangle your hands into his hair.

He grabs your hips, pushing you down onto the hardness you can feel in his pants. The friction of it has you gasping and grinding down harder, trying to get friction on your clit.

He reaches down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you before kissing a line down the column of your neck and occasionally sucking at the skin.  

You are just starting to get into when it abruptly stops. You glance down at him only to see his eyes blown wide open, staring at something behind you. You turn around to look and see an antique mirror.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he lets out a scream and shoves you off his lap. You land on the floor in a dazed heap. “Oh god, the mirror, look at the mirror!,” his voice comes out in a purely panicked tone.

You glance back and still see only a mirror. “It’s just a mirror, I don’t see anything.”

“...you don’t see him?”

“See who? You’re not making any sense!”

“There’s a man,”  he whispers in a low tone, like he thought the man would hear him, “and he looks so pissed.”

“You just saw a shadow of something,” you try to soothe him, “there’s nothing there.”

“HE’S THERE.” You jump as his voice suddenly gets louder. “Oh fuck, he’s…!”  His voice rises into a scream before cutting off. He turns around and starts to run.

You jump up from the floor to follow him and try to calm him back down, but you discover he’s gone already as you see the front door wide open. “So much for the big, tough hero,” you mutter to yourself.

You walk back to the living room to take one last look at the mirror. You still see nothing, and yet a shiver runs down your back as you feel like someone is staring at you. And that someone is darkly amused.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, rolling over onto your other side with full intention of falling back to sleep. But you realize something feels weird. Everything feels hazy, like this is no longer your world.  You open your eyes and look around, only to be shocked by what you see.

Your bedroom is entirely different.  It simultaneously looks newer than the room you went to sleep in, but also significantly more old fashioned.  Like you were shot back into the past of the house.

The room feels heavy and oppressive, and you feel the telltale weight of someone watching you that you’ve felt ever since you came back to the house.  This time though, the energy feels eager, gleefully malicious.  Like it’s won something.

You startle a bit when you notice another significant difference to the room.  There is no door.  No windows.  The places where they’re supposed to be are nothing but blank walls.  No way out of this room.

It’s with that discovery that the realization finally hits you.  A dream, you think, I’m simply dreaming.  A vivid dream, you reason with yourself, but still ultimately a dream.  You relax a bit with this knowledge, until a shimmer appears beside you.  

You spin your head around in time to see a man materialize out of nowhere, right beside the bed.  He is on the tall side, with light blue hair that almost appears silver and eyes that are a striking red.  He’s wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, with red shoes.  He has his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, although for some reason his pinkies are sticking out of the side of the pocket. He looks strangely indistinct, blurry around the edges, almost as if he’s see-through and not truly part of this world.

You glance up into his red eyes and are frightened by what you see in their depths.  There’s a darkness there, a terrible obsession you can barely even comprehend. Just a dream, you remind yourself, whoever this is can’t do anything.

“Just a dream, huh?”  His face breaks out into a smirk.  Your heart drops into your stomach as you realize he read your mind.  Of course he can read your mind, you reprimand yourself, this is your own dream in your own head.

“Does this feel like a dream?”  He reaches towards you, ice cold fingers trailing up your arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake.  It feels incredibly real, and you shiver a bit at the contact.  You wonder why you’re dreaming about someone you have never met.  And why it feels like you know this man anyway, on a deep level beyond anything you have ever felt.

“Because you do know me.”  His fingers slide even further up your arm, reaching your face.  He grabs your chin and leans in.  

You try to pull away from his hand, to shake your head no, but he simply tightens his grip. “You’re wrong, I don’t know you,” you hiss out, “so I don’t even know why I’m dreaming about you.”

“My name is Tomura Shigaraki.” The name strikes a cord within you, as if you knew it already, as if you’ve waited your whole life simply to hear it again. “And I have waited for you for a long time.”

He leans in to capture your lips with his own, surprising you with how cold his mouth is as he forces his tongue into your mouth before you can protest.  It’s a sloppy, possessive kiss, more about claiming than any sense of romance.  He pulls away from the kiss. 

“You’re here because you belong to me,” he whispers, only to begin kissing down your jawline, planting open mouth kisses down your neck.  “And you have been from the second I saw you.”

He licks and bites at your collarbones, before finally getting to the point where your nightshirt covers your skin.  He grabs the front with his hand, and you watch in horror as it begins to turn to ash, flecks of it flying away.  You notice he used all five of his fingers, and suddenly realize why he had been keeping his pinkies up.

He goes further down, kissing and licking down your chest, before getting to your breasts.  He kneads one in his hand, pinching the nipple between his fingers, before taking the other nipple into his mouth and sucking.  He switches off, taking the other nipple into his mouth also, sucking and twisting them until they’re both hard.  

He reaches for your pajama pants, grabbing and decaying them like he did your top.  You wear no bra or panties for bed, so you’re left bare and exposed to him.  He chuckles darkly as his fingers run lower, swiping down your folds.  “You’re so wet for me, pet,” he purrs into your ear, “it seems you missed me just as much as I missed you.”  You feel like you should be embarrassed, but it seems silly to be embarrassed in your own dream.

He laughs before leaning back just enough to pull his hoodie over his head, tossing it aside.  His pants and shoes follow quickly, and you can’t help but glance down.  He is impressively thick, and already painfully hard, a bead of pre-cum already at the tip.

If this is a dream, you reason with yourself, then there’s really nothing wrong enjoying this, now is there?  A smirk graces Shigaraki’s face.  “You’re right, pet,” he coos, “it’s just a dream, so enjoy the pleasure.”

He grabs your thighs tightly, this time with his middle fingers raised, squeezing down so hard that you know there would be bruises if this wasn’t a dream.  He spreads them apart roughly, before glancing down to look at your now exposed pussy.  Now you do feel embarrassment, squirming a bit to try and close your legs, but he only digs his fingers even harder into the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t try to hide from me,” he growls in warning, before diving into your pussy with his tongue.  He licks all the way up your folds, taking a hand and spreading them apart.  He pushes his tongue up into your passage, tongue fucking you as his nose nudges against your clit and causing you to squirm.  

“Please,” you whine, as you push into him harder, seeking more stimulation, which he’s quick to give to you.  

He wastes no time collecting your slick with two of his fingers, pushing them into you roughly.  The cold of his fingers inside of you causes you to gasp. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking as his tongue presses down hard on it.  You let out a mewl, feeling your end approaching fast.  It’s like everything feels so much sharper in this dream, as if you feel even more than usual.  

He curves his fingers up, brushing against that spongy spot inside of you, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. You gasp as you clench down hard around his fingers, and Shigaraki doesn’t stop his relentless movements.  He continues to suck your clit through your orgasm, tasting your release on his tongue as his fingers drill into your now soaking pussy.  He coaxes you into a second directly after your first, causing you to squeal and go limp as your head falls back onto your pillow.

“Such a good girl for me.” He sits up with a dark smile on his face.  “But since we’re so familiar with each other now, why don’t you call me Tomura?”  You lift your head up and glance at him, but he’s simply giving you a neutral look while waiting for your response.  You see no harm in it, so you shrug.  “I guess I can do that.”

His eyes flash as he hears you agree, and a smile crosses his face.  “Good, because I want that name to be the one you scream once I’m inside of you.”  You shiver at his words, excitement rising up in you.  Sad that it’s been so long since you’ve gotten laid that you’re excited for dream sex, you muse to yourself.  You hear a snicker from beside you and choose to ignore it.

You feel the bed sink down a little, as Tomura climbs into bed with you.  He puts one hand on each side of your head, straddling you on the bed.  You are surprised to see that he looks more solid, less as if you can see all the way through him.  

He leans down to claim your mouth again, this kiss no less passionate than the last one.  He kisses you as if he means to dominate your mouth with his own, hand coming up to tighten slightly on your throat.

He nudges your legs a bit further apart with his thigh before settling himself fully in between them.  He reaches between your bodies to pump his painfully hard cock in his fist, rubbing it up your soaking folds to nudge against your tender clit.  “Tell me you want it, pet,” he whispers in your ear.  

You let out a loud whine, trying to grind yourself down on his cock.  He responds by grabbing your waist tightly, holding you firmly in place.  “I can stay here forever until you beg,” a dark look crosses his face, “what about you?”

You whimper and push against his hold, still trying to impale yourself on him to get some relief for your aching pussy.  “You’re so needy.”  He leans down to nip at your neck, causing you to lift up your chin to give him better access. “I can help you with that.”  He begins to suck on your skin, hard enough that it would leave hickies in any other circumstance.

He reaches down to your soaked folds, collecting your juices and using them to rub tight circles across your clit.  You let out a moan of pleasure at finally getting his fingers where you want them.  You let out a long, plaintive whine when he stops suddenly. “Please,” you finally open your mouth to say.

“Please, what,” he smirks, “I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”

“Please touch me again,” you try to rub yourself against his fingers to get more stimulation. He completely pulls away, only to start trailing his fingers down your thigh.  “Is this where you want to be touched?”

“No,” you plead, “please touch my pussy.  I need you to fuck me.”

His hand continues to trail down your thighs, further away from your heated core.  “Hmm, do you think that’s good enough, pet?”  

You wrack your brain for what answer he is looking for, before finally settling on “please Tomura, I want you.”  For a second, his gaze turns satisfied, calculating, and his shape seems to get even more solid than it was earlier.  

You start to wonder why, before he begins to push his length into you, as cold as the rest of him. Then all thoughts are lost by the startling feeling of the cold against your warm walls, the contrast feeling amazing inside of you.  You let out a loud mewl at his thickness stretching your pussy out, as he sinks inch by inch inside you.  

He lets out a groan of pleasure as he fully sheathes himself inside you, giving a slight pause to kiss down your neck and allow you to adjust to his size.  He begins at a slow pace, until he feels you wrap your legs around his back, trying to get him to move faster inside of you.  “I need more, Tomura, please,” you beg. 

“Who am I to deny you when you beg so cutely,” he chuckles as his pace increases, hips slamming against yours.  He leans down to nibble and bite at your nipples as he tweaks the other one between his fingers, alternating between them.  

He reaches one hand between your body to start rubbing your clit, causing you to clench hard around his length.  “Fuck, you’re tight,” he curses under his breath as he continues to move inside you.

He lifts your hips up a bit to change angle as he continues to slam into you, seeking that spot that he knows will make you come undone around his cock.  The sound of skin slapping against skin and your gasps and moans fill the room.  

He reaches down to grip your neck without even slowing his pace inside you, still in that same hold he’s been using, with his middle finger raised from your neck. “Admit that you’re mine,” he growls darkly. Your eyes widen at the possessiveness in his tone, a sliver of unease running down your back.  You shake your head no, only for him to slam into you all the way to the cervix, pleasure and pain warring inside you.

You begin to feel the room get colder, dropping degree after degree and causing you to shiver from the cold. His grin turns menacing as he puts more pressure on your neck, making it hard to breathe but not enough to cut your air off completely.  “Say it,” he hisses, “tell me you’re mine.” One hand of yours flies up to his, intending to try and pry him off.  The room starts to spin from lack of oxygen, and you beat your fist against his chest.  

He loosens his grip just enough for you to take a huge gasping breath of air.  When you say nothing, he moves to put his hands back around your neck.  “Wait” you shout.  He pauses, his expression turning predatory as he waits for your next words.  

Even if this is simply a dream, you can feel the sense of danger from admitting this.  You don’t know where this certainty comes from, but you can feel it down to your bones.  But you also feel the danger of not admitting it.  The two desires war within you, fighting to be the victor.

“I’m yours, Tomura,” you breathed out.  His red eyes flash with delight, with a sense of dark triumph that makes you instantly regret your decision to say the words.  

“Finally,” he snarled as his hips begin to snap into you again. He is even harder and rougher than before, his hands gripping you tightly as he fucks you with wild abandon.  Two fingers reach down to press hard on your clit and you feel another orgasm approaching quickly.

“I want you to say my name as you cum around my cock,” he growls as he changes his angle slightly, the new position causing you to let out a wail as you tighten hard on his cock and dig your heels into his back.  

“Fuck, Tomura” you cry out, as liquid fire courses through you.  His hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock, and he reaches his own end, cold seed flooding into your womb.  

You both lay there for a second, trying to catch your breath, when you hear the distant sound of an alarm blaring.  He lets out a dangerous growl, clutching you to his chest as if he could prevent the alarm from taking you away from him.  “You won’t be getting away from me much longer,” is the last thing you hear before you wake up.

~~~~

You sit bolt upright in bed gasping, still throbbing from the remnants of an orgasm. Your eyes dart around the room, looking for Tomura, only to find nothing.  The room is empty, looking the same as it did before you went to sleep.  The doors and windows are back, and the suffocating presence you felt before has lessened.  

God, that was one intense dream.  You had never had such a lucid dream before, one that felt so completely real that it was hard to come to terms with it now that you are awake.  You roll over to turn your blaring alarm off and wince in pain. You feel strangely sore, as if you slept wrong in the night.  Feeling sweaty and gross, you let out a deep sigh and get up to take a shower.  

After your shower, you go back into your bedroom to get dressed.  You glance at the floor length mirror as you walk past, before doing a double take and turning back around to look again.  You startle a bit when you see that your neck is covered in bruises and hickies.  You think back to your friend during your makeout session the other night, and mentally curse him for getting too rough.  

But as you glance down, you also see handprints on the side of both of your hips.  You stare at them for a long time, trying to place what happened.  The asshole grabbed me pretty hard when he threw me off him the other night, you reason.  He obviously must have been too rough, and you resolve to admonish him later on the whole incident.  You give a silent nod to yourself, confident in your reasoning.

If only you could forget that the handprint bruises have a single finger not visible on your skin.

