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bidisastersanji · 6 months

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Was thinking about French gendered terms and Zoro trying to suss out if Sanji’s into men and I had some thoughts and oops now i wrote a thing so here you go:

In the early days Zoro drives himself nuts trying to figure out if Sanji bats for his team too or not. He listens in intently whenever the conversation steers the cook towards talk of his past dalliances, but, just his luck, none of the words used indicate their gender. And there ain’t no fucking way in hell he’s asking him or anyone on the crew directly, lest they immediately understand how bad he has it for the stupid cook.

He bides his time, surely someday he’ll slip up and mention something about the people he’s slept with, right? And sure enough one day, at a feast, a drunken Usopp starts asking what people’s types are. His face still schooled into a nonchalant, neutral expression, he does his best to hide how desperately he waits for Sanji to speak up about his type, only to once again be met with more general terms about people- someone with a kind heart, dependable, an equal… he’s so concentrated on trying to pick out any gendered terms he doesn’t notice the weird look Nami throws his way at each new descriptor in Sanji’s list of desirable traits.

He’s always known Sanji speaks French, finding it endearing whenever the cook curses (even at him), whenever he goes into small little rants to himself, or the face he makes when he can only think of a word in French, rapidly snapping his fingers until it comes back to him. But it’s only when they get to a town where Sanji starts speaking to a vendor excitedly about his produce that he realizes just how much this thing, this endearing thing that’s always been there, truly affects him, and his face burns at how different the cook’s voice sounds when he actually speaks it, how enchantingly low and throaty the foreign syllables ring in his ears.

Attached to living another day, he decides that stealing a book from Robin is a bad idea, and resigns himself to ask her directly for a favour. He swallows his pride and asks if she can lend him a French learning book and a dictionary, curious as to whether he can learn it a bit, and understand whatever the hell Sanji keeps cursing and muttering about around him, and what kinds of insults he’s been throwing his way. With her ever mysterious smile plastered on her face, a chain of Robin’s arms retrieve two books from her library and hand them to him. “Do come to me if you have any questions, Mr. Swordsman. My French is pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He’s out of the room, red as a beet, before she even finishes that sentence.

Learning the curse words comes to him unsurprisingly quickly given how often he hears a litany of « putain de merde », « fait chier! » and « enfoiré! » spilling from the blonde’s distracting mouth.

He’s very happily surprised when he learns that French is apparently a heavily gendered language- and that he can glean someone’s gender just from whether the adjectives applied to the subject are masculine or feminine. Now if the stars aligned and the cook would talk about his love life in French…

Zoro starts by going through the basic first chapters, taking great pains to hide and quickly dissimulate it in his haramaki anytime someone walks in on him- especially the witch. It definitely changes his usual routine on his watch in the crows nest, he muses to himself.

Weeks, months pass, and he advances further in the lessons, his vocabulary slowly growing, while he often goes to his dictionary for the more… colorful insults Sanji throws his way. He never says a word of French himself, not knowing how he could even justify knowing any without looking suspicious, and pretty sure his pronunciation would be way off anyways. But he starts to really enjoy it, being able to understand even a tenth of the things Sanji thinks he can say without the crew (save Robin) understanding.

And then Saobaody happens. And now he doesn't have time to think about learning French, not if he wants to get strong enough. Not if he wants to protect his crew.

He's at the table with Mihawk and Perona when his mentor asks for the salt (Passez moi le sel, s'il vous plait), and he executes himself without thinking. A quiet settles over the room and he looks up to see those intense red eyes boring into him, unnerving as ever.

"You speak French?"

"Not really," he grumbles, not wanting more excuses to think of the shitty cook, and his shitty cooking, and his stupid curly brow.

"Then you will. Consider this a natural continuation of my trying to beat some manners into your brutish mind."

Two years later, and he can't wait for dartbrow to show up. His pronunciation may still be shit, but he can't wait to use his newfound skill to his advantage.

With his now solidified grasp of the language, he slowly begins to understand that what he at first though was a mistake on his part- that he must’ve missed a part of a sentence, or mixed up some words- was not an error at all. It turns out, some of the French things that Sanji yells at him aren’t insults at all.

In fact… they’re sometimes downright complimentary.

And that's definitely a problem for Zoro, who now not only needs to keep pretending that he doesn’t know what Sanji is saying, but needs to pretend he doesn’t understand it when Sanji screams at him that he has a “stupidly pretty face” or that his “tits are even bigger than Nami’s and how is that even fair” . He doesn't know what to make of it.

And then one day… the stars align.

It’s another post battle party, and the cook has been drinking a bit more than usual, a tightly gripped glass of wine in his left hand, a cigarette in his right. Zoro is nursing his very own barrel of Ale when he hears the conversation turn to more gossipy topics, as it usually does the further into the night they are.

“Chopper was really into that nurse on Zou, wasn’t he?” Usopp starts to poke fun at the crew’s youngest member, laughing as the reindeer turns all red and tries to deny it.

“I mean it makes sense that she’d be his type! Right Nami?”

Nami nods at him, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, not all of us can be into rich little blonde girls can we?”

“You’re right, some of us are into rich blue-haired princesses,” he shoots back.

"At least I had the balls to do something about it before I left her island-"

Zoro is already tuning them out when Sanji sits down next to Robin just a few feet away, across from him and the campfire, his tongue loosened from a few too many refills and unconsciously reverting to his native tongue.

"Ils ont de la chance, ces deux là." he gestures to Usopp and Nami. (They're lucky, these two.)

Robin smiles at the cook, wordlessly prompting him to continue his thoughts.

"Qu'est ce que je donnerais pour pouvoir avoir quelque chose de plus qu'un coup d'un soir." Sanji sighs wistfully, lighting his cigarette. (What I wouldn't give to have something more than a one night stand.")

Robin chuckles. "Ne sont-ils pas satisfaisants?" (Are they not satisfying?)

At this point Zoro has tuned everything out, intensely focused on hearing what the blonde has to say, and not at all feeling a small churn of jealousy in his stomach for whoever shared Sanji's bed. His heart initially skips a beat at the plural masculine pronoun ('ils') used by Robin before remembering its actual neutrality in this context, as it's referring to the ""one night stands", a masculine word. Damnit. French is so dumb.

"Tu sais bien que je ne dirais jamais de mal à propos des belles demoiselles qui ont bien voulu m'accorder ne serait-ce qu'un baiser ou une étreinte. J'ai de la chance rien que d'avoir pu exister en leur présence."

(You very well know I'd never say a bad word about any of the beautiful ladies who've been kind enough to give me even a kiss or an embrace. I'm lucky just to have existed in their presence.)

Zoro feels his heart drop, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He's always known the pervert cook has been into women. Why was this confirmation hitting him the way it was? His eye darts up at his two crewmates, confirming that only Robin has noticed his eavesdropping. She opens her mouth to say something but Sanji continues, the glow of the flames dancing against his flushed skin beautifully.

"Et dans mon état normal tu sais que, par respect pour les sensibilités d'une dame, je ne te divulge pas beaucoup de détails sur ceux qui font l'affaire le temps d'une nuit. "

(And in my normal state you know that, out of respect for a lady's sensibilities, I don't divulge many details about those who do the trick for a night.)

Ceux. That's a masculine word for "those", isn't it? Zoro shakily takes another sip of his drink.

The archeologist's smile widens. "Oh, ne te fait pas de soucis pour mes sensibilités. Je brûle d'envie d'en savoir plus, et ne m'épargne pas les détails..."

(Oh, please don't worry about my sensibilities. I'm burning to know more, and don't spare me the details...)

"Je ne suis que ton humble serviteur...si ça peut te faire plaisir" (I'm but your humble servant…if it pleases you). Sanji's cheeks seem a tad more flushed than before. "En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants...c'est qu'il ne sont jamais... assez."

(It's not that they're not satisfying…it's that they're never...enough.)

"Ah? Et que recherches tu? Qu'est ce qui serait..."assez"?"

(Ah? And what are you looking for? What would be… "enough"?)

The cook exhales another cloud of smoke, and nervously looks around. His eyes settle on Zoro, and indecision flits across his eyes for a second before continuing. Zoro can feel his gaze, can almost make out the deliciously unfocused expression on the blonde's face in his peripheral vision as he continues speaking French. His heart feels like it might beat out of his ribcage.

"Lui." (Him.)

Zoro forgets how to breathe.

Part 2 up now , and part 3 part 4

#zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic #this was SUPPOSED TO BE A LITTLE TEXT POST #and then #AND THEN THIS HAPPENED #should I continue this #let me know in the tags #sanji x zoro #i can say french is dumb because i am #i have so many more thoughts about french speaking sanji #share yours with me pleaaaseee #zoro learns French #zoro learns french fic

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 7 months

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One of Us is Guilty; Prologue

Eight people, nine rooms, seven weapons. One person is guilty, and until they are found, no one is safe; from the perpetrator of the crime, or of being accused.

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Divus Crewel, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengroto, Silver, Jade Leech, Cater Diamond

Content; Gender-neutral reader, unreliable narrators

Content Warning; Death (not described), murder (not described)

Word Count; 1.3 K (includes guide on how to participate at the end)

Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Go to this Google Form! <- form is now closed, thank you to the people who voted!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were making your way down the main flight of stairs, ready to go crawl into your bed after the long day.

“Attention! Attention!” Crowley’s voice echoed over the PA system, still annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. What was he even still doing here? “Due to the weather, all remaining staff and students are under orders to stay inside the building until morning!” And the PA system cut out.