~~~~

That day passes uneventfully, although you can’t stop thinking of the dream you had.  Or the bruises on your neck.  Or the handprints with only 4 fingers.  You know you’re being ridiculous, that you have a logical explanation for the whole thing.  But that doesn’t stop the anxiety, the worry, from building up in you.

You are also unable to reach your friend in order to give him the chewing out that he is desperately owed.  You can’t figure out if he’s ignoring you, or just busy, but you’re getting absolutely no response.  

You resolve to work on the house more, to distract yourself. You are still going from room to room, organizing things, separating things into keep piles, donation piles, and trash piles. You have finally worked your way into your grandma’s office and library, a place you were never able to go into before.

You stare in wonder the first time you go through those doors, unable to figure out where to look first.  The room is huge, and filled with floor to ceiling books. An ornate, antique looking desk sits in the back of the room, and the windows to the left side of the desk let in the sunlight so that the room doesn’t feel overly dark.

I really wish she had let me come in here before, you think, because this room is absolutely amazing.  And then reality hits you, as you let out a groan. It’s also going to take me forever to look through all this.

You venture around the library and see a varied mix of books.  There is everything from classic literature and non-fiction textbooks to romance and murder mysteries.  But then you come to a strange section, closest to her desk. It’s full of books about witchcraft and spells, ghosts and demons, books with titles you can’t even begin to understand and that only hurt your head to try.  It’s confusing to you why your grandma would even have some of these books, but you suppose she has a little of everything in this library.  

You head to the desk, sitting down in the chair before opening up the drawers. Sitting in the top of the first drawer you open are two things. One is a plain spiral bound notebook. The other is a book about ghosts.  Specifically, about how to banish them.  The book has clearly been well used, the spine well broken in and several bookmarks still inside.

You pause for a second before opening the notebook to the first page. In it, you find a detailed recounting of the malevolent spirit living within the house. Your own grandma’s account. You can barely comprehend everything, so many details and actions taken.

And then you come across the entry around the time of your visit years ago. You read about your grandma’s fear of you being there. The increasing obsession the ghost, Tomura Shigaraki, had of you. And her final decision to send you back, away from the ghost.

This information answers some questions and raises so many more. Your grandma was a witch. Ghosts and spirits exist. And one is obsessed with you. So obsessed, in fact, that your grandma feared for you to the point that she barely had anything to do with you after that.  You wonder if she felt that staying away from you was for your own protection.

You pick the book up about banishment, hoping to find more answers, and open it to one of the bookmarks.  Inside is a detailed banishment and saging ritual, used to weaken ghosts.  Turning a few pages back, you look to see if it mentions what signs you should be watching for, any hints that you have a ghost obsessed with you. You don’t doubt what you read from your grandma, but a part of you is still in denial, hoping that this is all an elaborate story.

You finally find the correct page and do some reading.  Unexplained sounds and feelings, check. Seeing things that aren’t there, check.  Your heart stops for a second at the next section.  Strange and intense dreams, including ones of a sexual nature.  Definite check.  Unexplained marks and bruises on your body.

You stop reading at that point, thinking back to the dream.  The bruises. Those handprints.  The raised fingers.  You feel a chill run down your spine, the room getting noticeably colder.  No matter how much you try to rationalize it, something feels off about the whole thing.  You turn the page back to the description of the saging, and it looks easy enough for you to handle.  And really, what can it hurt?

~~~~

You glance around at the circle of objects you had laid out around you.  You feel like you should be feeling very silly right now.  But you just don’t.  There is this sense of impending doom you have in your bones, and yet not enough to blatantly run from the house.  You have obligations here, a responsibility to your grandma.  Even if this is you being silly, it will hopefully give you peace of mind.

You had found plenty of sage and salt in one of your grandmother’s cupboards. You had opened up the majority of the windows that could actually be opened so that energy could leave, and also to air the house out from the sage. You had laid out and started lighting some white candles throughout the house.  And you had a bowl to catch the ash from the burning sage stick, and another bowl filled with salt.

You read in the book that you needed to light the sage and walk from room to room with it, spreading the smoke around and paying special attention to outer walls of the house where negative energy could come in.  The book also said that spreading a line of salt around entryways and windows also helped to keep things out.  

You decide to start in your bedroom, since that’s where the most extreme of the incidents happened.  You have candles lit and salt laid in there already, so all you need is to light the sage and say the words.

As you go to grab the lighter, the lights of the house start to flicker, and the atmosphere in the air grows heavy and intense.  You feel like someone is staring right into you, all the way down to your soul, and that they are not pleased.  The entire house seems to take on a life of its own, as if furious with what you’re about to do.

Before you have a chance to panic, you light the sage.  You move all the way around the room, holding the sage up to the corners of the room, and you feel the pressure lessen just a bit. "I cast the circle thrice about to keep the evil spirits out,” you begin to say, in as powerful of a voice as you can muster.  

You leave the bedroom, going room to room in the upstairs part of the house, making sure no part is untouched.  “Earth, Wind, Fire and Sea.”  The furious stare is lessening and the house itself seems to be settling.

Finally, you make your way downstairs to the front entrance, the last place of the house that you haven’t gone through.  You spread the smoke of the sage around this area as well, before finally saying the words to close things out.  “As I will so, mote it be!"  You put the sage out.

It feels like everything stops all at once. You hear an anguished scream coming from the living room, and you quickly rush that way. In the mirror your friend saw him in before, you now see him too.

He’s wearing the same outfit he was in your dream, but there is no sense of the smug, triumphant man you felt. Instead, he looks furious. Clawing at the inside of the mirror like he is in pain. And then he suddenly starts to fade, getting more and more see through until he finally vanishes entirely.  

And then suddenly, the house feels like a house again. No presence, no pressure, no eyes feeling like they’re watching you.  You breathe a sigh of relief as you realize that it worked.  The house has never felt so light, so clear the entire time you’ve been here.

It seems to have taken a lot out of you however, leaving you feeling exhausted and hungry. You quickly make something to eat before heading to bed.

Good, you think to yourself as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. Whatever this was is over now and I can finally finish things here in peace.  He’s gone.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, feeling strangely weak and groggy.  Something feels wrong, and you try to pinpoint what it is. You recall doing the saging ritual, feeling like it worked, before fixing yourself some quick dinner and heading to bed.  Everything seemed fine when you went to sleep.

You try to get up, to look around, but you find that you can’t move at all.  Panic hits as you try desperately to move something, anything.  But you are completely paralyzed.  Your head throbs and the room seems to spin the harder you try to move.

You attempt to slow your breathing, to concentrate and think through your situation, and then you notice it.  You went to sleep curled up on your side, as usual, but you’re not laying like that anymore.  You’re on all fours on the bed, head pressed down against the mattress, back arching upwards.  

You feel movement from behind you, and you find that you are able to lift your head just enough to glance back.  Instinctively, you know what you’re going to see.  Who you’re going to see.

Dawning horror rises in you as your fears are confirmed, that the movement behind you is coming from the man of your dream, Tomura Shigaraki, and that he is buried to the hilt inside you.  You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat as you feel yourself clenching around the hard cock that is stretching you out.

“Ah, finally awake?  Took you long enough, he chuckles maliciously.  “The man of your dream, huh?” He pulls all the way out of you, only to slam roughly back in, wrenching a scream from you.  “Sounds so romantic.”  

He leans in to whisper a question into your ear.  “Want to know a secret?”  You want so badly to tell him no, to wake up from this nightmare, but you know there is no option.

“It was never a dream, my little plaything.”  His tone is so full of sinister glee that you find yourself shivering.

You feel overwhelmed that this has already happened once before, that you were too stupid to realize it was never simply a dream.  

He grabs your hips roughly and begins to set a slow pace inside you.  “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” he hisses out, “like you didn’t beg me to fuck you.”

Shame burns your face, and you bury your face into the pillow to try and hide your sobs.  But Shigaraki simply coils his fingers inside your hair and jerks backwards.  The action forces your back to arch, his cock burying even deeper inside you.

Despite yourself, you feel heat pooling in your core from his rough handling and the feeling of his thick cock sliding against your inner walls.  

You let out a broken moan as he speeds up, his hips snapping into your backside, balls smacking against your clit and filling the room with the wet noises of skin slapping against skin.  A coil inside you is building, and you want more than anything to squirm away.  But there is no give in whatever power he has you under, and you’re forced to simply take the pleasure.  

He runs a cold hand up and down your back, digging nails into the skin as the other hand trails around to where your bodies are joined.  He begins to furiously rub your clit, tight and fast circles that leave you gasping and gripping at the bed sheets under your hands.  

You feel your juices dripping from you, drenching his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your quivering cunt.  Being unable to move is only heightening all of your other senses, and you can feel every vein on the cock inside you.

You feel yourself rapidly tightening up, your orgasm quickly approaching. You let out a loud whine as you find yourself pushing back against him, seeking more friction in spite of yourself.  

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?” He barks out a laugh. “Do it then, cum all over my cock.”

At his words, you instantly cum hard, as if your body is obeying his command. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and flipping you over.

He pulls you into his lap before entering you again as your pussy is still fluttering around his cock. This new position lets him thrust up into you, the new angle causing him to slam into a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His pace doesn’t even slow as he begins to kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking hard as he leaves bruises down the column of your neck. His fingers begin to stroke your aching clit yet again, and you let out a shameless moan.

“Please stop,” you whimper, “too sensitive.”  You feel wrung out, the room seeming to spin just a bit, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

He ignores you, gripping your hips to hold you in place as he pounds into you. You glance down at the cock disappearing inside you, and you flush with embarrassment as you see that his length is glistening with your juices.

His pace becomes erratic, thrusts starting to stutter, and you know that he’s getting close too. “Mine, mine, mine,” he chants as he finally finishes inside you with a loud groan. The feeling of cold spreading through your core is enough to push you over yet again, and you collapse against his shoulder in sheer exhaustion.

Tears run down your face as you ask him the question you’ve been wondering. “I thought I banished you.”

His chest rumbles with his laughter. “No, little plaything. Your grandmother was a powerful witch and knew what she was doing.”  You stiffen up at his words.

He leans down to lick at the shell of your ear. “You, however, are weak and know nothing.”

“But then, why did you…” you trail off as it finally hits you. You let out a choked sob. “You were faking it.”

He simply smirked at you. You suddenly can’t breathe. The room is spinning even more, your head feeling like it’s going to split open. You push away from him and are surprised when he lets you.

You back away slowly, grabbing your pajamas from the floor and throwing them on. You keep an eye on him the entire time, but he doesn’t move. He simply looks at you.

You don’t know why he’s simply letting you and you don’t care. You turn around and start running.

Fuck the house, you thought, fuck your stuff, fuck everything.  You have to get out while you still can.  You don’t know what else Shigaraki will do to you if you stay.  And...your poor grandmother.  Now you know why she never moved out of the house. She stayed here for years to protect people, to protect you.

You don’t take time to pack things.  In a blind panic, you run through the hallways of the house, down the stairs, making a beeline to the door.  The headache you were feeling from before intensifies.  As you make it to the final stair, a wave of weakness and dizziness overcomes you.  You barely keep yourself upright as you grip the banister.  You push yourself to the wall, using it to prop yourself up, as you take two more steps.

But the weakness is too much, and your knees buckle.  You fall to the floor hard, the room spinning around you wildly.  Oh god, what’s wrong with me?  You begin to panic, trying to take huge gulps of air, but breathing has become so hard.

You can’t let this stop you from getting out of the house, you have to get out now. You roll yourself over onto your stomach, determined to drag yourself to the door if need be.

And then you see him.  Shigaraki.  He appears more solid than earlier, leaning against a doorframe with the biggest triumphant smirk you have ever seen on his face.

“Not feeling so good, are we?”

You freeze in your quest to drag yourself up as you stare at him.  He begins to walk towards you, slowly, deliberately, Making you feel like prey.  Like you’re being hunted

“What did you do to me?” you whisper in fear.  You know deep down what is happening to you, but you don’t truly want to admit it.  Want to be in denial.  Want him to tell you nothing is wrong.

He lets out a twisted laugh, ignoring your question entirely.  “Do you know how boring it was, with nothing but that pathetic old woman to keep me company for years?  She was just familiar enough with poltergeists to guard against me, but not enough to banish me entirely.”

You had no idea your grandmother knew anything at all about spirits until you found all those books in her library, read her notes.  You certainly hadn’t.

“But then you showed up at her doorstep, needing a place to stay. You intrigued me from the start.  A naive little thing who had no idea what she was stepping into. And your grandmother knew that. She knew I was becoming obsessed. That I wanted to corrupt you.”

Corrupt you, you think dimly, thinking of the event just earlier. The one that started your mad dash to get out of the house.  Waking up and being unable to move. Held down by his power and forced to feel pleasure you didn’t want as he took you. You shiver at the thought, revulsion and lust warring with each other.

“That’s why she sent you away from me. And that’s why I killed her.”

It feels like your heart stops beating for a second. Tears start flowing from your eyes and running down your face.  “...You killed her?  She died because of me?” 

Your muscles cramp harshly, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of pain.  You try to scoot back from the malignant ghost that is approaching you, the murderous ghost that took the last of your family from you. But you’re too tired and too dizzy to manage it.  You lay your head back against the floor.

“Yeah, I killed her,”  he lets out a harsh laugh. “And yeah, that’s why she died. I warned her of the consequences of what would happen if she didn’t bring you back.  She didn’t listen.”

A haze is descending over your eyes. Everything is becoming distant, except for Shigaraki’s form, his voice, his words.

“And then, after what I did to get you back here, you were going to try and get rid of me,” he growls in a low, dangerous tone.  “You don’t seem to understand that you belong to me.”

He approaches where you lay, immobilized, unable to do anything but watch as he slowly sits down on the floor beside you.  He reaches over, grabbing your body and situating it into his lap in a princess carry.  

Your muscles convulse, your head spins, and you find yourself whimpering from the pain.  He grins as he runs his fingers through your hair, making his way down your jawline to cup your face.  

“You’re dying, little pet.  And quickly, at that.  The things you can find in old houses is truly amazing.  Like the arsenic I found in a forgotten corner of the basement.”

Your veins turn to ice, the haze clouding your mind lifting just a bit.  The terror pushes all other emotions out, as if you’re a being of pure fear and panic, as if you’ve never known anything else.  

Your eyes widen and you try to shake your head, before the dizziness forces you to stop.  “No no no, please no.  Please tell me you’re joking, trying to scare me.”

He huffs out a soft laugh. “Would I joke about this?  It’s true. I sensed you might do something stupid and I was right. I slipped the poison into your food after you tried to weaken me.”

You try to push away, to get out of his arms, but you’re too weak. He simply puts a bit more pressure into his hold to keep you in place. The mere effort is enough to leave you panting for breath.

“What do you mean to accomplish?  If I’m dead…”. Your stomach cramps again, harder this time, and your sentence cuts out in a pained gasp.

He gives a truly wicked laugh, and his lips curl up in a smirk. “If you’re dead, you’re trapped here. Just like I am.”

More tears roll down your face. “I don’t wanna die,” you whimper, “and I don’t want to be stuck here with you.”  It’s hard to keep your eyes open any more. They begin to slowly close as the room darkens.

He shifts you further into his lap, stroking his hands through your hair and kissing the tears running down your face. The gentle gesture is so at odds with the fact that he’s the one killing you.

“You have no choice in the matter,” he chuckles, “it’s happening whether you want it or not. It was only a matter of time anyway, you just sped up my timeline.”

Your muscles begin to seize up, and seeking some sort of comfort from the pain, you turn your head into the chest of your murderer. “I hate you,” you whimper, before grasping his hoodie, burying your face into it to muffle your crying.

His arms wrap around you more solidly, hand coming around the back of your head to cradle it.  “That’s okay, pet. I have all the time in the world to make you love me.”  The last thing you hear before your eyes close for the final time is Shigaraki whispering in your ear “after all, we’ll be together forever.”

~~~~ 

Tag: @monst, @secondhand-trash, @animewh0re, @thewheezingwyvern, @legend-of-frost, @mothwithteeth​, @mhafanfics19​, @kazooli​, @lildreamer93​, @yaoyorozuwrites​, @dee-madwriter​

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #ghost shigaraki #shigaraki smut #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura #yandere bnha #yandere #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw somnophilia #don't judge #i just needed ghost ween

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is not entirely sure of how it happens. But one moment he’s the gardener of Locksley Hall, and the next he’s run off to marry the lords daughter. A girl he despises.

Well, sort of.

Warnings: Smoking.

A/N: this is (loosely) based on the Locksley Hall poem by Tennyson, but the relationship between them is pretty heavily inspired by Atonement by Ian McEwan (the first part of the book) and the story at large also slightly inspired by Downton Abbey.   Also, I’ve changed the law in this. As I understand it (from watching Downton Abbey) girls could never inherit the estate, no matter if she was married or not. Here you will inherit, but only if you are married and it will then go to your husband. Also, I was listening to Old Money – lana del rey the entire time I was writing this. 

-

Locksley Hall, England – 1920.

It’s June, and Tom finds himself praying for rain.  

It’s one of those summer days when the air stands still. Not a whiff of wind, no breeze in the trees, not a cloud in the sky. Just an ever-pressing, inescapable heat that seems to paint the whole world a hazy golden shade.  

He’s knee-deep in the earth, sweat running down his back, shovelling soil under the merciless sun. It’s midday and the warmth is intolerable. He can already feel the blisters he’ll have on his hands tomorrow. To top it all off his head is pounding and he reminds himself to give Harrison a good kick in the chin the next time he sees him; for convincing him that one more drink wouldn’t hurt.  

And god, he desperately wants a cigarette.  

“God, it’s hot today” Madeleine’s bored voice drifts out the open window. “One can hardly think straight”.

Tom lifts his head and observes her through the glass. The owner of the voice is in the conservatory. Wearing a lace dress and her dark curls perfectly pinned into place. She is primly drinking tea alongside her mother; safely hidden away from the beaming sun.    

He swipes the sweat from his forehead before shovelling the spade further down in the dirt. A sudden urge to throw some of the earth through the conservatory window hits him, just enough to dirty up her white gown. But he resists it. Instead he sits down by the flowerbed and leans his pounding head against the wall. His sore muscles scream in relief. Lighting a cigarette, he then closes his eyes and inhales deeply. The whole world goes white as the sun shines through his closed eyelids and a soft sigh escapes him.  

“Have you received any more letters from Sir Hatfield?” He hears lady Locksley inquire from inside.  

“What, James?”  

“Yes, of course James, has he written you again?”  

“Thankfully not”.  

“Oh, don’t be silly child, he’s the owner of Hatfield house! God knows you could do worse than him” Lady Locksley scolds her oldest daughter. Despite himself Tom’s interest is peaked, so he keeps smoking and listening to the conversation, ignoring his gardening duties.  

“But he’s such a bore” Madeleine whines in response. “Honestly mother, all he ever talks about is hunting. And Hatfield house is a terrible building, you know I can’t stand Tudor architecture. Plus, James is ancient.”  

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s not ancient, he’s ten years younger than your father.”  

“Exactly, and I’m two-and-twenty years old!”  

“Oh, do be quiet, you’re very lucky he’s shown any interest in you at all. I have talked to your father about this. It’s high time for you to get married. Ever since Francis…” she trails off and Tom knows why. Francis had been her oldest child and only son, the one set to inherit the land and the title. Who had died in the war during the battle of the Somme. Tom had known Francis and had not been fond of him. Upon hearing about his death he’d wondered if the heir had been shot by one of his own, though he did not air this suspicion. Tall and handsome Francis may have had been, but he had also been entitled, rude and unkind to animals. He’d beaten his horses, screamed at the servants and taunted his sisters.    

Lady Locksley continues with a new air of authority in her voice. “It’s more important than ever before that we find you a good match. You know what’s at stake if you don’t marry and marry soon”.    

Silence for a second, and unease is setting like lead in Tom’s stomach. Maybe this isn’t a conversation he should listen in to.  

“Yes, I know.” The words sound heavy and reluctant in Madeleine’s mouth.    

He opens his eyes and discretely as he can he pops his head up to sneak a look through the window. The look on the young heir’s face strikes him. It’s not sad, nor angry or dismayed. It’s apathetic. Like she’s somewhere far, far away.  

“Boy, I thought I told you to start digging!” Bertie Higgins voice booms over the grounds as he crosses the corner of the building and walk towards Tom, who quickly puts out his cigarette.  

An elderly man, with bushy beard and eyebrows, a bit too fond of beer and with fingernails so dirty Tom wonders if they’ve ever been cleaned, walks towards him. Mr. Higgins has worked as the head gardener on the grounds of Locksley Hall for longer than anyone could remember.  

“Sorry Mr. Higgins, I just took a breather” he says before putting out his cigarette and picking up his shovel again. Mr. Higgins observes him for a moment, then he leans in closer and whiffs of the beer the older man had for lunch hits Tom’s face. “Listen, boy” he says in a low voice “no good will come from spying on them gentle folks, hear me? No good will come of it”.

“Mr. Higgins I wasn’t -” Tom begins to defend himself but the gardener pats his shoulder and continuous in his stern voice. “Is no use lyin’ to me, boy, I’m too old, I’ve seen too much. You’ve been sniffin’ after that young heir since you came back. ’s no use lad. Them folks are not for the likes of us, above your station she is, well above your station.” Tom wants to protest. For he has most certainly not been sniffing after anyone, least of all Madeleine Locksley, but Mr. Higgins continues. “Now Alice,” he says and pats his shoulder again “she’s some good maid she is, why not ask her out?”  

Alice was indeed a maid at Locksley Hall. Pretty and always ready for a laugh. She’d made it perfectly clear of her interest in him too. There was however a streak of pettiness to the girl that he wasn’t too fond of, and therefor he’d reclined her thus far. But he doesn’t particularly feel like sharing that with Mr. Higgins.  

“Now boy” Mr. Higgins goes on. “You had your breather, go back to diggin’, if I told you once I told’ you a thousand times, you dig when the sun’s out and the dirt is dry an’ you water when the sun’s gone down”.  

Tom goes back to digging, the sun burning his neck, and his joints already protesting.  

He doesn’t notice Madeleine’s brown eyes observing him from within the conservatory.  

***  

The bathwater has gone cold. Still, she stays in the water. The prospect of putting down her book and getting up and ready for yet another family dinner seems dull at best. The rose-scented cold water feels refreshing against her skin. Today really had been unbearably hot. 

Still the heat lingers in the air.

Outside the bathrooms leaded windows the last rays of daylight are lighting up the grounds. Though the light in the gardener’s cottage is already lit.  

Dropping her copy of Pride & Prejudice to the floor she sinks further down into the water. Leaning her head back against the edge of the tub she closes her eyes and sighs.  

She’d just gotten to the part in the book where Elizabeth refuses Mr. Darcy’s proposal and it had annoyed her. How Elizabeth could refuse Mr. Darcy and all his possessions, and it didn’t lead to despair and desolation for her entire family, instead, as if by the waving of a magic wand, everything worked out beautifully in the end. That wasn’t real life.

Everything was annoying her today. Her mother’s persistent nagging, her father’s detachment, granny’s constant complaining. Tom’s strong arms wielding a shovel. The cotton shirt sticking to his sweaty back, the suspenders holding up his muddy trousers.  

She sinks further down into the cold water.  

Tom had looked annoyed today as well. But then again, he’d seemed permanently aggravated ever since he got back from France, at least in her presence. She’d seen him laugh plenty of times with Harrison from the pub when she visited the village, and with Alice too. He’d even crack a smile from time to time with Mr. Higgins. But her presence always seemed to put a frown on his face.

It had not always been this way.

As children they had played. They had explored the woods like travellers discovering a new world. Had run over the poppy fields pretending they could fly. They’d made it down to the sea and Old Sailor Joe had told them stories of Odysseus, and his long journey home. They’d sneaked out and slept under the stars and he had told her all of what Mr. Higgins had taught him about botany. Of how the things we sow in the ground with time will grow. About which flowers could kill you, and which ones could heal.

They had shared secrets and kept them between themselves, solemnly sworn blood-oaths with all the seriousness of a promise between children. They’d sworn that whatever happened between them stayed that way. That his secrets were hers and she’d keep them to her grave, and likewise for him.

Then she’d been sent away to boarding school and he had gone to the village school and that had been the end of that. During the holidays so much time had seemed to have passed between them that it was hard to pick up the threads of childish games where they’d left them. Then, war had broken out and she’d been sent to live with relatives in Canada, and Tom, well, Tom had joined the army.

Once they’d seen each other again years had passed, and they were strangers to one another.

The last evening light shines over the grounds of Locksley Hall, but Madeleine doesn’t move out of her bath, instead she stares out the window, feeling no motivation to move.  

Everything is fleeting, that was what she kept feeling. The hours, the days, the weeks, the months and years. Time passed her by so rapidly and yet all the days looked the same. She felt like a leaf landing in a river, being swept away with the stream with no control of where it was going or were it’d end up. Soon, she would be married, most likely to dreary James Hatfield, and then they would settle in Hatfield house and she would never spend her days roaming the grounds of Locksley Hall again.

Or maybe, she wouldn’t marry, and upon the death of her father and in the lack of a male heir, all their lands and possessions would go to the crown, and they’d all would be left with nothing.

A scream works itself larger in her throat. It had started earlier that day, with her mother in the conservatory. It would only grow larger, and larger until she wouldn’t be able to hold it in any longer. She knew this much from experience.

It felt like this,

In school they’d been taught about diamonds, about how with heat, pressure, and time diamonds are formed to something so unbreakable and everlasting that only another diamond can cut it. She’d imagined how all the screams she’d held inside, pressed between two lungs, over time created so much pressure that they’d turn her insides into diamonds.

As a child she and Tom had snuck into the library one night. In a book of medical terms they’d found the word autopsy with the description:  “An examination of a body after death to determine the cause of death or the character and extent of changes produced by disease — called also necropsy”. Not understanding much of this they had searched the other medical books until they found a more thorough description of what the word meant.

She had been horrified upon finding the truth in all its bloody glory. How, upon one’s death, a pathologist would cut you open to see what they could find. Painted pictures of the procedure followed, and Madeleine is still certain that the image of a cut open human heart is imprinted on her retinas forever.

She imagined it like this,

When they cut her open they won’t find veins, or blood, or intestines. But instead a cloud of smoke as they’ll tear her up, and inside –

dust. 

And a diamond heart; at the living core of which a handful of secrets shared between children years ago were kept. And the pathologists will look at one another and ask themselves, ‘why did she walk around with a diamond heart for all those years?’ Not realising, that her diamond heart was a perfect symbol of her.

Beautiful and valuable.  

And essentially useless.