You groaned, “Seriously? It can’t be that bad–” A loud crack of thunder sounded directly above the building, causing the chandelier to shake. “Okay then,” you huffed, plopping down on the stairs, “I get the message.”

Of course, you would get stuck here for the night, guess that’s what happens when you stay back to study and work on assignments.

But you weren’t the only person stuck in the desolate halls of Night Raven College; seven others were in the same boat as you.

…

Vil was in the lecture theatre, reviewing his notes for the upcoming performance that the Film Research Club would be putting on next week. He too heard Crowley’s announcement and pushed his hair back, massaging his temple. He would not be getting a good night’s rest tonight.

“Tch, no use lamenting over it,” he sighed to himself. Carefully, he put the notes and suggestions away in their designated folder, and he made his way to the main hall. If anyone was still here with him, they might be there; at least he would have some company for the night, and not be alone in the empty hallways.

…

Professor Crewel was grading papers in the teacher’s lounge, and getting a migraine from it as well. “Have those pups learned nothing from me,” he grumbled.

He would much rather be at home in his finest pyjamas, scratching the chins of his dogs, but no, he was stuck here, and would be stuck until the storm passed or Headmaster Crowley got back on the PA system saying it was safe to leave. But knowing his employer, the man had transported himself home, leaving everyone stuck at the college oblivious.

I ought to wring his neck if he did.

…

Rook was in the library, perusing through various books, just looking for something to pass the time. He knew earlier that day that a storm was brewing, he could tell by the clouds and the faint smell wafting on the breeze. He also knew that Vil would be staying late, and he wasn’t going to leave Roi de Poison alone.

After going down a few aisles, Rook finally found a book to his liking. “Hmm, this is new. Ah, how interesting!” Tucking the book under his arm, Rook made his way to the lecture theatre, as that was where he had last seen Vil.

Perhaps un meurtre mystère would make for a good plot for a future performance?

…

Silver had fallen asleep in the cafeteria, apparently he had slept for most of the day. He had only woken up because of Crowley’s voice echoing loudly in the large, empty room.

Did they not notice? Silver rubbed his eyes and yawned. If he was here, there was a possibility of others also finding themselves stuck in the school for the night. The least he could do was make sure others were staying calm, and staying safe. Even outside of his duties he was ever still the protector, and far too kind.

“Hopefully no one got hurt…” he murmured to himself. There was something off, a dark presence of sorts, and it wasn’t just the dark clouds hurling down rain, hail, and lightning outside.

Something doesn’t feel right…

…

Azul was in the alchemy lab, perfecting the most complicated potion that was in his textbook; he had a reputation to upkeep after all, and didn’t want anyone usurping his rank at the top of the class.

There, I just need to add some belladonna and— the suddenness of Crowley’s overly loud voice coming over the PA system caused Azul to add too much, and the potion evaporated. Azul gritted his teeth, but took a step back. Perhaps a walk would help calm him down… he was going to have to replace all of those ingredients tomorrow…

“So close,” he hissed, and he started making his way down the hall, still muttering to himself.

…

Jade was washing the dirt from his hands, having just come back from checking on his fungi in the botanical gardens. He already knew before Crowley made his little announcement that he would be spending the night, which didn’t bother him all that much. Perhaps he could see what was in the kitchen, since he did have that new dish which looked and sounded to be divine.

But that could wait, Azul was most likely still working on that potion of his, and knowing the house warden, he had fumbled with the ingredients at the sudden noise and probably sulking… and Jade could use some amusement at the moment, and a sulking and slightly peeved Azul would do the trick.

…

Cater was in the kitchen, retrieving something for Trey since they were all out in the Heartslabyul kitchen. Of course it was something sweet, but Cater would rather be here than see the outcome of the freshmans’ antics. Sorry freshies, you’re on your own!

But now he was stuck here for the night, and having nothing better to do, and boredom starting to creep in, Cater brought out his phone and started recording.

“It’s Cay-kun here!~” He gave a peace sign to the camera and stuck out his tongue. “Let’s see who we can find!” And he started chatting to the camera and walking towards the main hall.

…

Eventually, everyone had made their way to the main hall; you, Silver, Vil, Professor Crewel, Rook, Azul, Jade, and Cater. But there was no sign of Headmaster Crowley.

“Have any of you pups seen the Headmaster,” Divus asked, turning up a brow, and looked at his students with suspicion.

Everyone shook their head no. Divus sighed, and turned around the corner, in the direction of the Headmaster’s office, but he stopped in his tracks.

Curious, you looked to where Professor Crewel was staring; lying in the middle of the floor was Crowley, and he wasn’t breathing.

Dire Crowley was dead, murdered. And everyone was a suspect, including you.

About this Event

That's right folks, a classic murder mystery in the style of the board game Clue and some inspiration from the book And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

At the beginning and end of each part, I will be including a link to a Google Form where people can vote for who they think is the murderer, what room the murder took place in, and the weapon that was used. There's also an optional question where you can explain your answer, just do know that everything was randomly chosen by a spinner.

The form will be active for at least 72 hours; it may go on for longer if I'm busy. A new form will be added with each part, just with the suspect, room, & weapon that was voted in the last part being removed if they were incorrect... and may take some inspo from the book I mentioned.~

In future parts there will be dark content, as this is a murder mystery; all of the content warnings will be included at the beginning, and also tagged (ie. cw death). Because of this, I will not be tagging people in future parts just as a precaution.

Now, let the investigation begin!

Link to Google Form

Suspects:

- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show? (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley's co-worker (Peacock) - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what's happening (Mustard) - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the 'house-keeper', a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach)

Rooms:

- Main hall - Teachers' lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab - Library - Crowley's office

Weapons:

- Revolver - Rope - Dagger - Wrench - Candlestick - Lead pipe - Magic

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @aqua-beam, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @hisui-dreamer, @hydra-sea, @identity-theft-101, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @leonistic, @lucid-stories, @officialdaydreamer00, @ryker-writes, @savanaclaw1996, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

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sankttealeaf · 7 months

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First of all happy birthday!!!!

Second of all omg I love your writing, and the prompts you just shared.?? Could I request gn Tav and Astarion for the:

⋆ "i'd still know you." Bonus points if it is not ascended Astarion saying this to Tav 👀

Thank you in advance if you choose to write this and have a great birthday!! ❤️

thank you!!! ended up thinking too much about astarion "ah yes i will manipulate tav into doing what i want - oh no i think am in love" baldur'sgate3 too much while writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!<3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"i'd still know you" [prompt list <- send me another!] [ao3]

pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader

summary ; Astarion's plan is fool-proof until you come along and start to break it down brick by brick.

other info ; may have gone a little wild with this. a deeper look into astarion and tav's relationship throughout the game and how easily astarion's walls were broken down by them. mainly astarion pov but kind of jumps between tav + astarion thoughts

warnings ; manipulation, astarion backstory, implied sexual content but nothing explicitly mentioned, things get resolved in the end

word count ; 3.2k

“I don't need to know where we begin and end, I'd still know you”

De Selby (Part 2) - Hozier

When he first meets you, Astarion thinks you are a fool.

He despises the way you offer to help anyone in need, no questions asked. It’s even worse when you deny any form of payment for it. He cannot help but allow the frustration to take over each time you get side-tracked. Why now must he meet someone with so much goodness in their heart after he spent centuries suffering? Why must you be so kind?

Your kindness consumes him as he spends his days trying to figure out ways to use it against you. He’ll need help with his own personal goals and it would be oh so easy to exploit how eager you were to help others. He buries you with pretty words and sultry looks and can feel you falling for his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

You begin to seek him out each morning and night, asking for his opinions on things and listening to everything he has to say. He finds it amusing each time you walk up to him with a list of things to talk about. You even start to offer your own blood to him after the rather unfortunate incident of catching him trying to feed on you. Really, this was too easy.

Laying with you after the party with the tieflings is only to cement the snare he places around you. It was hunting season and you were the poor deer that fell into his trap. A shame, but it mattered not to him. He gets what he wants and you get to feel useful helping someone. It doesn’t matter what emotions he has to exploit along the way. Each time he feels himself grow distant during the entanglement you brought him back, fingers tracing his skin and pulling him closer. When you feel the harsh lines of his scar and a frown appears on your face, he distracts you with a kiss, any questions melting away in your mind instantly.

A fool-proof plan, and Astarion is executing it perfectly so far.

As time passes on he starts to find himself waiting for you to approach him in the evenings. He pretends to not care but every time he hears you approach he feels anxiety gnawing in his stomach and if his heart could beat he was certain it would be pounding. He’s managed to memorise the sound of your footfalls whenever you get near his tent, a small thing he assumes is just another step in his plan. That’s what everything was, another box to tick, another thing to cross off. He was remembering things about you to use against you - no other reason.

Recently you have been giving him books you pick up along your travels, claiming you had heard him talking about the lack of “good reading material” to Gale one morning. He stacks each one neatly in his tent, keeping them to himself and refusing to share. You got them for him, after all. He searches his brain for days on ways to repay you for the ever-growing library in his tent and has to stop himself because that is not part of his plan. He isn’t supposed to want to thank you. It’s like you entered his well-defended home and started to disarm all the traps aimed at you. You broke down the walls with such care, placing the bricks to the side to rebuild into something else. He can’t stop you from doing so, no matter how hard he tries.

With each kind gesture he notices more about you. The way you laugh loudly at camp with the others or how you make each person you speak to feel like they are the most important person in the world. He yearns to speak to you, to get his share of loot or hear a funny story from your day. He wants you around him and it confuses him. Your kindness is infectious and Astarion begins to feel like a fever is brewing inside him. He needs to sweat it out yet the only thing he finds craving for is you. Always you.

Why must it be you?

He hears you approach before he looks up from his book, already throwing a suggestive comment your way to see your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around nervously. You ask if he’s doing alright and Astarion decides that this is the perfect time to be vulnerable with you. He wants to know if his plan was working, if you truly would do anything for him. You listen carefully with bated breath as he lays out his backstory to you, how he wants revenge on his master for all the years of torture and torment he was put through. Even though he had been hoping for it, he’s still shocked when you tell him you will help him get his vengeance in any way possible.

Of course you would help him. He has been betting on your kindness all this time, it’s why he chose you to begin with. Yet as you walk away he cannot help but feel seen for the first time in years. You want to help him. You are willing to put your life on the line to help him. He swallows down a bubble of guilt and ignores how sick he is feeling. Any more of this and he was certain he would perish.

For the next few days you talk to him first. Every morning and every evening you would check in and at first he waits for you to take back your offer to kill Cazador with him, but you never do. The only time he spots that you have doubts is when he mentions how he should be the one to ascend, not his master. He should have the power, right? It’s only fair after all. When you tell him that you didn't think that was a good idea, he’s caught off guard. Power is what he always wanted and you are refusing to help him? The conversation ends with a bitter taste in his mouth and you walking away from him. He wants to reach out for you but he can’t.

It’s fine, he tells himself. With enough convincing, you will support his need for ascension. You had to. He wants you by his side, after all.

There’s a lack of conversations with you going forward from that point, the whole talk of becoming a powerful vampire lord being something you weren’t entirely wanting to help Astarion go through with. You mention how he’s just continuing the cycle of abuse, that he’ll be as trapped as Cazador is, but you aren’t sure if Astarion is even listening to you. So, you decided it was best to give him space and let him come to that conclusion by himself. And if he doesn’t? Well, you suppose there will be two vampires you’ll have to kill in the future.

Even if you aren’t talking, you still look out for him when you find yourself in combat. A gentle touch of his arm as you move around him to flank an enemy, throwing your last potion of healing his way, finding high ground for him to run to for a better advantage. You seek him out at the end of the fight to check he wasn’t too badly injured and he notices you only give cursory glances at the others. When you’re happy he isn’t too hurt, you give a gentle squeeze of his arm before going to rummage through the dead bodies for loot. The warmth from your hand lingers on his arm long after you are gone and he finds himself holding the area, watching as you call over Lae’zel to show her some new weapons that could be of use. Still, after killing enemies, you treat everyone with kindness.

The walls around him are fully gone now and he can’t help but wait for you to come back to him again. Perhaps the traps in his metaphorical house aren’t there to keep anyone out, but to keep him in.

You begin to talk to him again, dancing around the topic of Cazador and his plans for taking his master’s place like a deadly waltz. The closer you get to Baldur’s Gate the more Astarion’s plans weigh heavily in the air. Your uncertainty that it is the best option begins to rub off on him and one night he finds himself doubting that this is really what he wants. Of course it was, he wants the power and the control. But that meant losing you - you made your stance clear one day as you travelled, catching him in conversation to tell him you would not be by his side if he chose to complete the ritual himself. You walked away before he could question you further.

Your opinion is ruining him. It’s wrecking everything in his mind and leaving him stranded on an island he isn’t sure he wants to be on anymore. His plan made sense when he could picture you by his side, probably not as an equal - he didn't want to worry about another vampire fighting for his rule over the city, after all, but maybe as a loyal spawn. You are already so loyal to everyone, it would be like nothing changed! But everything will change. You are in his head. He wishes he had never picked you to be the target of this plan. How could he be so foolish? Of course your kindness wouldn't allow him to grow in power. You are too, too kind.

Astarion thinks himself a fool.

Defeating Cazador is a brutal task that he has only ever dreamed of seeing to completion. He stands at a crossroads now, knowing he could easily complete the ritual for himself and ascend to the god-like power that Cazador wanted. It would be so easy to do so, yet he looks back at where you stand with the others and something in him breaks. Something in him snaps and it feels like all those traps he set up around him suddenly went off with him in the middle of it. It’s cathartic, with each plunge of the dagger into his master’s chest Astarion feels like this is what he deserves. Over and over again he settles into this weird mixture of grief and anger and allows himself to have his moment of complete power over Cazador. It’s not the ascension he wants, but the one he deserves.

You watch from the sidelines as he allows his anger to consume him, Cazador lying limp in front of him as he repeats the motion of getting his vengeance. You turn your head away to let him have this moment to himself.

He’s distant that night. His plans are complete and there’s nothing left for him to worry about except removing the parasite. He’ll return to the life of shadows and can only hope you would still want to be around him when all is said and done. No matter how badly the outcome of this drags him down he still can’t bring himself to be angry at you for causing him to doubt it. Frustrated or annoyed, maybe, but never angry.

So when he can’t find you at camp, he starts to worry.

Gale calls for everyone to grab some food and Astarion does not see you approach the fire. He does not see you sitting with anyone else, nor does he see you giving affection to the various animals you refused to leave behind. There’s no sound of your laughter or gentle touch from behind as you walk by him, no hint of you anywhere. It’s not hard to slip away from the group as he begins to do a loop around the outskirts of camp to try and find where you are. Concern rattles his bones as he wonders if something happened, if he would stumble across your dead body or worse - you decided to leave.

His anxieties are eased when he finds you sitting a few minutes away from camp on a fallen tree, your back to him. There’s no need to spook you so he purposefully steps on an old branch, breaking it to gain your attention. You turn quickly, hand coming up to ready yourself if there was a fight. With a sigh, you relax once you see him approach.

“Hello,” you say quietly, shuffling over to give Astarion room to sit beside you, if he wants.

“You’re not at camp?” It’s a stupid question but it’s the only thing he could think to say. There is so much he wants to tell you but finding the right words is proving difficult.

You laugh, and Gods he has missed hearing it. It’s such a simple sound but he is certain it was better than any healing from a bottle or Shadowheart. If he could make you laugh forever he would do so, if you only gave him the chance to. He takes a seat next to you, the cool evening air whipping around you both. Astarion sees you frown as you look down at your feet, hands fidgeting nervously. Despite himself, he reaches out to hold them still.

Looking up at him, you take a deep breath as you prepare for what you want to ask him. “You didn't go through with the ritual?” you ask, even though you were there to witness it. You saw him kill Cazador and give up the power with each stab he carved into the vampire lord and had no idea what made him have a change of heart at the last minute.

Astarion shrugs, wanting to blow it off like it didn't bother him at all, but it did. It really did.

“It was you.” The words sound threatening as he speaks and he winces as your eyes grow wide, worry spreading across your face that he was here to get revenge on you interfering.

“Astarion, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it,” you say quickly, moving your hands away from him and slinking back to put some distance between you both.

The way you move away from him in fear hurts him as he retreats back in on himself. Maybe he should have taken the power, that way you would have something to fear about him-- No. No. He refuses to think like that. Not at you. Never at you.

“What I meant is that you were the one to put the doubts into my head about the ritual,” he corrects himself and you are confused. Still, he continues. “You kept saying things that weren’t aligning with my plan and I thought-”

You interrupt him. “Plan?”

Maybe it is time to come clean. “I had a plan. Manipulate you, say and do whatever you wanted me to so that you would help me with Cazador. You’re so kind and compassionate I knew it wouldn't take me long to get you hooked on me.” He can’t stand to see the look on your face as he explains himself. “And yet I found myself wanting you more than I planned for…”

His words fade out as you begin to realise how foolish you had been to believe anything he told you was truthful. He’s pacing in front of you now, explaining how this all fell apart because of you and it feels as if he should be blaming you, but he never does. You wait for the accusatory points and looks that never come.

“So you used me?” you ask once he stops speaking, out of breath from how quickly he threw that at you and looking at you in a way you can only describe as sad.

He runs his hands through his hair in defeat, shoulders slumping and hands falling to his side. “Yes. At the start I used you. But things changed! You changed! You changed me!” He’s certain he’s not making any sense but carries on regardless. The floodgates of whatever feelings he’s been repressing have opened and he was going to drown in them if you didn't give him a hand to pull him out. “It’s you! It’s always been you. Even if I ascended it would still be you I searched for. You have ruined me, and yet I can’t help but want you to see me, to look at me, to simply exist in the space around me!”

“That’s what the Gods made me for, right? To ruin you?” You look at him with a smile as he stops in his ranting.

He’s confused, giving you a frown as the words hit him like a spray of water in the face. “Are you quoting me?”

You shrug. “It’s a good line. Even if you didn't mean it.” Your voice has a hint of sadness to it and Astarion knows if he throws any other sweet line at you you wouldn't believe him. He says your name softly like it’s the first time he’s ever said it and you look at him, conflicted at how you should feel right now.

“I mean it now. My plan was perfect until you started showing me actual kindness…” He sits back down, hands in his head. “How was I supposed to revel in power if you aren’t by my side? How was I supposed to live knowing you hated me?”

“I don’t think I could ever fully hate you,” you admit, giving his shoulder a small nudge. “Though I was fully prepared to kill you if you got too power hungry.”

“It would be an honour to be killed by you,” he replies, hand brushing against yours. He wants to hold you close, promise you that everything he says from now on was the truth but he wasn’t sure you would believe it. “I do regret what I did, you know. At first I didn't care what happened but then…”

“Then you started to care.”