The door to the bathroom bursts open, and a very aggravated eleven-year-old girl stands on the threshold. Her cheeks are flushed red, not only from a day spent playing in the sun, but from barely held-back rage.  

“That hag!” she bursts out. Her curly, brown hair a mess, wearing a grass-stained dress. A big hole at the sole her left sock.

Madeleine finally steps out of the cold water, pulls on her robe and turns to Beatrix.

“Beanie darling, you know you can’t call people that. Now, what has happened?”

“She told me I’d only be fit to marry a sailor the way I look! And then she had the nerve to say that I was lacking manners! Just because I told her I’d love to marry a sailor, at least he wouldn’t be such a bore!”

The older sister tries to hold back a smile, not wanting to encourage this kind of behaviour. “Would we perhaps be talking about granny?” she inquires.

“Do we know of anyone else that fit the description absolute hag?” her little sister answers, hand on her hip, clearly still annoyed. “Also, she says I have to change for supper in the nursery, god knows why; I’m hardly trying to impress nanny, and that they are waiting for you downstairs.”

And thus, it is time to face the unavoidable and join the lion’s den. Madeleine steps into her adjoining bedroom to get dressed and Beatrix follows closely behind.

“You’ll never guess who she suggested you should marry” Beatrix continues, amusement in her voice, as she sits down at her sisters dressing table, inspecting the bottles of scent and jars of powder with a bemused look on her young face.

“Was it by any chance James Hatfield?” Madeleine answers as she steps into the blue frock Alice had laid out for her earlier.

Beatrix stares at her sister in incredulity and in a heartbroken voice she wails with disbelief in every syllable,” OH, surely not! Leine, you can’t marry him! You simply can’t!”

Benie and Lenie were the affectionate nicknames the sister had for one another. As a child Beatrix had not been able to say Madeleine, but instead only pronounced the latter part of the name and dragged the vocals out into a ‘leeniee’ every time she called out for her.

“Well, he hasn’t proposed yet, so nothing is set” Madeleine answers while avoiding her sister’s questioning eyes, inspecting her hair in the mirror instead.

“So that’s why they’ll have a ball then, I was wondering what called for such an occasion”. 

“A ball?”

“Yes” Beatrix states, inspecting her own freckled, sunburned face in the mirror. “Mommy told granny that they would have one as soon as possible”.

The scream works itself larger in Madeleine’s lungs.

“Oh, well. It can’t be helped” she says and leads her sister out of the bedroom. “Now, you really do need to change, or nanny will be furious with you, and I’ll have to join them downstairs”.

The bedroom door closes behind them as they leave.

***  

The late evening air is loaded with the scent of rhododendrons. In the trees the nightingales sing, and the summer air feel cool against her bare arms as she steps out into the night.

Carefully, as to not be seen from any of the windows, she makes her way across the garden. It is dark, but on her childhood paths her feet still knows where to tread. She walks past the house, the gigantic rhododendron bush, and along the pathway lined with pink geraniums, down the trail past the summerhouse by the lake and further still until she arrives at the fountain by the labyrinth. The deep green hedges are lined with powder pink hydrangeas, blue hyacinths and cardinal red peonies. In the middle of it a square with a fountain. And if you look past that, the entrance to the labyrinth itself. 

If she had walked further still, away from the labyrinth, she’d come to a wide field of poppies. Had she, instead of walking north from the house, walked west she would have ended up by the sea, and the cliffs and Locksley Bay. East of the house laid the road to the village, and then the road to town. South of the manor the forest grew.  

She doesn’t go through the entrance of the labyrinth but sits down by the edge of the fountain. From her pocket she picks up a package of Woodbine cigarettes, but when she goes to light it, the lighter only flickers.

“Need a light?”

She nearly falls into the fountain, taken by surprise by the familiar voice. Tom laughs and walks out of the shadows. Hands in pockets and hair a wild mess.  

“Wanker!” she burst out, heart beating painfully hard in her chest.

“Now, now, where did you learn a word like that?”

He’s so smug, and it’s making her skin crawl with anger. She ignores his question and ask, “did you follow me here?”

He moves closer still, until he’s right in front of her. Then he takes out his lighter. She puts the cigarette in her mouth and he lights it for her.

“No” he answers eventually. “Was just finishing up watering the peonies.”

“You water the peonies in the middle of the night?”

He lights a cigarette for himself and blows out pearl white smoke into the summer night before he answers. “Yeah, as Mr. Higgins keeps telling me. You dig when the soil is dry, otherwise you’ll shovel mud, and you water the plants when the sun’s gone down and the soil is cool, or you’ll just end up boiling the poor things”.

She looks at him, really looks at him; while he’s busy looking up at the moon. His white cotton shirt is filled with stains of earth and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, a worn linen jacket thrown over his shoulder. Worn suspender holds up his muddy pants. His brown locks frame his face perfectly and in the moonlight his skin, tanned from working out all day, seems to almost radiate. He looks positively angelical. A sudden urge to pull her fingers through his hair overwhelms her. 

She looks away.

The nightingales sing louder than ever in the silence, as do the buzzing insects. Somewhere in the far distance a fox screech.

“You know” he says, sitting down on the bench opposite the fountain, leaning back he spreads out into a relaxed position. “Whenever I hear a vixen’s cry I think about Gideon’s ghost.”

“Well, you are the inhabitant of Gideon’s cottage”.

When, or indeed why, the gardener’s cottage on Locksley Hall had been baptised Gideon’s cottage no one seemed to know. Not even Old Sailor Joe, and rumour has it he’d been guarding the boats in Locksley Bay since the first wave crashed against its shore.

But the gardener of Locksley Hall had, for as long as anyone could remember, lived in Gideon’s cottage.

As a child her older brother had frightened her with tales of Gideon’s ghost, and how he still roamed the grounds of the manor, still volatile over long forgotten quarrels. When ever she’d hear a fox’s cry at night, as they laid tucked up in their shared nursery, he’d told her it was the ghost of Gideon, seeking out small girls to take out his revenge on. She had been terrified.

When she’d told this to Tom he had lost his temper with her brother, the two had never gotten along, and he’d taken the older boy to the ground, punching him with his small fists until a furious Bertie Higgins, who’d seen the quarrel from across the yard, had pulled him off him. Madeleine knew Tom had gotten a trashing from Mr. Higgins for the attack and a stern telling off from her father.

“I love that old cottage” he says with a found smile on his face, blowing out more smoke into the air between them. “But I’m yet to see his ghost. ’s a shame really, would have asked if the legend was true about gold being buried at the cliffs of Locksley Bay”.

She smiles, and the nightingales keeps on singing. The scent of peonies and hyacinths is heavy in the air, despite the smoke.  

Tom observing her with an intensity that unnerves her, so she turns away from him to look down into the fountain. Slowly she lowers her hand into the cold water and she watches as the goldfish swim around her.

“Why are you out here smoking at night?” he asks, and she turns to back to look at him, pulling her hand out of the water. He’s still observing her, and she feels almost naked under his glance, despite the silk gown she’s still wearing from dinner. It makes her nervous when he looks at her like that, because underneath their easy tones of conversation, she’s not actually sure he likes her all that much. She shivers, goosebumps all over her naked arms.  

“Here” he says and throws her his jacket. She utters a thank you and pulls it on. It smells of earth and smoke, and fresh cut grass. It smells like him and her diamond heart beat harder in her chest.

“Papa doesn’t like me smoking in the house.” She answers in the end.  

In fact, her father was against her smoking at all. It was a habit that had begun at Talbot Heath boarding school. Smoking with the other girls behind the gymnasium. They’d practised smoking without coughing, feeling mighty smug when they succeeded.

But smoking was, as it had been pointed out to her by her father, ‘not a dignified habit for a woman of her class to partake in’. When she’d gotten back from Canada after the war they’d have words about the subject. In the end the general agreement was that she did not smoke in the house, or amongst other people. She didn’t always follow these rules. There were days when all she did was sit in her bathroom, smoke cigarette after cigarette and read books. A part of her wanted to walk around the house and leave a trace of smoke in every room. Like a ghost, reminding them that she is still there. But a deeply rooted respect, verging on fear, of her father has always kept her from doing such a thing.

Tom hums in reply, that smug smile on his face again. “And what’s dear papa to say about this then? Hmm?” He nods at her, sitting just a meter away from him, wearing his jacket. “Princess sneaking out at night to share a smoke with the gardener?”

“Oh, do shut up”.  

“You know you really have improved your vocabulary since we last spoke” he replies dryly, “must be all that reading”.

“How do you know I read so much”.

And maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but she swears he blushes, his cheek the colour of peonies. “I can see the light in your window from my cottage at night”.

“Oh, and you’re keeping tabs on me? How sweet!” You reply in a mocking tone, grateful that you get the chance to be smug for once.

“Well, it’s hard not to notice it” the annoyance is clear in his voice. Then he changes the subject. “What are you reading so late at night anyway?”

“At the moment, Tennyson”.

He groans, “of course you like Tennyson” he scoffs, puts out his cigarette and lights a new one, offering her one as well, which she accepts.

“What’s wrong with Tennyson?” She asks, indignant.  

“Nothing I guess” he responds, “unless you’d like to read about things other than knights and fair maidens”  

“He did not only write about knights and fair maidens!” She defends fiercely. “He wrote about love and loss and death and privilege and -”  

“Oh, he wrote about privilege, did he! Well, you know all about that, don’t you? Little miss ivory tower”.

“And what do you read then? What is so good it makes Tennyson look foolish to you?” She tries to keep her annoyance out of her voice, but its difficult, especially when he looks at her like that. Like he finds her laughable.  

“Recently? Mostly Gorky.”

“You always did prefer your literature Russian. You’re politics too if Alice is to be believed.”  

He smiles, a little less condescending this time, “and you always loved your poetry, and no, she isn’t”.

“You must like some of the poets, surely?”  

“I’m rather fond of Shelley, actually”

“And the sunlight clasps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea:  what is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?” she quotes, not considering the implication of her words until they’ve already left her mouth. It had always been her favourite poem, and the words fell from her lips so effortlessly. But the intensity in his eyes as he observers her seem to change the very air around them. It is as though the whole world stills, if only for a moment. Like the nightingales and the foxes and the crickets all have heard her, and quieted down, in suspense over what’s to happen next.

He stands up and puts out his cigarette. Looking away from her he suggests, “we should head back, it’s late. I’ll walk you”. So, she puts out hers as well and follows him, and in silence they head back to the manor house, each avoiding the others eyes.  

She pulls his jacket closer to her.  

Then, he stops in his tracks. “Look,” he says and points up at the night sky “Andromeda burns bright tonight”.  

Already as a child he’d been good at recognising the constellations. Many a night they had sneaked out and wandered off to the poppy fields where they’d laid down their heads, and he had pointed up to the sky, just as he was doing now, and taught her to read them.  

“Andromeda, who was tied to the rocks, to be eaten by the sea monster Cetus?”

He nods, but doesn’t look away from the sky, “but Perseus rescued her”.

“And you criticised Tennyson for writing about knights and maidens” she teases.

He looks down at her then, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. They start walking again, his hands in his pockets, looking at the road ahead.  

“So, what did your dear Tennyson write about privilege?”  

“That opportunities are only given to those with riches already” she answers, and then she quotes, “every door is barr’d with gold, and opens but to golden keys.”

Tom is silence for a moment. They’re nearing the end of the road; they’re by the rhododendron bush, and they’ve reached the points were they have to walk their separate ways.  

She removes his jacket and hands it to him.  

“Keep it, for now. You can give it back later, you’ll freeze.”

“No” she argues. “No, Alice will see it and wonder”.

He doesn’t argue with her on that point but takes the jacket from her outstretched hand. “Well” he says, awkwardly. “See you around, Lady Madeleine”.  

They part ways.  

***

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED

(A/N: I’m reposting this because the first time i posted it didn’t show up in the tags and it had like 3 notes)

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[biwenqing]

for the 5 times meme! wei wuxian, losing things

i looked at this prompt and thought “oh i could go so angsty with this” and then tried to find as much fluff potential as possible 😂 thank you so, so much for sending this in, i adored writing it! i added a plus one time he finds something!

give me a character, and a situation, and I’ll write you 5 ficlets on 5 times that situation occurred

#1) Lotus Pods “See, this is how you take the seeds out.” Jiang Cheng sat on the bank of the river and Wei Wuxian crouched at his side. Wei Wuxian wasn’t quite sure what to think of his new brother’s often surprising temper, but he had decided that he very much liked having a brother anyway. “Now you try.”

Wei Wuxian looked down at the lotus pod in his own hands. He carefully tried to pluck out a seed as Jiang Cheng had shown him, but it slipped to fall on the ground.

“It’s okay, you can have some of mine,” Jiang Cheng said, holding out a seed.

Wei Wuxian cupped his hand and Jiang Cheng carefully put the seed in it. He ate it with a smile. It was still odd (and wonderful!) to be able to eat food even when he wasn’t hungry. “Thanks!”

“Hmph,” Jiang Cheng said, which meant ‘you’re very welcome’ Wei Wuxian was pretty sure. “Go pick more pods, I’ll get the seeds and we can bring them to shijie.”

“Okay!” He scrambled up, being careful not to knock over the basket they brought. Taking off his shoes and rolling up his pants, he splashed into the water. He began picking pods, but dropped them after just a moment as he called, “I see a frog!”

“Really? Where?” Jiang Cheng left the shore and carefully waded his way.

“Shh, right in front of me, behind some leaves,” Wei Wuxian whispered. “Should I catch it?”