It’s the truth yet Astarion feels so exposed when you say it. He cannot place when he started to care about you beyond his plan but he knows that he does. And he accepts it, here and now. He accepts that this is the ending fate has given him and wishes for you to hold his hand as you progress into the next chapter of life.

“You made me feel happy. You have no idea how long it has been since I was truly happy.” It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders as he reveals this to you. All those long days of mentally keeping himself in check and in line with what he was planning and now it is crumbling away. “I will gladly take the rest of my life in the shadows if it means I get to hold you in the morning. No matter what happens next, I’d still know you. And that’s all I care about right now.”

You pull him into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around him and keeping him close. He melts into your touch and is relieved that you haven’t pushed him away. Because after all this, he still knows you, and you are so very kind towards him. Even when he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it.

Astarion is foolish for believing your kindness wouldn't be his downfall. He’s a fool for you.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x gender neutral reader #; tealeaf's writing

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salty-croissants · 5 months

Note

I’m literally in love with your stuff. Can you maybe to Bullfrog and Rayman with an autistic reader?

Thank you for the request !

I’m so happy you’ve been enjoying my writings , it really means a lot ❤️

I gotta say I was a bit worried about not doing this one right … I did put a few things that I personally find relatable as someone who is autistic myself , thought it would be nice to include is all , I hope this works !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

established relationships ;

no warnings needed

Bullfrog 💚

So , this frog man ? He loves you unconditionally , and he just really wants you to know that he will always accept you and your unique traits , even when you feel insecure about them …

< I … I don’t know , Bullfrog … sometimes I just feel like all I’m doing is being a burden to y - >

< Non . Don’t even finish that .

You’re the most wonderful person I have ever met , y/n , and there isn’t a single day in which I’m not thankful for having you in my life . >

< Really … ? >

< Oui , mon amour . I long for nothing more than being with you . >

< *sniff* >

< Oh - Are you alright ? I’m so sorry , I didn’t mean to make you cry - >

< Heh … it’s okay … I’m just really happy .

I love you so much ~ >

Bullfrog loves listening to you enthusiastically going on and on about something you’re passionate about , especially when he’s not having a good day :

just hearing the sound of your voice is so , so very comforting to him … if he could he would sit beside you for days , his attention reserved for you and you alone .

< … and what’s even more awesome is that there is actually a really subtle easter egg hidden in the background which changes the entire narrative for that charact -

… wait , how long have I been … ? >

< That is very interesting my dear !

Please keep going , j'adore le son de ta voix ~ >

< Aww - >

Your adorable expressions when he showers you with compliments …

Bullfrog can’t even begin to describe how happy they make him ://)

If being around people gets too overwhelming , Bullfrog is quick to pick up on that and he’ll immediately get you someplace more quiet , willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re comfortable and safe …

< Is this really okay ? I’m so sorry , it’s just … it was so crowded and loud in there , and I … >

< Mon cher , there is no reason for you to be sorry … let’s just stay here for now , then if you wish to try and go back in we can do that , or we can always go back home : I assure you , you’ve already done more than enough tonight … I am very proud of you , and you should be too . >

And if one day something starts making you very , very anxious ?

Well , no matter what the reason is and no matter how small it might be Bullfrog is going to stay close to you to help you out in whatever way he can .

< I’m so sorry for making you put up with me like this … you already have so much to take care of , and this … is just dumb . >

< y/n , ce n'est pas te supporter , you know that .

I want to be there for you , the same way you’re always there for me …

I promise you , we can find a way out of this , you don’t have to deal with it on your own . >

< Thank you so much , Bullfrog … you’re amazing ~ >

< Ce serait toi , my dear … I’m truly blessed to have you by my side ~ >

Rayman 🧡

Saying that you mean a lot to this man would be an understatement …

You mean absolutely everything to him , so you better believe that Rayman will always be careful about all the things that could potentially make you uncomfortable , remembering them all very accurately .

< Here sweetie , hold my hand for a moment … >

< Oh - okay , but why ? >

< We’re gonna need to pass through that crowd over there , it should be quick but I don’t want you to get overwhelmed by having many people and loud noises all around , so let’s just stay close until we get through … >

< Thanks Ray … just … don’t let go , please . >

< I would never . >

All the effort Rayman puts into making you feel as comfortable as possible no matter where the two of you are … it never fails to warm your heart .

If anyone even remotely says something mean spirited about you …

Ohh boy , he’s not going to let it slide .

< Uh , excuse me ? WHAT was that about my partner ? >

< Ray , honey , it’s okay … >

Yeah , Rayman is definitely very protective of you , and he will defend you with no hesitation if anyone dares to try and make you feel inadequate in any way .

Rayman loves listening to you talk about whatever topics come to your mind while he’s working …

It actually helps him focus quite a lot , and he really never gets bored of seeing how happy you look when info dumping about something you’re passionate about .

You’re just so pretty ! He can’t get over it …

If you tend to lose focus to the point of forgetting to take care of yourself , Rayman has got you covered : he makes sure to remind you to eat and drink water often , even leaving little notes in places where he knows you’ll find them …

“Important : remember to eat today ! <3”

“If you’re reading this … get a glass of water !”

His devotion to you is nothing less than adorable … but then again , you’re the person he cares about most , the one that showed him kindness without asking for anything in return , so now ?

Rayman deems it only fair to repay that kindness in his own way .

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #rayman #gender neutral reader #bullfrog x reader #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #captain lazerhawk bullfrog

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iwelcomedeathwithopenarms04 · 2 months

Text

Yandere Sir Pentious | General Headcanons

Since no one else is doing it, I will >:(

Ps. I take requests ;)

● He may not be the smartest or strongest, but he's got the spirit alright.

● In this scenario, you met him first at the Hotel. Maybe you were a sinner looking for redemption? Maybe you were Charlie's friend or in a leash? Or maybe you just were there for the free housing? Either way, this man fell in love with you on first sight, believe it or not.

● He walks in all sad and pitiful `redemption redemption' and you don't buy his lie and goddamn it he doesn't know why but the glare you are giving him gives him the chills. And not in a bad way mind you.

● Like you're just standing there glaring at him, and he just locks up when he sees your eyes on him. `Who is this?` `What's their name?` `WHY ARE THEY SO GODDAMN SEXY?!`

● Eventually (literally on the first day lmao) when Angel Dust discovers the "hidden" camera and you walk in, dropkick him and stand on his back with one leg to keep him down he almost moans right then and there. Like wtf why are you so good-looking while beating the shit outta him???

● You ain't even gotta be stronger than him. When you lay your hands on him (or literally any part of you), he just locks up and lets you throw him around.

● The Egg Boyz are gonna call you 'mom' 'mama' 'momma' or any possible alternate regardless of your gender (or lack of).

● Like the Egg Boyz just are too dumb to comprehend anything. In their eyes, the boss loves likes you, you care for the Egg Boyz (whether out of your own volition or not doesn't matter), and you keep their boss in line. To them, you're a mother because a mother's role is to care and keep the daddy in line, right? (Why Egg Boyz, why).

● Anyways, as a yandere, Sir Pentious is more capable of showing his feelings for you than in the show. Instead of saying, "Because I'm buying drinks for everyone," he goes "because you are my first ever friend" or something like that.

● Though he certainly isn't the strongest demon out there, he ain't the weakest either. If some random demon happens to be messing with you, they just might find themselves in a bit of a pickle when Sir Pentious pays them a visit <33

● "You better bow down trash. You're in the presence of a RULER." (He's talking about you, btw) he worships the ground you walk on. You can't do any wrong in his eyes (even though you are in Hell for a reason)

● You could literally blow up an orphanage, and he would go "Yeah well the orphanage was in their way."

● In the final battle, you had gotten hurt, and he couldn't stand it. In his eyes, someone so powerful and mighty (even though you may actually be weaker than him) couldn't be defeated by something as simple as a hit from the first man ever, right? Right?!

● There are two ways we can go from here.

● One is that Sir Pentious sacrifices himself for you. He sees how hurt you are and filled with rage and the thirst of revenge he gets a confidence boost and kisses you deeply, declaring his undying love for you in front of EVERYBODY.

• Then he powers up the machine, dies an embarrassing death and yada yada. Now in Heaven, he will literally fight tooth and nail to either get back down to you or to bring you up there with him.

● If it so happens that he can't remember anything, then he would feel deep longing for something or someone that he can't quite place. What is this painful feeling in his chest? Why does he feel like he is missing someone important?

● Alternatively, if it so happens that YOU end up dying in the final battle, then Holy Hell.

● Seeing your lifeless body fills him with pure heartbreak that he didn't know he was even capable of feeling.

● He would kill himself then and there. He doesn't care who he will leave behind as long as he gets to die, too, while holding your hand or hugging your body close to his. He can't live without you, even in Hell. To him, the only way to be loyal to you now that you are dead is to be dead with you.

● Even in death, you can't escape your diehard fan <3

#yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel headcanons #yandere sir pentious #soft yandere #yandere headcanons

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depressopax · 3 months

Text

Dating Berlin headcanons

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

NSFW version

SFW version can be found here

Pairing: Andrés de Fonollosa x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. Semi-public, oral, cuss words, degradation, penetration Words: 1.2K Summary: Dating Berlin/Andrés would include… English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! AO3 link soon

Andrés is a switch… You can’t change my mind

He loves being on top of you, making you beg for him and his cock

…But he also loves being under you, letting you have your way with him while he submits to all of your wishes.