“Bet you can’t,” Jiang Cheng challenged.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw the other boy was smiling. Grinning back, Wei Wuxian called, “I bet I can catch more frogs than you can!” before diving into the lotuses, the pods he’d already picked floating forgotten (and later lost) in the water.

#2) A Drawing

Wei Wuxian dug around his spare clothes, tossing them to the side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be packing?” Nie Huaisang asked, appearing to lean against the doorway.

“He is,” Jiang Cheng, the traitor, said from his side of the room.

“I will, I will, I just need to find something first!” Wei Wuxian said, looking around.

“What’re you looking for?” Nie Huaisang moved closer, ignoring the way Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“It’s nothing really!” Wei Wuxian said but not loud enough to cover Jiang Cheng.

“A picture for ‘Lan Zhan’.” The name was said in Jiang Cheng’s rude (in Wei Wuxian’s opinion) imitation of Wei Wuxian’s voice. He didn’t sound like that!

Nie Huaisang gave a little laugh. “Oh really? And why would an esteemed Jade of Lan want that?”

“No reason,” Wei Wuxian said quickly. It was a drawing of some of the rabbits from the cave. That way Lan Wangji could have a reminder of them and of the promises the two of them made together. Wei Wuxian remembered the way Lan Wangji smiled at the lantern art.

“Of course.” Nie Huaisang was covering a smile with their fan. “Did it fall behind the bed?”

Wei Wuxian stopped digging through his clothes and tugged the bed a little way from the wall. Sure enough, the paper had slipped behind. He pulled it out triumphantly, before carefully holding it so neither Nie Huaisang nor Jiang Cheng could see what was on it. They wouldn’t understand.

“You’re welcome,” Nie Huaisang said, and then looked from one brother to the other. “Any other way I can be of help?”

“No, you’ve done enough damage,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Though I guess now he will pack.”

“I need to give this to Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian hurried out of the room.

Nie Huaisang’s laughter and Jiang Cheng’s cursing could be heard from behind him as Wei Wuxian navigated the Cloud Recesses one more time. He hoped Lan Wangji would smile again.

#3) Chenqing “You lost your spiritual tool,” Wen Qing asked flatly.

“I wouldn’t say lost it...” Wei Wuxian tried to persuade. He was washing a-Yuan’s clothes at the moment and Wen Qing had appeared to drop her own and Granny’s on the pile for him to clean as well. “I just don’t have it right now.”

“Can’t you feel it?” Wen Qing asked.

Wei Wuxian didn’t really like talking about his connection to Chenqing (and it would only make her worry), so he joked instead. “I think the blood pool ate it!”

“The blood pool didn’t eat it.” She settled on a rock near him.

Wei Wuxian was glad to see her taking even a little bit of a break. Wen Qing had been using so much of her energy healing all the Wens. None of them had been in good shape. “Maybe Uncle planted it?” he offered next

“No.” She hadn’t laughed, but the tension in her face lessened.

“It would grow and make cursed fruit,” Wei Wuxian chatted on, turning to focus on some dirt that was packed into the knees of a-Yuan’s pants. “Then we can have cursed fruit wine and sell it at a high price!”

“Who would want to buy cursed wine?” She took the wet clothes when he passed them to her and set them on a different nearby rock to dry.

“Someone who has already had too much regular wine?” he mused.

“Alright, but how do we sell it to a vendor?”

Wei Wuxian thought that over. “We’ll just have to open an inn. Be our own vendor.” Finally, she gave a little snort of laughter. He turned away to hide his own smile.

“I see. I’ll inform Uncle of the plans.” Wen Qing stood then, stretching. “Get some rest after you finish here.”

“Only if you do the same!”

“We’re both going to die of exhaustion,” she declared with a sigh as she wandered away.

#4) a-Yuan “A-Yuan!” Why did he always have to run off when Wei Wuxian was trying to buy potatoes? Had Wen Qing trained him to do this to prevent him from bringing potatoes home? If so, it was a very clever tactic.

Wei Wuxian moved through the crowd, swallowing down the hope that once more Lan Wangji would appear and save the day. That was something that would only happen once in their lives.

“A-Yuan!” He came around the corner to find a-Yuan was playing with two kids who seemed to be close to him in age. They were all playing with little grass butterflies, which was probably what attracted a-Yuan away from Wei Wuxian in the first place.

A young woman who was nearby spotted him and came over. “Are you his dad?”

Wei Wuxian nodded because the truth was too complicated and there was something that longed for her simple question to be that truth.

She smiled. “Oh good, I was worried where he might have come from when my girls got his attention. Sorry, they gave you a scare.”

“As long as he’s safe,” Wei Wuxian smiled back. “We don’t live in town, so he doesn’t get to play much with other kids.”

“Ah, I wondered why you didn’t look familiar,” she said. “He’s been very good and gentle. He’s a very sweet kid.”

“Yes, he is. Thank you,” Wei Wuxian felt something calm in his heart. A-Yuan’s smile... that was why they had done all of this. This was what made all their hardships worth it, seeing a-Yuan grow and learn and be happy.

Now if only he could teach the kid to stop wandering away...

#5) A Teacup Wei Wuxian stared at the table and frowned, hands on his hips. He had wanted to surprise Lan Wangji by putting together a meal for them to share (and making sure it wasn’t spicy at all). Lan Wangji had been so busy with his new duties and Wei Wuxian knew how much his husband could use a break. A quiet evening together would be the perfect surprise.

But one of the teacups was missing. Wei Wuxian crouched and looked to see if it had rolled under the table and then looked under all the other furniture in the room. The little white cup was nowhere to be seen.

He could take out their second set, but he had already put food in this one. It would be silly to mess more dishes just for things to be “perfect.” Sighing, Wei Wuxian took out just a cup from the other set and placed it.

Lan Wangji didn’t comment on it when they sat together to eat, serving each other with the ease of ever-growing familiarity. His husband did smile, as if having a private joke, at the black teacup among the rest of the white dishes.

Ah.

Wei Wuxian hid his own smile as he drank from the cup itself. The parallel was pretty funny, now that he thought of it.

+1) A Home The early fall evening held the hint of coming chill, a crispness that was refreshing after the summer. Wei Wuxian breathed in deeply as he tended to the lotuses he and Lan Wangji had coaxed into growing among the rest of the garden.

The Cloud Recesses were quiet around him but for Lan Wangji’s playing, which wrapped out from the open Jingshi door. But Wei Wuxian remembered the sound of his little Lan students’ soft laughter, the sounds that were always coming from the communal kitchen during the day, and the sound of practice swords striking or music being perfected. The Cloud Recesses were rarely as quiet as their rules would imply.

Wei Wuxian leaned back on his heels to turn his gaze down toward the buildings that the Jingshi was set apart from. What filled him was contentment. He didn’t feel trapped, as his teen self would have pictured. He was older now, had been through a lot more and sometimes the quiet was nice. Soothing. Other times, it was fun to try and figure out how to flex those Lan rules. Kept his mind sharp!

Wei Wuxian was apprehensive to think of this as home. He had lost too many homes before. But as the years passed and he found himself with a place he would always be welcome... where kids laughed, where he got to be with his husband, where he got to see their son and nephew often, where Wen Ning has his own little space within walking distance... It was becoming harder and harder to resist the truth.

He’d found another home. Maybe this time, he’d get to keep it.

#wangxian #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wen qing #jiang sibs #lan yuan #nhs also appears! #my fic #a answers #i hope you enjoy :D #okay this was a great break from nanowrimo #should i have taken a break? who knows! #a talks #i have stared at so many words these last weeks i hope i didn't miss horrible spelling issues

[leviathans-watching]

Sticks & Stones Chapter 9 (final chapter)

wow I can't believe we're at the end

tysm for reading and staying till the end if you did! I appreciate the love this fic was shown 

I do take requests, so if you’re interested in that you can submit an ask or smth

masterlist here for newcomers!!

*

You had politely declined Asmo's offer to help you get ready for the movies with Mammon, which is how you found yourself in your bathroom, trying to make yourself presentable.

It wasn't that you didn't want his help, it was just that if this did turn out to be a date, you wanted Mammon to be going to the movies with you, not the you Asmo made up.

You knew your line of reasoning was kind of silly, but whatever.

Leaning over to rinse your face, you marveled at how soft your skin was after Asmo's treatment. He had gone all-out with the spa treatment and you were grateful, as it left you feeling refreshed and cleansed.

I'm never going to look good, I should go ask Asmo- You thought, before cutting yourself off.

No, this was something you had to do for yourself, and plus, you had the reassurance Mammon already thought you were attractive.

Thinking back over the past week, you were amazed. You never knew the boys could be so sweet, and even if it had been awkward, all of their words had been nice, albeit slightly overwhelming to hear.

Asmo had apologized for the night before, saying he hadn't meant to lose control, and you had thanked him of apologizing and reassured him it was alright.

You guessed you needed some tough love every now and then.

Brushing your hair, you styled it, smiling at your reflection, satisfied.

Checking the time on your DDD, you realized you had a little less than an hour until Mammon said he would swing by your room, which was perfect.

Pulling on the outfit Asmo had helped you pick out the night before, you sat on your bed to wait.

Putting on a show, you let your mind wander, back to the boys. You just couldn't stop thinking about all of the sweet things they had said and done for you. They would deny it, but Lucifer even let you take a day off from RAD, which was a big deal.

They had all been there for you and made sure to watch out for you, saying all these kind things that were totally out of character for them.

Maybe they had made a big deal out of a couple of bad days, but you were touched.

So it had led to you and Mammon fighting, but you had forgiven each other, realizing you both needed to let it go and accept you were both in the wrong.

You knew, even while you were mad at him, he had no ill intentions to you, and was just trying in his own way to make sure you were okay. Plus, he probably was pressured into telling by the rest of them.

Honestly, you weren't sure why it took you so long to realize you liked him.

You always would seek him out, and it went way more than in an "oh he's my best friend" type of way. Your eyes would instinctively go to him whenever something happened for his reaction, and you just felt so comfortable with him.

You would just chalk it up to you being terrible at deciphering your feelings at leave it at that.

Checking the time on your DDD, you realized it was nearly time.

Mammon had a habit of running a little late, so you weren't expecting his head to peek around your door. "Ready to go?"

Standing, you met his smile with one of your own. "Yep!"

Mammon led the way, and the two of you walked down the front walk. "I figured since it's so nice today we could just walk," Mammon looked over for your opinion, and you nodded.

It was unusually warm, even for spring, the sun providing ample warmth that was offset by the light breeze.

"MC, I uh," Mammon hesitated, and you looked over at him. His face was red beneath his sunglasses.

"Yeah?"

"You look nice," He got out quickly, not meeting your gaze, and you felt a matching blush heating up your cheeks.

"Thanks! So do you." He did look nice, in the same jacket he had lent you earlier in the week with a white button-down half tucked into back skinny jeans. It was obvious he had put effort into making his hair look artfully messy as well, but you had to admit, he could pull it off.

"Thanks," Mammon stuttered out, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

You were not as nervous as you expected yourself to be. Mammon always set you at ease, and this time was no exception, so it was natural to step closer to him, so your arms brushed.

Making it to the theater, you got in line, as there was already a short one formed. The movie wouldn't start for a little bit so you had time to get popcorn and snacks. Wondering what they offered in the devildom in lieu of movie snacks, you jumped slightly when Mammon tapped you.

"What kind of food should we get?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"I don't know." Looking over the menu you saw they did have popcorn, which you were thankful for, but you didn't recognize anything else. "How about popcorn and then your favorite thing, since I've never had any of it?"

Mammon pursed his lips. "What if ya don't like it?"

"More for you, I guess."

Falling into comfortable silence, you checked your DDD, opening Devilgram. As usual, Asmo's story was wild, making you huff out a laugh.

Mammon stiffened beside you, and you looked up questioningly, tuning in to the sounds and conversations around you.

Two girls, a witch and a demon, were gossiping behind you, talking shit about how you must have dragged Mammon here.

"...He's so hot, too. It sucks that he's unavailable all the time now, dealing with them. And they're not even cool like Solomon is..." The voices faded out as the girls walked away.

Mammon put his hand on your arm, but you just rolled your eyes, surprising him.

"This week taught me more than I expected, I guess." You explained, and Mammon smiled. "Plus, what do you think they would do if they knew THE great Mammon was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place, not me?" You teased, and Mammon laughed, eyes still not losing the worried edge.

You were fine, though. You were at the movies with Mammon, the second born demon lord, for maybe a date, and had just spent the last week with the rest of the demon lords falling over to try to reassure you of your worth.

So, you didn't really care what those girls had to say. They were probably jealous, anyway.

With this revelation, that you, a human, could make a demon and a witch jealous, you got a burst of confidence.

"Hey, Mammon, is this a date?"

"What!" Mammon sputtered, face turning red. "MC, ya can't just say something like that!"

"Mammon," You whined, feeling like you had the right to tease him. "Are you saying this isn't?"

"MC," He tried, and you looked up at him, ready to go at him some more, but the words on your tongue faded when you saw something in his eyes that gave you pause.

"Do you want it to be a date?" He finally asked after what seemed like an eternity of staring at each other, and you licked your lips nervously, watching as those damn blue eyes flicked down to track the movement.

"Do you?" You got out, and Mammon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Isn't that obvious?" He asked with a wry smile, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Well, good, 'cause I want it to be one too," You nodded, and Mammon relaxed.

"Good."

"Good."

You stared at each other for a second, but during the conversation you had made it to the front of the line and the attendee was waiting on you to give him your tickets.

Awkwardly letting Mammon go through the transaction, you let yourself get used to the idea, that yes, Mammon had confirmed you were on a date.

"Hey," Mammon got your attention, handing you a thing of popcorn and your cup. Smiling gratefully at him, you let him get the receipt before walking over to the drink machines.

After properly doctoring up your popcorn and filling your cups, you made your way to the showing room and found your seats. At first it was fine, the light conversation flowing easily between you two distracting you, but as soon as the lights dimmed and it got quiet, you knew you were in trouble.

Mammon was just... so distracting. You weren't watching the film, instead looking at him, trying not to be too obvious.

He was focused on the screen entirely, leaving you able to observe how the light flashed against his skin and how his expression would shift thought the scenes.

You were going crazy.

A couple of times your hands brushed while reaching for popcorn, and he turned to look at you then, lips quirking up in a grin.

It was so cheesy.

When the lights came back on, you stood with him, stretching, listening to him babble about the movie. You had a vague idea of what he was talking about, but the more nuanced stuff was lost on you, but you listened anyway, following him as he excitedly led you out of the theater.

When you made it outside, the air was cool against your skin, and Mammon immediately offered you his jacket.

"Wow, really pulling out all the stops, huh?" You took it, slinging it around your shoulders, and Mammon scowled lightly at you, but you could tell there was no heat behind it.

"Ya should be honored!"

Getting the sense that he didn't want to go back home as much as you, you wandered, eventually ended up sitting on the same park bench you had sat on almost a week before.

"MC, I really like ya," Mammon was hesitant in the dark and you almost wished you could make out the blush that accompanied those words. "I think you're the smartest and bravest and coolest, and not to mention, ya put up with all of us, which puts ya in a league all on your own," Mammon continued, and you chuckled. "And I guess I wanna make sure ya know you're not alone."

"Mammon," You breathed, and very gently, his hands were cupping your cheeks, cradling them.

"Can I kiss ya?" He asked, and you nodded, knowing he could feel the motion.

His lips were soft and gentle, pressing against yours in an unbearably sweet way. You sighed a little, and Mammon hummed, smiling into the kiss.

He drew back slowly, reluctantly.

"So don't go thinkin' you're alone if ya feel bad or somethin' stupid like that." Mammon pressed his forehead into yours, and you nodded once more, finding his hand and squeezing it.

Mammon was your best friend. You could show him every ugly part of yourself, bare every inch of your soul, and he'd be there to wipe your tears and make it better every time, and you knew, you'd do the same for him. It only made sense that the feelings went further than either of you knew.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Tags: @nimeryaa​ @omgapolarbear​ @crispyarttravelhumanoid​

Chapter 1

Masterlist

#obey me shall we date #obey me game #mammon x mc #mammon avatar of greed #lucifer obey me #leviswriting #sticks&stones #obey me leviathan #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #first dates #movies

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 2

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Thank you all so much for your thoughts and comments. I enjoy them immensely. I thought this was all going to be from Rowan’s POV, but... I was wrong. CW: Drinking, swearing.

The first Monday after Ashryver Playland opens is always Aelin’s favorite day of the summer. It’s a silly tradition her grandparents started, but it’s been a part of her life as long as she can remember. That very first Monday after the park’s first successful week, the Ashryver Galathinius clan opens up their summer home to the Playland’s staff and families for an all day pool party and barbeque.

Summer has always been Aelin’s favorite season. It means spending three months of pure bliss in her summer home, overlooking the waters of Terrasen from her bedroom balcony. And there’s something about Ashryver’s opening week barbeque that always manages to sets the tone for her summer. Summer doesn’t really begin until the barbeque begins. It’s always marks her first something.

When she was eleven, Aelin met her first real best friend, Dorian – one of the board member’s sons. She’d left the party to hide in the music room, trying to teach herself how to play her favorite Death Cab for Cutie song on the large grand piano, when he wandered in, singing on top of her stumbling melody line with a flawless unbroken tenor. He’d flashed her a giant smile and pushed his floppy dark curls out of his face and sat down on the bench next to her. They’d been best friends ever since. And the firsts only continued from there.

As Aelin finishes drawing a perfect cat eye with her liquid eyeliner she wonders what first awaits her this summer.  

“Aelin, ten minutes til guests.” Her mother, Evalin, walks past her open bedroom door and does a double-take. “Wowww, someone looks especially nice today,” her mom says with a playful gleam in her eye. “Might I ask who you’re dressing up for?” she asks, taking in Aelin’s white eyelet sundress and full face of makeup. “Because I know this certainly isn’t for Dorian. Wisely.”

“I heard that,” Dorian says, bounding up the last few steps and onto the second floor landing. He sees Aelin and grins that very same grin he gave her that first day he spotted her a decade ago and takes off running. Aelin squeals as Dorian hugs her from behind and swings her around, lifting her off her feet.

“Dor, put me down, I just finished doing my hair!” Aelin says, shrugging him off, but she returns his smile fondly, even as he flops down onto her perfectly made bed, making himself comfortable and kicking off his flip flops.

“You do look suspiciously nice, Ace. What’s with the dress and the hair? Aren’t you going to swim?” Dorian asks stretching his arms up and placing them under his head.

Aelin ignores him and goes back to finishing her makeup. She uncaps a crimson red lipstick and leans into the mirror to apply it when –

“You know if you’re actually looking to make out with someone tonight then red lips probably isn’t the right choice.”

Aelin slides her eye to the boy on her bed and then straightens up again, putting the red lipstick away. He does have a point. Dorian bolts upright, eyebrows raised.

“We’re making out with someone tonight? Who?” Dorian asks, poking Aelin’s thigh with one of his toes.

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she remembers the name of the staff member she so thoroughly stalked the other night. So thoroughly, in fact, that she’s actually embarrassed about it. But also, who has a public Facebook profile these days? Rowan Whitethorn, that’s who.

When Aelin realized all she had to do was ask her five year old nephew for the name of the man who rescued him, she was easily able to find the man on the RSVP list for the barbeque. And from there, she sat in front of her computer for hours, soaking in every last detail she could find. Grew up in Wendlyn, went to school at Mistward and majored in computer sciences and graduated four years ago. His interests include photography and fitness and baking (what man enjoys baking and posts pictures of it?).

Aelin is extremely curious as to how he ended up working at Playland. A man with that kind of degree doesn’t usually find himself ripping ticket stubs, but she’s not complaining about it. Aelin really enjoys looking at his face. And his arms. And his back. She’s anxious to talk to him today, which is annoying. Aelin is never anxious around men. She’s fun and flirty and confident, but one look at Rowan had her excess nerves dancing in circles and turning her into kind of a bitch. She’s hoping her second impression is a lot better. Hence, the dress. And the makeup.

“We’re making out with no one.” Aelin shoots a warning glance in Dorian’s direction as she puts on a light pink lip stain.

“You and Chaol didn’t get back together, did you?” Dorian asks, and Aelin cringes.

“Of course not.” She turns to Dorian as she puts on the final touch – her favorite gold hoop earrings. “You don’t think your best friend would have told you if we’d gotten back together?”

“I don’t know, that last break up nearly took us all out, so if we could not repeat that, that’d be great.” Dorian stares at her, willing her to fess up, but Aelin refuses to give him anything in return. It’s way too early to tell Dorian anything.

“All right, then,” he drawls in a silly British accent. “Keep your secrets.”

Aelin sticks out her tongue as her mom calls out from downstairs, “Kids! Party guests are here!”

“Twenty-four-years old, and we’re still fucking kids,” Dorian grumbles as the pair make their way down the grand front staircase. Aelin hops up onto the wooden banister and rides it all the way down to the bottom, shouting “Catch me!” to Dorian as he runs and chases her to the foyer.

Evalin scolds them, but there’s no real bite to it.  Aelin fixes her banister-swept hair and makes her way out to the front stairs where she and her parents will greet all the staff members and their families. Her parents are all about making the Playland employees feel welcomed, and they make a point to learn each and every one of their names. Plus, they’re a stickler for etiquette. Aelin can’t remember a time when she wasn’t on the front steps to welcome party guests as they arrived.

“I’ll meet you out back in… an hour-ish?” Aelin tells Dorian. “Steal me a bottle of pink champagne?”

Dorian bows at the waist. “Yes, your majesty.” He chuckles softly when she flips him off.

Aelin is the last to join her family. Her parents and her brother, for all intents and purposes, Aedion, already perched and ready to welcome the first wave of guests.

An hour later and Aelin’s jaw already hurts from smiling. She’s shaken so many hands and met so many people and made polite conversation with staff members from years past, but there’s still one face that hasn’t shown yet, and Aelin is having a hard time not showing her disappointment. He RSVPed yes, which means he should be here. Not showing up would be very rude. Right?

Aedion shakes out his hands and cracks his neck loudly. “Who’s ready for a drink?”

Aelin is reluctant to leave the front stairs. Leaving the front stairs means they’re finished greeting people at the party, which means that party guests have stopped arriving, and she’s not ready to admit that defeat. She gives one last wistful glance down the long empty driveway before giving in.

“Yeah, I could use a large drink,” Aelin yawns, leaning into her big brother’s shoulder.

“You’re not allowed to be tired,” he says with a laugh, squeezing her arm. “You are a sprightly youth and don’t have a ten-year-old and a five-year-old waking you up every morning at the crack of dawn to fight about watching Cars or Disney Fam Jam.”

Aelin looks up at him. “That’s not a real thing.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“This guy needs a drink,” Aelin says loudly as she and Aedion make their way out to the back patio where the party is really happening, and Aelin relaxes a tiny bit. So what if Rowan isn’t coming and she got all dressed up for nothing? She’ll look extra cute in pictures this year. She’s here with her family on the first real day of summer, and she’s determined to have a good day, regardless.

She takes in the scene around her – everyone seems to be having the best time. Caterers mill around the stone patio, holding out trays of grilled meats and veggies. At the far side of the patio is a long bar with an ample crowd around it. Champagne is being popped and spirits are being poured, and there’s endless bounds of chatter and laughter from all directions. In the middle of it all, the pool is filled with children and adults alike, playing games and doing handstands and lounging on floats.

The edge of the pool fades into the perfect view of the ocean. Aelin takes a deep breath as she watches the waves break against the shore. She listens to the gulls cawing overhead and inhales the salty sea breeze. Despite her small bout of disappointment, Aelin is happy.

Aedion’s two kids squeal for his attention from the pool.

“Dad! Auntie Ae!” Evie calls from the far end of the pool, her usual strawberry blonde ringlets sopping wet around her shoulders. “Watch me dive!”

Evie dives into the side of the pool, her dolphin arms in perfect form as she splashes into the water. She emerges with a giant smile on her freckled face.

“Good job!” Aedion beams. “Okay, drinks, now,” he whispers to Aelin, guiding her toward the bar.

“Where’s your wife?” Aelin asks, looking around for the green eyed brunette, who’s usually hovering around her children.

Aedion points ahead, and sure enough the woman in question stands at the front of the bar, looking insanely glamorous in a black one piece with a sheer leopard kaftan, taking shots of tequila with Aelin’s favorite returning staff member, Elide.

“Lysandra brought our babysitter with us today,” he says with a devious smile and snakes his way through the crowds to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist.

“Aelin, come do shots!” Elide pulls Aelin up to the bar, her outstretched hand helping her weave her way through the throngs of buzzed staff members. “We’re celebrating my promotion!”

“Ellie is officially manager level this summer.” Lysandra and Elide raise their newly filled shot glasses and hand one each to Aelin and Aedion respectively. Aelin hates tequila but loves Elide, so she clinks glasses and downs the alcohol quickly, grabbing a lime and sucking as much of the juice out of it as she can.

She shudders and Aedion punches her in the shoulder playfully. “Lightweight.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and reverts the topic back to Elide. “So, big shot manager. Does this mean you’re spending all your time with Lorcan now?” Aelin raises her eyebrows, knowing about Elide’s not so small crush on the stoic manager. “Long nights, just the two of you, arranging schedules in the soft romantic light of the Playland breakroom?”

Elide covers her face with her hand and screws her eyes shut. “Oh my god! No! No that is not what is happening at all.”

“Your mouth says no, but your blush says – ‘Yes, Lorcan, yes!’” Aelin teases, poking at Elide’s rosy cheeks. Elide slaps Aelin’s hands away.

“I just had three tequila shots, of course my cheeks are red.” Elide’s hands go to her cheeks, covering them as much as she can, trying to will away the warm flush creeping over her face. “You’re a monster, Aelin. That’s not what’s going on with Lorcan,” she hisses.

“What’s going on with me?” Lorcan asks, approaching from out of nowhere with a beer in his hand, and if possible Elide’s blush grows even deeper.

“Nothing!” Elide shouts, exasperated. “I’ll be right back. Be good, Aelin.” She throws Aelin a warning glare as she stalks off, and Lysandra and Aedion bite back their laughter as a bewildered Lorcan muses out loud—

“Did I say something?”

“No,” Aelin says, turning all her attention to Lorcan. “Elide was just saying how excited she is to work as a manager with you.”

Lorcan’s face lights up as he takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, she’s been a huge help so far. Especially with such a new staff this year.”

“Yeah… a lot of newbies this year.” Aelin pauses, wondering if she should probe Lorcan about Rowan. It wouldn’t do any harm, right? “Anyone giving you any trouble?”

“Nah,” Lorcan shakes his head and pushes a long piece of hair behind his hair. “But you know me. I like them to think they’re all giving me trouble, so they act accordingly.” He snorts, amused with his own management technique. “There’s one new guy who is so jumpy around me. I love it.”