It totally depends on what you like in bed

And what mood he’s in.

He has much stamina and a high sex drive, but sometimes he just likes being lazy, letting you take control while he lays down.

Basically a bit of a “pillow princess” lmao

When he’s being submissive, you’re all his.

He appreciates you being loving, of course

But he also gets turned on by you being rough, with degradation/insults and moving in a fast pace

Fuck it, he gets turned on by you choking him and “light” slaps on his face.

As long as you don’t leave big marks on his skin, he doesn’t mind.

When he’s in control, he has two moods: - Passionate and slow - Fast and rough - No in between, usually.

He loves seeing you all helpless underneath him, making you a moaning, whimpering mess with his hard thrusts and fast pace

Just slutting you tf out

Heads up - if you ask him to be rough, homeboy will NOT hold back.

Seriously, when he says: “I’ll fuck you so you can’t walk straight” He means it.

But of course he also loves to show his love to you with slow, passionate love-making sessions, so he calls them.

Long strokes, lots of praise and kisses

Sex with Andrés means a lot of foreplay and some damn good aftercare.

He likes to really prepare you before penetrating you.

…Which you probably need. He is bigger than other men.

Which he brags about. ;)

He could (and probably will) tease you for hours.

Foreplay with him is usually cheesy.

He lights candles, gives you massages, kisses you and rubs you in oils

He knows what he does with both his hands/fingers and mouth 👀

He takes lot of time to make sure you’re ready

He wants you to beg for his cock before he gives it to you.

He uses condoms, but only if you ask him too.

Otherwise, he probably “forgets”

But sometimes he simply skips the foreplay and goes straight to action.

Usually this is when he’s frustrated, angry or really excited to see you (after being away from you etc)

Where he takes you doesn’t matter

He’ll bend you over anything, at any time, thrusting his cock into you whilst whispering praise

Or while ranting about why he’s in a bad mood - using sex as “therapy”.

When he’s in the mood, he’s a needy/clingy bitch

Sorry not sorry lol

Kissing your neck, playfully spanking your ass… You name it.

Doesn’t matter if you’re around people, he will not hesitate to tell you just how horny he is.

He doesn’t hide his boner from you, either.

Stands behind you, his clothed erection against your ass

You think he’s being annoying? “Do something about it” He’ll murmur with a big ass grin

Won’t stop until he gets to fuck you

OR until YOU fuck him.

He likes riling you up, getting you a bit mad only so you’ll be aggressive with him in bed.

During sex, he is either very serious, but can also crack a joke or two.

He tries to be “funny” especially if you are nervous during sex etc.

Your comfort is his top priority.

Lot of reassurance and questions “You ok?” “Does that feel good, mi amor?” “We’ll stop if you want to.”

He also praises you a lot “Fuck… Taking my cock so well.” “You’re so beautiful. So damn perfect”

When it comes to oral, Andrés doesn’t really have a preference either.

Like I said, this man is a switch.

It’s pretty easy to make him submit to you

Definitely will get on his knees if you ask him too - ready to please your needs

He likes squeezing your thighs, slapping your ass or stroking your stomach and chest when his lips/tongue works down there.

When he gives you oral, he’s very passionate and teasing

But if he’s really turned on tho - he’s messy.

Sloppy oral sex where he uses a bit too much tongue- (I’m sorry 😭)

He could - probably would too - spend hours between your legs, tasting you

…Talks a bit too much “I could spend hours between your legs” “You taste so sweet, mi amor.” “That’s it… Lay back down and let me take care of you.”

Hot, but sometimes annoying lmao

When he’s the one receiving it? Lord have mercy-

Berlin tries to be nice and wants you to feel comfortable.

But how can he not push your head a bit?

If he feels mean, he pushes his hips up, making you gag on his cock.

He likes hearing you choke on him, and the tears in your eyes is a turn-on.

He likes finishing down your throat, holding your head still and basically fuck your face

But if YOU take charge - he’ll lay back down and let you control everything

Just tell him to “Be still”/”Don’t fucking move” and he’ll obey like a good boy <3

This is also one of the times when he’ll whimper and beg for you.

He thinks you’re so damn good at blowjobs, and legit begs for them all the time.

He’s extra sensitive when your mouth is around his member, and making him whimper and moan is easy peasy.

He’s very rewarding after you give him heads, too.

Andrés is a bit of a kinky mf.

He def has some kind of daddy kink, wanting you to call him “daddy” in bed.

Honestly? He wouldn’t mind calling you mommy/daddy in bed too (if you’re into that lmao) - or he will do so just to tease you

He’s into light BDSM, and owns some nice pairs of blindfolds, ropes/handcuffs, a gag and some whips-

The scene where he was tied up? Homeboy enjoyed that a bit too much Iykwim ;)

Sorry, but Andrés is definitely into cockwarming 👀

After finishing, he usually doesn’t pull out but instead keeps his softening member inside of you.

If you are into that too, he suggests for you to cockwarm him during nights.

He just loves being inside of you

When it comes to aftercare, he loves it.

Running you a hot bath, giving massages etc.

He is not the guy that asks for aftercare from you, but he does appreciate you taking care of him after you’ve topped him.

He likes to cuddle you

Also likes having late night conversations with you, talking about dreams and the future, or just random bullshit.

He is very affectionate afterwards.

He loves and cherishes you and always tries showing it to you.

But after sex he is extra loving, which you can tell by the way he looks into your eyes

Or his smile.

To summarize… This man appreciates you no matter what and doesn’t care if he’s over or under you. He is a very passionate man and loves sex with you.

Did I just spend like 2h straight on writing a very detailed Berlin smut? Yep. No regrets 😭

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lillithhearts · 2 months

Note

Hello! Been thinking a lot about Rosie and how I think she’d be lovely at giving people comfort so I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something Rosie x reader with Rosie bringing the reader down from a panic attack? Or just generally calming them down, I guess.

Rosie x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

ׂׂׂׂૢ Pairing : Rosie x Reader

ׂׂૢ cw : not Proofread

ׂׂૢ Reader is gender neutral

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

♪ she's an awesome advice giver and great at de-escalating situations of any kind so she'd be the go-to person if you needed someone.

♪ Rosie is going through every exercise she knows to ground you and calm you down whether it be a panic attack or you just in general getting really riled up. She is by your side till you tell her you are good to go

♪ a master at hiding the fact shes extremely worried about you, this is skipping and falling over herself if she hears you're in any distress; her sweetie beloved can't be feeling like this! That won't do, she has to fix this.

♪ would frankly like to be by your side constantly if you're prone to anxiety or panic attacks; she's constantly holding your hand and making sure everything isn't becoming too much for you.

♪ Sometimes though; she doesn't know what to do, she kinda just sits next to you if you're in a "nobody talk or touch me, don't even breathe near me" kinda situation she feels helpless while looking at you knowing there's not really anything she can do for you, so she sits with you.

♪ absolutely tries to preemptively stop attacks from happening by removing you from stressful or triggering situations; talking her way out of the conversation so you can take a breather

♪ if you get extremely angry about something she'll sit and listen and even get angry with you; she doesn't rush you or how you feel. First letting you scream,yell or walk it off and then talk to you afterwards

♪ overall an attentive,sweet partner and a very good shoulder to cry on! She's just the sweetest gal in hell <3

Authors note : Again! I've been sick but I'm gonna try and get some more stuff out today! I feel motivated so let's hope nothing ruins that

Taglist : @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @k1y0yo @anni1600 @d0nutsaur

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #rosie x reader #rosie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel

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enb-y · 8 months

Text

↬ ROTTMNT BOYS FINDING OUT THAT READER OWNS A KITTEN

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles.

request: ❝ hello, can i request headcanons where the rise turtles react to the reader having a pet kitten? platonic or romantic, i don't mind, and gender neutral pronouns please ^^ ❞ — anonymous.

warnings: mentions of ticks, deworming, ringworm, fleas, mild swearing, unedited. could be read as platonic or romantic.

characters: raphael, leonardo, donatello, michelangelo.

writers note: cats, my all time favorite menace. I actually have one— well, that felon is my sisters, but I take care of her like she’s my damn cat. (sigh, I miss my cat 😔)

readers pronouns are not mentioned nor included.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆RAPHAEL.

✶ raphael, the one who adores animals of all creatures. although, some of them don’t even like him half the time. most likely do to fear, or simply he’s not their kind of guy. raph is quite the scary and intimidating guy, yet he’s a major softy inside that scary shell. so, the first thing he does is try to smother the kitten, okay not too literally. however, in a more mature manner, he does try to help you with the kitten, especially if you just got it.

✶ raph will help you bathe the kitten if you find it off the streets. he highly recommends you to take it to the vet to see if it has any major issues, and he’ll definitely help you find the siblings and mother, that’s only if it’s not abandoned.

✶ he's really gentle with the kitten, especially knowing his size and strength. the kitten is smaller than his damn hands. he loves animals, he thinks he’s some kind of animal whisperer, snow white headass. let’s not forget to de-flea it, he will not help you pluck you out the ticks. he’s afraid of doing something wrong and the bug's head getting stuck inside the poor animal's skin.

✶ he’s fine with helping you remove the flea’s from its fur and putting medicine on it, but he will never pluck goddamn ticks from it. he does not fuck with them. and knowing that they also suck on anything that has blood? he’s good, he’ll have nightmares though.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆LEONARDO.

✶ leonardo thinks kittens are cute. but he’ll only like them if they feel the same way about him. he’ll most likely back off if he sees or hears a cat hissing. he does not fuck with grumpy ass felines, sure they’re cute, but he does not care. leo likes kittens and he would like to have one, yet he can’t, because all the kittens and cats that he and brother brought home all tried to have their dad as their meal. which, of course, got them gradually kicked out of the sewers.

✶ leonardo definitely tries to help you with your animal, especially if it’s a stray. he’s had his fair shares of beef with stray animals and he’s won every single battle. (no he didn’t, he ran away.) he highly recommends you to get the animal checked for any worms and other issues that it may have. not only that, he’s cautions and he doesn’t want you nor himself catching ringworm.

✶ he probably steals cat food for you, since he can’t be seen by humans and all that junk. but if you’ve bought the kitten from someone, he’s definitely smothering the kitten. he’ll think of it as his child, the single child that he’s always wanted. leo likes animals, to a certain extent, and he’s aware of the responsibility of taking care of an animal, especially a kitten.

✶ leo is more than willing to help you out with it, just ring him up and he’s there in a flash, literally. leonardo thinks that cats are cute and fluffy. he likes their purring and how they swipe toys around with their paws.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆DONATELLO.

✶ honestly, I see donatello as a cat person. he likes their independence and quietness. although he’s aware of how loud they can get and would literally knock just about anything off your desk. but other than that, he likes cats. when he heard that you had just gotten a kitten. he wants to immediately know if that kitten is healthy and to see a vet if it’s a stray. it isn’t surprising that he’s awfully gentle with said kitten.

✶ he’s there with you when you’re picking it up and he wants to hold it the moment you get it, because he said so. this guy absolutely loves cats, he thinks they’re cutest shits on the planet.

✶ he tells you which brand of food is good for the kitten and what litter you should use and what type of litter box you should also get for it.. which some of them are quite expensive. not too worry, he’ll find a way to get you those nice things for your little kitten who will grow up to be spoiled.

✶ he gets toys for the kitten and would love it if the kitten laid on his lap as he pets it. the only thing he doesn’t like is shedding, he doesn’t like things sticking to his clothes that he decides to wear during that day.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆MICHELANGELO.

✶ he’s also someone who loves animals. he watches enough videos about animals and non-domesticated cats, which he does not like watching all the time, for good reasons too. he literally would help you take care of it, because he wants to and he likes to spend time with the little kitten. he doesn’t care where you gotten it from he just thinks it’s cute to watch over, especially since it’s small and playful.

✶ he’s definitely been scratched and bitten by it. he forgave it because it’s just a baby and they almost always acted out during those ages. if it’s a baby where it still needs a bottle and it’s been abandoned or the mother isn’t around anymore, he’ll take care of it for you if you can’t do it on those days when you’re busy.

✶ he doesn’t really care too much about the shedding that cats do, he keeps those sticky rollers around to take off the fur before he returns home from spending time with you and the kitten.

✶ this guy squealed when he saw the kitten laying on its bed. his first instinct was to hold it. mikey loves animals, so whatever you bring home, he’s the first one, other than his brother raph to hold it and pet it, because he said so. he also adopted it along with you and helps you with feeding and treatments, that’s only if the little one has any, and bought it treats and whatnot.

end - I finally did it. I’ve finally finished this. this has been sitting in the drafts for, not too long, I think. but I’m just glad to have this done, but I’m sorry you had to wait a while for me to finish this. it’s 5:23am so ima try to go to sleep, gm everyone.

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alicedrawslesmis · 19 days

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I know I just said I didn't want to just be complaining about everything so I'll try to word this in a more constructive way asdfghjkl

It's hard to be an Eponine fan in a world where the musical -and On My Own specifically- is sooooo mainstream. Because imo as much as On My Own itself is kind of a half-decent, if simplified, encapsulation of Eponine's struggle with her love for Marius if you analise the lyrics in isolation, the musical as a whole, her role in the narrative as the unrequited love diva (I'm also simplifying here. I don't think this is super fair to the anglo musical, but compared to the book there's no question of how they reworked her into a glamorous 80s diva contralto because musical theatre has usually very strict gender roles), did her so dirty. So dirty. And imo often her character is reduced to her pining in fandom as a result. And I don't like that, personally.

I love that girl so much. I love that she is just young enough to still be a child but adult enough to be aware of her social role. She has one foot in the gamin life and one foot in the adult world. I love the tragedy that is the fact that she likes the beauty and pomp of high society girls and wish she could have silk shoes but knowing she can't.

And also being super resigned to her class despite it, she doesn't believe she ever will have any of that. She resents that too, somewhat. The tragedy of her knowing that she couldn't be with Marius because of his social class and her accepting that (angrily? sadly?). I love her self-banishment as his guard dog because of this. I love her drunk sailor voice. I love how manipulative she is and that she isn't Marius's friend at all. He's just her one neighbor who wasn't a total asshole one time. He was, later. But not at first. And she can't be in his head and know he thinks she's kinda despicable because crime because Marius is a judgemental little shithead.

And Eponine isn't an idealist, she's resigned to her position. I understand why she gets paired with grantaire in fics but her canon narrative parallel is Javert, they both believe they are excluded from society from their outcast position and so become the watchdogs for it. Eponine a kind of guardian (in her own words a devil, not an angel) and Javert the same. That's why he's the one person who sees her in the barricade, he's the same as her. Marius saw her but that's only cause he had a use for her in that moment, as soon as she didn't he forgot all about it.

I think also Gavroche, with his ability to be kind of a figure above the narrative, with his gamin skills of being almost omnipresent is something Eponine used to have, but with her age she's starting to lose that. She's starting to grown old enough that she's required to be IN the world and not supercede it. Gavroche is also almost there, if he had been allowed to grow up he would've lost that ability too. They both inhabit this sort of magical surreal world superimposed on our own.

A lot of Les Mis and Notre Dame de Paris can be kinda described as magical realism, I would go so far as calling them urban fantasy. And characters like Babet, Thenardier sometimes, Gavroche, Eponine (and Javert sometimes as well) are inhabiting this magically charged layer. This reality that's imposed Over the real world.

Talking about that One Series Of Wizard Books is a bit passé rn so uh. Doctor Who. Particularly the initial New Who seasons before they got that huge budget. That's a good parallel to what I'm getting at. The real world is still the same but there are certain characters that inhabit this mystical overlayer and are able to transverse from one to the other (Javert can't really because he is stuck forever outside and the second he understands that you CAN'T be an unbiased outsider who only enforces the norm without participating he freaks out and literally dies about it). Eponine is right in the eye of the storm tho. She manipulates reality to get her way, to die with Marius, because that's as close as she can get to being with him. And she manipulates reality to protect him too. Contradictions be damned. She has many contradictory feelings that make her complex and cool and an awesome character whom I love and wish would stop being reduced to the glamurous mysical theatre role with a single black stain on her face and a beautiful actor and a big unrequited love song about a random boy (whose personality was also changed for the musical and I argue is probably the character that was most fucked up by it in the public perception because he's such an weird little self-insert of an even weirder guy. But I get it, the musical is long enough as it is).

Anyway, I wish eponine could be more of a mongrel, a little gremlin. A little rat child that's just beginning to grow into an adult and is self aware of her role in the narrative society. She's a teenage girl which already sucks to go through when you're not constantly starving and cold and being forced by your father to work and do con jobs. Marius is the object she attaches herself to, but it could've been literally anything. Javert did that with the social order, he protects and guards it. She just chose Some Guy instead. Which, we all have that one friend who does that too. Like girl you're too good for him. Come on let's get you sone ice cream. And clean clothes and a roof. Literally anything. Bread.

I think if Eponine had a roof over her head and like, food on the regular she would forget Marius exists. Same as Cosette if she had moved to England. Like he'd be that one intense crush they had as teenagers. Can't say the same for him tho. He would hold onto that for the rest of time.

#rambling #idk. anyone has any thoughts?#if you disagree with me. go right ahead and say your piece! I'm open to being contradicted here #I'm no authority asdfghkkflsbsg like I'm just some rando on the internet with a les mis blog #long post

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finn-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Hello :) I must admit I've been binge reading your content. I was hoping I could request a Percy (Vox Machina) x gn reader where he gets very worried when reader either nearly sacrifices themselves for him or they take a risk that he didn't think was necessary? 10/10 worried perce is adorbs but i also feel guilty o.o 👉👈 ngl I live for when he be stressing and overprotective lmao. Poor Percy needs a vacation.

I Need You

Percy hadn't let himself care for someone this much ever since he lost everyone. How had you managed to change that?

Percy de Rolo x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Oneshot (1550 words)

Content Warnings: Fairly light descriptions of injuries, and an argument between Reader and Percy. Talk of potential deadly harm, as this takes place after a battle.

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

Consider the image of Percy on vacation in one of those Hawaiian shirts and big sunglasses. Also I do not apologize for the amount of Pike. She is everything to me<3 -Finn

"Now, I know reckless in a fight," Pike said, carefully wrapping a bandage around the deep wound on your leg. "I have been reckless in a fight. But that? That was not reckless. That was stupid. And stupid will get you killed out there! And then where would we be?"

You knew her well enough to recognize the concern under the scolding, even as she wrapped the bandage a little tighter than necessary to punctuate her point. You felt bad about letting her look after you even after she had burned the last of her spell slots, but she hadn't been keen on taking no for an answer after getting a look at the injury, dragging you to your room in the keep. According to her, it was a miracle you’d gotten back to the keep at all on that leg after the battle. Even when you insisted you could wrap it yourself, she waved you off. Too kind for her own good with a party like this. Sometimes she was the only thing keeping you all from running headfirst to your demises. (Or at least yanking you all back when you tried.)