“You’re evil,” Aelin laughs.

“I prefer diabolical,” Lorcan replies. “Ah, and it looks like he just arrived,” Lorcan continues with a grin. “Want me to introduce you, so you can see it up close?”

Lorcan points in the direction of the sliding doors that lead out to the patio, and there, in all his tall blonde and board-shorted glory stands Rowan. Finally. But Aelin’s heart drops. Because Rowan isn’t alone. He’s arrived with a girl.

~*~*~*~*~

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#aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes #aelin galythinius

[alexadru]

White Knight - Pay & Play to Win (Fate Grand Order edition)

Weiss had often wondered what made Ruby waste so much of her time on her scroll and when she had asked the question one day, her leader had simply shown her.

Fate Grand Order. 

That was the title of the mobile game Ruby was sinking at least a couple of hours a week. Time which she could have spent improving her grades and becoming a better leader. The young girl was the face of team RWBY, after all, and Weiss would not settle for less than the very best.

That said, she did not have any particular complaints about her progress over the months, but she disagreed with all the time she was wasting pointlessly on a silly game. 

A fact which she voiced without any restraint and which incurred another childish (in Weiss' opinion) argument between the two girls.

Ruby: "It's not childish! It's based on the greatest heroes from Earth's history, their stories and it has many life lessons. Plus, it's fun."

Weiss simply shook her head at the absurdity of her argument. She found it hard to believe that some fictional characters and their half thought out stories could ensnare people into playing that game for hours.

Ruby: "Why don't you give it a try first before you say it's childish? I bet you'll change your mind."

Another absurdity uttered by her partner, but, against her better judgement, Weiss, decided to give the game a try. If nothing else, but to prove Ruby wrong. 

After an entire week and a lot of wear to her scroll's battery, Weiss would have an epiphany and would, begrudgingly, agree with Ruby. This game was fun.

From the intriguing story, the likes of which Weiss had never seen or read to the beautiful art of the characters, the heiress could say she was hooked. She continued to play regularly, enjoying the experience as she continued to make progress through the story.

Weiss had not reached the point where she would spend money to get certain characters like she had heard from Ruby that some players did. That was until she saw him and she literally fell in love.

After spending a substantial portion of her allowance to get him when he was in the gacha, her joy could be heard across campus as she literally screamed like a fangirl when he answered her summons.

Her object of adoration? The servant Saber, King Arthur. He was everything she dreamed about. From his kind, loyal and slightly playful attitude to his charming, soft looks which made her blush every time he'd give a smile when she would level him up.

These were all traits that she had voiced quite often to her team, which was present in the room on the day the Weiss alarm rang for the first time. Weiss talked so casually about the game these days that it showed just how much she was sucked into this world.

One Saturday, as Weiss was farming like mad for materials to make her prince perfect, Ruby said something that changed her perception on life.

Ruby: "Hey, Weiss. Don't you think that Arthur is kind of like Jaune?" The girl commented as she busied herself leveling up a well known red Archer.

The innocent remark was met with the heiress looking up from the device abruptly, ready to refute the claim and defend the knight. However, Weiss stopped short to consider her words for a few moments. Moments which turned into seconds which then turned into minutes. Her eyes widened as if she reached a revelation. 

Ruby... was right! 

Abruptly, she jumped on her feet and walked out of the room with hurried steps. The rest of team RWBY heard her knock on JNPR's door. It opened moments later.

From the other side, Jaune had answered with a bit of apprehension. It wasn't often that someone would knock so loudly on his team's dorm room, except for Nora when she'd forget her scroll. What he didn't expect to see in front of his eyes was the familiar figure of his former(?) crush which he was trying to move on from with little success.

Jaune: "Weiss? Is everything alright…" The boy didn't get to finish as her hand grabbed his wrist, earning his full attention.

Weiss: "Come with me for a bit!" 

Unable to resist, he was dragged away by the small girl. Weiss had surprised him by how strong her grip was as she led him somewhere. The poor boy was caught so off guard, he couldn't do anything.

30 minutes later, Jaune found himself in the changing room of a store. It wasn't an ordinary store, however, but one that specialised in cosplay. Outfits belonging to famous fictional characters were sold here and for some reason, he found himself ready to change into one.

Of all the places in Vale, he did not expect the girl to bring him here. Nevermind the fact that she had given him an outfit and was told to try on, something from a game Ruby played if he remembered correctly. 

It was very unusual from the normally serious Weiss he knew. Still, he begrudgingly started undressing and putting on the outfit, having a new-found appreciation for the people who enjoyed cosplaying.

Weiss waited outside the changing room for 10 minutes, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. All ranging from curiosity about how Jaune would look to her slightly panicking that she acted so out of character and dragged him without giving a single explanation.

Looking at her feet she considered her thoughts about the boy and found that she didn't know how to feel about him. Given what occurred in the last few months, Weiss genuinely didn't know the nature of their relationship. She never thought of him much before and only recently started noticing him.

Her head snapped back up when she heard the door open.

Jaune had exited the changing room looking awkward. His steps were hesitant as if he didn't know how to walk properly in the extravagant armor. Oddly enough, despite having more layers on him, he felt a lot more exposed as if a lot more eyes were on him. Which could very well be the case, the store was huge and packed with other customers.

In his personal opinion, when Jaune checked himself in the mirror before exiting, he found that the look suited him. The blue went well with his eyes and while the silver armor was not that special, the gold accents brought everything together, matching his hair as a bonus. 

However, he looked nervously at the girl who had dragged him here. Jaune didn't know why, but he felt that she had done this for a reason and while she didn't share that reason, he hoped that he didn't disappoint her.

Weiss was quiet. Almost unusually so, despite her normally verbose self. She had seen the boy exit the changing room, donning the clothes she had picked for him and her mind came to a halt.

Baby blue eyes danced around, drinking in the sight of Jaune cosplaying the prince of her dreams. The boy who had both annoyed her the most and had been the kindest to her.

Weiss: "Jaune, would you smile for me, please?" She requested quitely.

Jaune: "What?" He didn't have a good feeling about the situation. Not with how quiet Weiss was being, her previous scrutinising gaze only adding to his nervousness.

Weiss: "Just… just give me your best charming smile."

And her weird requests kept coming. Jaune was smart enough to not question them, so he did as she requested. He tried to smile once, but it felt shaky, so he stopped, took a deep breath and tried again, his thoughts on how the beautiful girl in front of him made him feel before.

Weiss' breath hitched in her chest as she looked at him. It was impossible how well he fit the look. Everything from the blonde hair, his tall and lean physique to his boyish face was a near exact match to the Saber Servant. The only discrepancy was the eye color, deep blue instead of aqua. No less perfect in her vision.

Her face burned.

The old saying turned out to be true. The clothes did make the man and in this case, they made Jaune into her dream.

Jaune: "Weiss?" He stopped smiling and was a bit worried that she had yet to say anything. 

His words seemed to have been a wake up call as she acted almost immediately. Abruptly, her small hands pushed Jaune back until he was inside the changing room again. The surprise gesture made him trip and fall on his butt inside the small room.

Weiss had followed him inside with no hesitation. After closing the door, she wasted no time in straddling him by sitting in his lap and giving him a deep, hot kiss, catching him completely off guard.

They broke it off after nearly a minute. The two panted as they struggled to regain their breaths, Weiss managing to do so much quicker.

Jaune: "W-weiss? Why di…?" To say he was shocked was an understatement. This went beyond anything he expected to happen when she had dragged him with her.

Weiss: "Where have you been all my life?" Her purring voice nearly made him melt from all the affection it held.

Jaune: "I-I've literally been asking you out for weeks." Did she really not notice him all those times?

Weiss: "Nevermind that. What matters now is that we're here and we can do whatever we want." To prove her point, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward until her body was pressed completely against his, feeling everything. She pressed her forehead against his, the intense gaze in her eyes sent shivers down his spine.

Jaune: "I think I need an adult…" As freaked out as he was by her gesture, he could not deny the butterflies he felt in his stomach or how hot his cheeks felt. Weiss Schnee had kissed him and it made his heart start a marathon in his chest.

Weiss: "I'll make a King out of you." With a slow, sensual lick, she wet her lips and captured his again. This time, her fingers went through his hair as she got lost in the sensation. Weiss nearly moaned when she felt his hands on her slim waist, pulling her closer as he began reciprocating.

They continued like this until the staff found them and kicked them out for indecency. Weiss managed to somehow buy the outfit anyway, though. 

Now they simply walked around Vale with the heiress hugging his right arm to her body closely and leaning her head against it. The boy blushed all the way, but remained quiet. 

The day had only begun for them.

#rwby white knight #rwby weiss schnee x jaune arc #rwby weissgold #rwby weiss x jaune #rwby weiss schnee #rwby weiss #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #rwby jaune arc x weiss schnee #rwby jaune x weiss #jaune arc x weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #yellowsnow rwby #fate grand order #fate series #arthur pendragon fate #gacha hell #rwby

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Dinner for two

A Kristanna one shot fanfic

Rating: F/M

Relationship: Anna/Kristoff (canon verse)

Words counting: 2401

Summary: On the evening of the great thaw, Anna provides Kristoff with a gallant dinner at his new accommodation. This is about coming home and getting first steps into friendship. Some feelings... Because I can´t help it getting them together in an innocent way...

Hope you enjoy!!! :)

 So, the villain was thrown overboard and put to the castle jail for the time being.

 There had been great cheer and laughter once the party of three plus a reindeer and snowman riding between the animal´s antlers had got down from the boat to get into the harbour on a transport vessel.

 Then, everything happened in a rush over… The moment they descended the boat, people came running up greeting and questioning them with lot of excitement.

 Elsa first talked to Kai, then turned to Anna “I will have to talk to the ambassadors and guests of honour to explain. You will make sure to take a rest before tonight´s dinner, will you?”

 “But Elsa,” Anna intervened, “you need a rest, too.” Elsa waved off and explained, that she would rest later, for sure.

 “All right,” Anna smiled and then gasped, leaning closer to her sister, whispering, “I would like to take care, Kristoff and Sven get a suitable accommodation for the time being. But for that, I will need Gerda´s help. Is that okay with you?” Elsa nodded happily, that was a great idea. She then left towards the castle. The people would not come to close near her, after all she was the queen.

Anna turned to Kristoff, who stood surrounded by some customers from the marketplace. He got questioned on what had happened and he shrugged, not really knowing what to say.

 Anna wanted to step up, hooking herself into Kristoff´s arm kind of protecting him from the friendly attacks. But then a thought struck her mind ´you just kicked your false fiancé overboard and now you go for the next one? ´ She felt a bit forlorn and silly. But then, the ice harvester was her friend, was he not? He looked like he desperately needed some help, it was her turn now to step in for him. So, Anna came along and stood next to the man who had raced down the hills with her. “Ah, you must know, it is all rather complicated. We will explain in time, I promise. But will you please excuse us, we all need some rest.”

 The chatter ebbed and the people apologetically moved out of the way and smiling they went off.

 Kristoff sighed and glared at Anna “thank you. That was spooky.”

 “Ehem, nearly as scary as Marshmallow on the north-mountain…?” She giggled and then added quickly, “don´t worry, I will show you and Sven a safe place.”

****************

A bit later, Olaf sat on Anna´s bed and looked around in amazement. “Oh Anna, your home is so lovely. I like it.”

 “Glad you do,” Anna smiled at her little friend, “you are welcome to stay with me if you like.”

 “Oh, I don´t know. I promised Sven to come over for a visit.” Olaf mused. “Do you think, Kristoff will stay forever in the stables? Should he not rather be sleeping in a bed like other humans?”

 Anna glanced to the window, that gave free sight towards the old stable department and hoped deep inside he would feel comfortable right now.

 She had offered Kristoff a guest room within the castle. But he had been so reluctant, at the end he confessed he rather stay with Sven in the super nice stables, she had just shown to his best friend. Anna had understood that after all the excitement, the man appreciated the solitude with his companion. She than had promised him to come over later with some dinner.

 On Elsa´s request Kristoff had been invited to dine with them and the other guests. That was worse to him than her offer of the guest room in the first place. Anna had chuckled, nodding understanding, and had then excused him for the occasion.

 Now, she was about to get ready for the evening dinner. As much as she had ever wished to dine with her sister, to be surrounded with people for chatter and laughter, she now felt kind of uncertain of how to feel about all those people seeing her again. She still felt silly, childish of the late event. She had thrown herself at that betrayer´s neck practically publicly. Gossip would rise for sure… But then, she did not want to leave Elsa alone that first evening back at home.

 And then, Anna had mused if she should ask Kristoff why he had come back to Arendelle after all. Apparently, he had rushed to help her. Had Olaf been right, that he loved her? She decided to wait for a proper opportunity to talk to him. But not tonight. They all needed to settle in the first place, get a rest and especially no overthrown talking yet.

 Olaf liked what he saw.

 Anna had finished dressing. Her light green dress was simple cut, with some traditional embroidery in mix of dark green and black along the front buttons, that run the bodice. The skirt´s bottom seem was embroidered in the same style, just broader stitched. Her hair was combed in a bun, with two braids engulfing the round piece. A green sleeve was stuck decoratively in the right-side braid.   Together they went downstairs towards the great dining room. Olaf then left, to see Sven.

The dinner was a quite ongoing. Elsa sat at the head of the table; Anna was seated next to her at the top of the right length side. It was all so overwhelming to Anna, although she was exhausted from all the happenings of late. She would enjoy so much sitting next to her sister daily from now on.