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Pike. I just couldn't let Percy take the hit instead, he didn't see it coming, he would be worse off than I am now." You smiled at the cleric, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly. Pike didn’t look all that impressed, but you knew she understood.

His gun had jammed in the middle of the battle, a familiar flaw of its mechanisms. But instead of teasing your lover about it like usual, you had seen an attacker lunge at him as he let his guard down. He was a ranged fighter, nothing should have been allowed to get that close in the first place. Of course, he dropped his guard for a moment. In any other fight, he would have been fine to unjam his gun while ducking back from the battle.

It sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine when you imagined what might have happened if you hadn't been so close. Throwing yourself in the way and fighting off the creature had landed you with a blindingly painful wound on your leg and likely a couple of bruised ribs if the ache that came with breathing was anything to go by. It had been stronger than you'd expected, and getting hit with the flat of a weapon may have been better than the edge, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Both of you were being stupid. If I see that happen again, you'll have Grog patch you up instead. And he hasn't quite gotten a handle on his bedside manner, yet."

Laughing hurt, but It was good to know Pike was relaxed enough to joke. Meant that you probably weren't dying.

"Pike! Are they-" Percy bolted into the room, looking for all intents a wild man, before stopping in his tracks at the sight of you. A load of tension dropped from his shoulders, but only for long enough for him to register your injuries. You knew you looked pretty rough. In all fairness, so did he, his white hair shot through with wisps of gray from gunsmoke and the black powder always left on his gloves. He must have been running his hands through it, if it’s messy style was anything to go off of.

"Hey, Percy," you said softly, doing your best to offer a reassuring smile. It must have been closer to a grimace with the concerned noise he bit off in response. There was something a little heartbreaking about the open stress and worry in his eyes as he stepped forward, hesitating to touch you. He so often had his emotions in check, that seeing them so openly on display felt unfair to him. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it a moment, and the contact seemed to pull him back out of his thoughts.

"By the gods, what were you thinking? Are you insane? You could have gotten yourself killed! Who just jumps in front of an attack like that?" He wasn't quite yelling, wouldn't yell at you in your own room, but the panic set into his voice was more than a sufficient substitute.

"Percy, it's not like you were dodging it, you would have been hit instead." You made an attempt at answering reasonably, trying to calm his worries, but if anything, it only made it worse somehow.

"Then you should have let it hit me instead of throwing yourself at a blade! If it had hit you at a different angle it very well could have gone straight through you! Were you thinking at all?" He had dropped your hand now, pacing a circle in your room.

"I was thinking about how you were going to get hit. Is it such a crime to look out for you?"

"At the cost of yourself, yes!"

"I'm not going to sit and watch you get hurt if I can do something about it!"

"And make me watch you nearly die instead?"

Pike spoke up before you could say anything, pushing herself to her feet. "Both of you. Quit it." She was obviously both annoyed and exhausted. You and Percy both wilted under her tone as she turned to look at you. "That was a stupid and dangerous move today. Don't pull that again. Percy, Don't yell at someone who saved you, you sound like an asshole. They need to rest, so shelve your argument for later."

The wind had been taken out of his sails, leaving him standing back by the wall, thoroughly chastised. "I, yes, of course, Pike."

"Don't walk on that leg today, take it easy," Pike said, looking back at you. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to double-check on you, but I need some rest. I'm plumb out of energy."

"Don't worry about it, Pike, I'll be alright. Thank you."

"Good. Now both of you, if I hear anything about you two arguing again, I'm setting Keyleth on your case." With that, she patted your shoulder and swept out of the room.

There was a moment of awkward silence, Percy glancing around your room rather than meeting your eyes. He seemed to be debating on what to say, or maybe whether to follow Pike out the door to be out of your hair.

"Percy,"

"I apologize. I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. Especially not while you're injured. I didn't- I, well." Staring fiercely at his feet, his apology was stumbling. There was something endearing about it, in the way there always was when he extended a branch of vulnerability. "I was worried about you. Seeing you get thrown to the ground after taking a hit for me was...terrifying, to say the least."

"Oh, Percy," you sighed, beckoning him over. "It was pretty fucking terrifying to see you about to be hit, too."

He walked up to you, stopping in front of you and kneeling down so as to look up at you instead of towering over you. "I...can understand that. I simply don't want you getting hurt on my behalf. Or at all, really."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? Being adventurers who never get hurt." You reached a hand out, resting it softly on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and you could see through the worry to the affection underneath it. "I don't want you hurt either. If today didn't make that obvious."

"I know, dear, I do." He nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. It was achingly soft, like he was still afraid that you would break. You wouldn’t, but the gentle nature of his love still squeezed your heart. "Could I at least look after you while you recover? This is my fault."

"Don't be an idiot, I moved of my own free will. But, I wouldn't deny some extra time with you. And I'll need the help if I'm supposed to stay off my leg."

"We can discuss who's at fault tomorrow, love. Tell me what I can do to help?" There was an exasperated fondness in his voice, the familiar pattern the two of you always fell into. It was soothing after the sharp tension of before.

"Just hold me? We could both use the chance to relax, I think."

He let out a breathless chuckle, nodding and reluctantly pulling back from your gentle hold. He wasn't fragile either, not like glass ready to break. But you couldn't help but want to treat him with care, the same way he treated you as he carefully helped you lie down in your bed, shedding his coat to slip in beside you and draw you into his arms.

There would be more fights to come, there would be more injuries and arguments, and worries. But if after them all, you could both be okay enough to end up like this, it would be alright. Your face pressed against his shoulder, his hands steady on your back. You could be safe here, together.

As your heartbeats fell into synch, you gently pulled off his glasses, setting them aside. It made it easier to lean in and kiss him, slow and tired.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

#finnwrites #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii #percy de rolo #percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader #tlovm x reader #tlovm #the legend of vox machina x reader #legend of vox machina x reader #the legend of vox machina #legend of vox machina #critical role #critical role c1 #critical role x reader #oneshot

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

YANDERE! COLLEGE X POPULAR GIRL! / QUEEN BEE! READER BLURB ( 01 )

I don’t usually make gendered readers/mcs but because the MC is hyperfemme in the webtoon I’ll be making off this + the themes relate to femininity. . .

ALSO I JUST REALIZED IT’S WEDNESDAY SO HELL YES. FOLKS WELCOME TO MY FIRST WOMEN LOVING WEDNESDAY POST.

Inspirations: From Films : Mean Girls, Jennifer’s Body. From Tumblr : the blog heartfullofleeches

Pairings (Blurb Specific) : Yandere! Ex! Jock! x Popular Girl/Queen Bee! Reader x Yandere GF of the Jock! Good Girl! Soft Girl!

TW/CW: Heavy themes typical to Yanderes, Manipulative! Reader. Mention of violence towards a girl. Reader cucks her ex.

Poor Darling de Leon.

It was obvious she was being used as a replacement. A way to make you jealous by your attention seeking ex.

He could have at least tried to hide it better. The girl wasn’t his type at all. She was demure, easy on the eyes yes, but awfully withdrawn and shy. Her fashion sense heavily contrasted yours, by its blinding pastels and childish themes.

Her lips, covered in gloss, made it even more plump and kissable. Yet the dimwitted Jock hadn’t let her gone past the occasional lap sitting and back hugs whenever you were in the room. His disgust for replacement could be spotted from a mile away, really.

Poor, pretty Darling De Leon. So unused, so unloved.

If it were up to you . . .

“Yoohoo~ Darling?”

“M-me?”

“You’re silly, y’know that? Why don’t you come here?”

Your entourage gave you a funny look. Throughout the years they have learnt not to question your actions lest they face the consequences. Yet it still bothered them whenever you wasted your time on people like Darling. You time was better off spent with them and them alone.

Darling, although apprehensive, knew enough to not knock on the hornet’s nest. The incident yesterday showed the transferee just how much power you held over the student body here.

You stared at her standing with an amused look before you gestured to your lap.

“Here, sweetie.”

She sat on your lap. Completely frozen.

What were you planning? Was she going to end up like that girl? She never wanted to date Justin, she was coerced into it.

Before any more thoughts entered her pretty head you spoke once more, “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”

She bit back a squeal as you glided your hands across her inner thighs.

“Hmph, what a man Justin is.” You lean into her ear and whisper, “He doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you, Darling.”

Was this a ploy for you to get them to break up? Darling winced as you squeezed the soft skin on her legs. She’ll do it in a heartbeat! You didn’t have to bully her like this.

“You know who does, though?”

You began giving her neck kisses. Lightly, as if putting just a little more pressure would break her.

“Y-you?”

Your lips separated from her skin, hands too. The absence of the warmth it provided startled her. Finally, as Darling caught her breath and looked at her surroundings, she finally noticed her boyfriend staring at the scene in horrifying anger, not to mention the entire class . . .

“Me.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere original characters x reader #yandere original characters #yandere original character #yandere original character x reader #fem yandere #female yandere #femme yandere #female yandere x reader #fem x reader #midnight darling #darling de leon #justin del rosario

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Note

I’m sorry I wasn’t specific with the monster high relationship headcanon, but can you do one for Draculaura, Frankie, Cleo, Clawdeen, and Lagoona?