 Next to Anna sat Lord Dubois of Bourgogne. He was kind, with a fatherly way of conversation. Lord Dubois had offered to take Prince Hans back to the Southern-Islands, as they lay on his way back home. Elsa and Anna had thanked him for taking care of that misfortunate topic.

 Before desert was served, Anna leaned in a bit closer to Elsa with a questioning look. Elsa looked puzzled, then understood. She smiled and nodded with her head for Anna to leave.

 Anna quietly said goodbye to her table neighbour and got up. She nodded in the round and then left silently.

 Once out of the dining hall, she hurried up towards the kitchen. It was not uncommon for her to show up there. Olina, the cook, had been informed before by Gerda, of the princesses´

request for the night. So, when Anna stood in the door, two baskets with food, dishes, and cutlery service were already packed and ready for her to pick up. Nobody would say a word or question her doing for tonight.

***********************

Kristoff was laying cosily against Sven´s body. The animal had dozed off, after he had been offered a giant bucket of carrots that was delivered by a stable boy. Apparently ordered by the princess personally. The haystack in the corner had been multiplied as well and the water barrel freshly refilled. It was a nice place, dry, warm, and clean. What more could he ask for?

 At this very moment, a kicking noise against the door startled him from his musing. Then a soft nock, the door opened slightly, and an auburn head peeped through, grinning “hello, disturbing?”

 Kristoff pushed up from his position, unwillingly nudging Sven with his elbow. The reindeer startled up from the ground so fast that Kristoff nearly tipped over backward. Regaining his composure just as fast, he easily cleared his throat, “no, all fine. Please come in.”

 Sven had already skipped over to Anna and pranced around, showing his happiness seeing her.

 “I must say,” Anna chuckled, stroking Sven´s chin, “this is certainly a far more natural greeting than over there.” She nodded her head towards the castle.

 “Why am I glad to have stayed out of that…?” Kristoff remarked with a grin and stepped closer to give Anna a hand with her bringing in the baskets. “Have you kicked the door just before?” he asked. “Yes, I thought it was loose and I could just push it with my foot. But it didn´t move so I still had to free a hand.” Anna shrugged and then explained, “oh yes, that´s your dinner. I hope you like it. I guess the cook has put in enough, hopefully.”

 Kristoff stared at the baskets in front of his feet and asked, “but you got something to eat already, did you? Who do you think should eat that all up?”

 “I thought you must be starving by now, so I wanted to make sure you get the best share of it!”

 “Thank you,” Kristoff meant it because his stomach did rumble since a while, “that´s very considerate. Must you go back immediately, or can I offer the princess a … seat in the strow?” He gestured with a generous move towards the stables, where Sven had laid himself back down in the corner.

 Anna grinned and then laughed, feeling so comfortable and honestly welcomed. “Oh yes, that would round up the evening just perfectly, thank you!” She followed Kristoff´s gesture and went over to the strow and plopped herself down into the golden bed. She patted Sven´s neck behind her, adjusted her skirts shifting around and then sat straight, ready to be a good company.

 “Where is Olaf,” Anna looked around wondering where the little fellow had gone. “Oh, he went back to your room. He said that he had never seen a bed so comfy in his entire life and couldn´t wait to go get a good sleep. Honestly, how long has he actually lived?” Kristoff chuckled and grabbed the baskets, then placed himself opposite from Anna.

 “True,” Anna sighed, “but I´m so happy we have him here.” Kristoff nodded, reassuring gently, “yes, he is unique.”

 Going through the immense food offer before him he whistled, glaring at Anna in amazement. “Okay, that´s provision for a week. How long do you want to jail me up in here?”

 Anna stared shocked. He felt imprisoned. No, that´s not what she had meant it to be… Panic rose within her and tears shot to her eyes.

 Kristoff noticed her face going white and eyes filling with tears. Oh no, what had he said? “Anna are you, all right? What is it?”

 “Is it so terrible for you to be here in town, at the castle´s environment?” She whispered, facing down, and fiddling with the fabric of the skirt with her fingers.

 Kristoff´s heart skipped for a moment. She worried for his well-being and thought he didn´t like it here… How fond he was of her. She was so honest, so selfless. “No, Anna. I´m grateful to be here. That you let me stay in here with Sven and don´t rush me to sleep in a room I could not identify with right now. I was kidding about being jailed up, okay?” He tilted his head to get a glance at her face.

 Anna looked up slowly when he was about to speak. She smiled uncertain of how to respond and then smiled at him, “you´re welcome. This place is yours for as long as you like.”

 Kristoff sighed relieved to have her smiling again, “thanks. Sounds great to me. Besides, I could not go anywhere far for the time being. I will have to reorganise my stuff.”

 Anna gasped, put a finger up as to mark the importance, “about that! Thanks for the reminder. Don´t worry, it´s all organised. Kai will take care of that. But we need an exact and clearly detailed list of all your belongings and supplies, that go along with the sled.” She started fiddling around in one of the baskets and pulled out a bundle of papers and pencil. “There, will you please set the list till tomorrow morning? That´d be great!” Anna beamed and laid the paper and pen next to Kristoff on the floor.

 The man looked back and forth from her to the paper. “Are you serious?” he gasped. “You shouldn´t…”

 “I promised you, forgotten? I would have totally understood if you had just walked off. But to be honest, I was so glad and thankful for your coming along. What would I have done without you?” Again, Anna´s eyes got moisty, but she composed herself, clearing her throat, adding conspiratorially “but still I understand it was Sven´s idea, right?” She winked and then put a sheepish smile, pulling up her shoulders giggling.

 “Yes, absolutely, it was!” Kristoff laughed and waved a hand in defence.

 “But now,” Anna nodded seriously to the baskets, “you should really do yourself some good and start eating, please.”

 Kristoff had insisted she should have a little share, otherwise he´d feel foolish eating all alone. As she hadn´t had any desert yet, Anna gladly granted his wish and helped herself with some nuts and another glass of wine. Then she checked the sweets basket and cried out joyfully discovering some chocolate cake.

 Kristoff tried not to stuff impolitely, but the diverse ingredients were delicious and so multiplied he could hardly decide where to start and how much he should enjoy. As he hadn´t eaten a lot the last days in the first place, he felt full very soon.

 He rubbed his stomach and sighed contentedly. “Thank you so much. I think I have not eaten so well, since… I even can´t remember haven eaten so well ever before.”

 “Don´t tell me you would not enjoy a vast food feast at your family´s place?” Anna laughed, but then gasped and stared at Kristoff.

 He had not noticed still caressing his belly. “No, that´s all wonderful. Berries, mushrooms, and sorts, you know. But I still indulge from that delicacy you know.”

 “Kristoff. Your family.” Anna put her hands to her chest, “don´t they need to know that we´re all fine and things have turned out to the best?”

 Now Kristoff looked at her, grinning, “I think, they already know… But if you like, I will take you up there again as soon as I can. So, you will tell them personally okay? But no, maybe that´s a bad idea. I mean, they will surely love to see you again… Only, you never know what they are up to the next time you meet them… you know?” He looked kind of apologetical and then uncertain not to scare her off.

 Anna smiled, shrugging she mused, “well, what if we just roll with it….?”

#kristanna because the are adorable #first steps into friendship #love

[plus-size-reader]

Poor Baby

Billy Hargrove x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1,522 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Billy’s girlfriend gets really jealous, especially when it comes to Karen.

———————————————————————————————————

You had always been jealous, so it shouldn't have surprised to him that you were slowly but surely developing an irrational hatred of Karen Wheeler.

However, that fact seemed to slip his mind completely, because you had only ever been jealous of girls your own age before.

Never had you shown a problem with cougars staring at him as he walked hand and hand with you down the street. Besides, what was the harm in having a little fun at the pool as long as he never screwed any of them?

It wasn't like he'd ever actually cheat on you. He knew better than that, he just liked the attention was all.

As if he would ever actually be interested in one of them.

To you though, it didn't matter  how many times he assured you that what he had going on at the pool was nothing but harmless fun, it still made your blood boil.

You could have killed him as you watched from where you were under the pool umbrella. He was clearly enjoying whatever conversation he was having, he was very clearly leaning into her.

Not to mention the laughter that left her lips each time he spoke.

You had seen other girls flirt with Billy of course, but not for quite some time. Where you'd lived in California, they all knew better.

The last girl who'd asked for Billy's number at a party got her car windows busted out. The cops never really figured out who did it, but everyone who'd been at the party knew.

However, Hawkins was a new place entirely and no one had put these girls in their place yet.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to calm that anger welling up in the pit of your stomach before you spoke. "Billy!?" you called, interrupting whatever it was he thought he was doing over there.

He turned to you as soon as he heard your voice but said nothing, only arching his brow as if to ask you what you needed.

"I need more lemonade" You called, shaking the glass which at this point was nothing more than an umbrella and some slowly melting ice.

Billy looked at you for a second, trying to figure out if you were serious or not. You very clearly could have gotten your own drink, but he didn't want to push it. If you wanted him to get you a drink, he would get you one.

"Excuse me Karen" he hummed, winking at her before turning toward you. It didn't take him long at all to get from one side of the pool to the other but the whole time, you had your eyes on him.

Your stare was intent and angry, but he had no idea why. He had only been making conversation.

"Problem, your highness?" he teased, taking the glass from you. Before you could answer though, he had already headed in the direction of the concession stand, which only served to make you angrier.

Your rolled your eyes before standing to follow him.

He knew you would. In fact, the sound of your bare feet hitting the concrete aggressively only brought a smile to his face.

By this point, he'd managed to put the pieces together. He'd seen you jealous enough times to recognize the signs and you'd hit all of his boxes just now.

You drew his attention away from her, and made him do something for you. There was also that stare, burning into his skull as he spoke to her, he'd know that look anywhere. Not to mention the fact that you were now chasing him down...

He was going to get an ear full but he wasn't upset about it. Billy liked playing this game with you.

Without missing a beat, he entered the staff door to the concession stand, even going to far to let the door shut before you could slip in behind him.

He happened to know that it was unlocked from the inside but even if it hadn't been, there was no doubt in his mind that you would have found another way in.

"Hargrove? What do you think you're doing?" you whisper yelled, slamming the open door to the concession store shut behind you.

You looked so angry. Your chest was heaving up and down with your erratic breathing pattern and you were fidgeting, something you only did when you were trying not to yell.

It was so goddamn sexy when you got like this.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" he lied, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, holding it between his teeth. He was clearly trying not to laugh at the whole situation.

If he had, it would only make it worse.

You sighed, unsure if he was being serious or not. There was no way he didn't know what an ass he was being right now, was there?

"Right, well maybe I should go ask all those ancient skanks then huh?" you bit, folding your arms across your chest. The action pushed your breasts together more, drawing his attention downward for a moment.

There it was.

He was right.

"Oh, poor baby...are you jealous?" he teased, laughing at you as he filled your glass from the lemonade pitcher.

Was Billy really making fun of you?

Seriously?

“You are such an asshole” you barked, not believing that he would act like this when he was clearly in the wrong. You had been more than patient, letting the conversation go on and on but at a certain point, even he had to know that he was being ridiculous.

He wasn’t doing it to torment you however, it just amused him that you were so worked up over something that he saw as so small and insignificant.

To him, it was no big deal at all.

Billy had no intention of sleeping with Karen or any of the other moms, so it amused him that you cared so much.

He just didn’t get why it bothered you.

For him, you were the only woman that he wanted. The rest was nothing more than a game.

“Maybe, but you love me” he grinned, leaning down to try and get a kiss, though you turned your head away from him. It might have been true, but that didn’t mean you were any less angry about it.

It was going to take quite a while before Billy was out of the dog house.

However, he knew just how to make it up to you.

It was something so silly that you often tried to convince him to let you do but up until now, he wouldn’t let you.

You liked the idea of marking him as your own, you had seen it a million times before in movies and books but Billy had always said no.

It was all about lipstick.

You had seen it once in a white snake video and from that moment on, you were obsessed. You loved the idea of leaving lipstick kisses all over him, especially at the pool so that everyone could see that you’d claimed him...

All out in the open.

But, right about now, it didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

If nothing else, it would make you feel better about his faithfulness toward you. There was nothing better than letting all those old birds know that Billy had already been claimed.

“Hold on sugar, I have the perfect way to make it up to you” he purred, reaching into your cross-body bag, that was across your chest. He rummaged around for a few moments before finding exactly what he was looking for.

Your favorite tube of red lipstick.

Perfect.

“Here you go, baby” he smiled, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he screwed the top off and started painting the ruby red color across your lips.

It was oh so pretty and as tempted as he was to mess up his near-perfect application, that wasn’t the purpose right now.

You looked shocked for a second, just thinking that he was finished off your look or trying to distract you from how angry you were but it wasn’t until he gestured down to his perfectly toned torso that you put two and two together.

...And you were so excited about it.

“Go to town sugar” he allowed, watching you bend down to press a single kiss to his right clavicle bone, leaving a perfect lip print in its place. It was pretty, and before long, his tanned skin was perfectly decorated in marks from you.

You were pretty proud of your work, and by the time that you were done, you could hardly remember the fight you’d been in the middle of previously.

In fact, it wasn’t until you and Billy walked back over to his lifeguards post that you remembered.

Across the pool were four very jealous, red in the face, mothers who couldn’t take their eyes off the very obvious message that was meant only for them. Billy had already been claimed and you were determined to make sure that everyone knew it.

#Billy Hargrove #stranger things #ST #billy hargrove x plus size reader #billy hargrove x ps reader #stranger things 3 #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 3 #stranger things x plus size reader #st x reader #st x ps reader #st x plus size reader