Relationship Headcanons | Monster High

thank you for requesting, anon!

includes : clawdeen wolf, cleo de nile, draculaura, frankie stein & lagoona blue

reader is assumed as gender neutral

Clawdeen Wolf

as a partner, clawdeen is the type of girl to push you to your limits and help you branch out of your comfort zone — encouraging you to better yourself and achieve your goal however she can.

very confident in your relationship and isn’t ashamed to show it/you off to whoever is in the vicinity

tends to get much more territorial over you during a full moon — which usually leads to her not leaving your side and snapping at anyone who gets too close

very chilled out otherwise but will always be touching you when you’re with her — big on casual pda

whenever she’s competing, she’ll always look out for you in the crowd and treats you as a sort of good luck charm (will also wink at you and blow you a kiss before/after she goes)

isn’t above snapping at or even fighting anyone who insults or belittles you, but will hold back if you ask her to

her siblings are both her biggest cheerleaders in your relationship and her biggest nuisances — like they love you but they love teasing her more

swaps clothes and accessories with you, but if you go out of your way to buy something matching with her then this girl will melt

calls you “babe” or your name

Cleo De Nile

as a partner, cleo is just as sweet and affectionate as she is possessive and bitchy — switching between hanging off of your arm and giving you the cold shoulder at the slightest sign of disrespect from you.

very affectionate with you - so expect plentiful hugs and kisses as you hangout together

remembers your favourite things and will use her wealth and status to get you whatever you want — even if it’s something you only meant once in passing

very insecure and has a bad habit of lashing out if she thinks you’re implying her to be anything less than perfect (a consequence of her upbringing), which can lead to arguments and even short lived break-ups

you’re the only person she’ll apologise to because she’s terrified of you leaving her

trusts your opinion and thoughts over anyone else’s, and will usually come to you with any issues she has to vent or get advice

matching jewellery is a must for her (and it has to match her outfits, of course)

can very easily get snippy with you if you or anyone else fail to follow her rules or don’t listen to her, but if you pick her up on it politely and affectionately then she’ll be much more likely to stop

calls you “sweetie” or “honey”

Draculaura

as a partner, draculaura is incredibly affectionate and genuine — greeting you with a kiss and a hug whenever she sees you and bringing you gifts at the most seemingly random times.

very big on spoiling and pampering you as that’s the type of treatment she’s used to and she couldn’t imagine giving you anything less

plans all of her meals in advance and would love to get you involved whether that’s in the preparation of the food or just sharing the dishes she loves

draculaura tends to get emotional very easily and when she’s feeling quite vulnerable she’s seek you out above anyone else — just clinging to you and indulging in the comfort you provide

brags about you a lot both in person and online — talks about you like you’re the most amazing person in the world

she’s incredibly clingy and always seems to be hanging off of you in one way or another — though this most frequently manifests as her interlinking your arms and resting her head on your shoulder as you walk about the school

values your opinion a lot and will ask you about any new outfit or accessory or hair style she wears/buys and hangs off your every word when you respond

sleepover dates are kind of a must given her unique circumstances but it’s hardly a drawback as she loves to spend time with you no matter where you are

calls you a variety of nicknames in both romanian and english — some cheesy and some traditional — but the most common would be “darling” and “Iubirea mea”

Frankie Stein

as a partner, frankie is the type to be very unsure of herself but also very considerate and sweet — constantly worried about doing something wrong and asking you if she’s doing things right.

even more clumsy than usual around you because of how flustered she gets — so expect to keep picking up after her (and parts of her) until she finds her footing

because she draws so heavily from her magazines, frankie tends to act very stereotypically in your relationship

highly affectionate: kisses between classes, hand holding as you walk through the halls, greeting you with a hug, etc.

gives you very sappy nicknames that she reads from various sources (e.g. “sweetheart”, “baby”, “honey”, etc.)

very encouraging towards you, giving you genuine advice and pep talks when you’re upset or worried about something

plans out dates to the t, but something usually ends up going wrong so you’ll end up improvising anyway

easily flustered when it comes to you and it doesn’t take much to leave her stumbling over her words and tripping over thin air from your words

Lagoona Blue

as a partner, lagoona is incredibly protective and patient with you whilst also respecting you enough to be completely honest with you — like she loves you for who you are and helps you however she can, but she also isn’t afraid to let you know when you’ve messed up.

she loves spending time with you whether you’re actually doing something together or you’re just casually hanging out in the same place

casually affectionate in person but not overly so — like she’ll greet you with a hug and a kiss but after that the most she’ll really do is lean her head on your shoulder or hold your hand

you get to see every side of lagoona including parts of herself that she tries to keep contained — so you see her at her most passionate and most vulnerable

talks about you a lot when she’s with friends and family to the extent that the first time you meet them will feel more like reuniting with old friends from how well they know you

tends to skip a lot of dates due to swim practise and competitions — but you likely already knew how passionate she was before you got together so she’s not as stressed as she could be about it

is fiercely loyal to both you and her friends and you’re one of the few people that can talk her down from going out to confront someone that offended one of you (though she does go to them later, with a more level head, to get them to back off)

calls you “hun” or a shortened version of your name

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tsukiyouyuis · 10 months

Text

Why is Diluc so attractive? A list of headcanons...

Since my friend is writing fics about Genshin men and is working on knowing them better + looking for more ideas, I came up a list of headcanons of Diluc and hopefully it will be an inspiration.

However, I suddenly found it’s surprisingly enjoyable to read them and it might be an good idea for me to post them here. Just to share my random thoughts/fantasies about Diluc as a faithful simp and hopefully to give people ideas for writing :)

Please note:

Most of them are implied🔞 so minors who are under 18 please respect yourselves and stop reading under the cut.

The only pronoun I used is "you" without specifying the gender. However, I wrote them in a fem! reader's POV (aka my POV). So basically it was me who are talking about Diluc to myself.

These headcanons are 100% based on my own fantasies and interpretations about Diluc. All of them are extremely PERSONAL. If you don't like them, it's fine and I respect whatever opinions you have. Just simply exit the post, but please don't be rude.

If you are okay with the above, please enjoy :)

Maid kink: He is so damn calm with all his maids in the winery but somehow gets aroused when seeing you in the maid outfit. Hmmm is that the reason why he has so many spare maid outfits in the storage...?

He’s busy but still a MAN so sometimes he fantasize about you and does SOME STUFF on his own to de-stress. He thinks you don't know about it but what if you actually do?

He likes to tie (and to be tied up by a certain someone maybe?) so he has a whole collection of belts, thigh straps, chains and other straps maybe idk (for himself or who knows…)

He takes care of his hair very well so they are fluffy all the time but does he know that his ponytail is so grabbable…? Imagine how his face will look like when you grab his fluffy red hair during your intimacies...

He likes to kiss you and to be kissed by you, very much. But when you kiss him with a whole bunch of people that both of you know he gets so shy. Try to tease and kiss the bartender and then do the same when only you two are in the tavern…You better be prepared.

This is very personal but Diluc exploring and fighting in Dragonspine just gets you all the time without any reasons. He creates flame and heat that will melt every inch of snow and ice. He usually wears black + along with his red hair flying in the snow and wind just makes the most beautiful scenery in all over teyvat… He’s gonna be so warm and bright and sure he wouldn’t mind making you warm OR you making him warmER in the way you both like.

Being born and raised in one of the prestigious aristocratic clans in Mondstadt, Diluc is very good at dancing and knows very well of those manners. But do you know he can sing as well? He would sing for you and dance with you, making you falling into his arms with his comforting voice. Someone said the song Sway is sang by Diluc and now you cannot unhear it…

Sometimes you think Diluc is wearing too many layers especially in the summer. Isn’t he hot??? But you also know that he would only wear a shirt with the buttons half done when not being in public or meeting guests and that’s so sexy of him??

He also wouldn’t mind you take his formal clothes off, destroy the rest of the buttons of his shirt (he has tons of them anyway), splash wine on his clothes or on him….and he would do the same to you afterwards.

Another one for the outfits he wears: The bartender attire! The gloves are not covering his wrists like what they are in his usual outfits and that’s so attractive to you. In addition the suits and the vest fit him so well and you can see the shape of his body. Just try to grab his uncovered wrist and pull off his glove when he handles the drinks to you…Will he be mad at you?

Okay you need to STOP fantasizing over his outfits and accessories but one last thing: His thigh straps. Diluc wears that in literally ANY of his outfit. You can’t help but wonder how he puts on and takes off that thing everyday…Hmmm how about sliding your hand into it and give it a try?

Diluc can swing his claymore (which is even bigger than himself) using only one hand. You are always amazing by how strong he is despite he never looks like he is strong. I mean just look at how slim and pretty he is. You wonder what it feels like to be pinned down by those slim-look yet secretly muscular arms.

Despite not being fond of alcohol, Diluc still enjoys making different drinks. He created a special drink just for you and told you if you forget the taste of it, he’d love to make it for you over and over again, anywhere and anytime. But guess what, this man loves teasing you and he will just drink it in front of you so there will be only one way for you to taste it.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader

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bella-rose29 · 3 months

Text

beautiful people

requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran?

lockwood x gn!reader (made it gn bc there wasn't a gender specified, hope that's alright anon <3)

I am so sorry that this took so long anon 😭😭😭

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: set after the empty grave but I don't think there are any actual spoilers (but you've been warned anyway), I think that's the only thing? edit: there is a very big huge massive spoiler that's mentioned in one sentence so be careful

tag list (I just copied and pasted from deck the halls bc I'm tired and couldn't be asked to search through everything, so feel free to not read this if you don't want to): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

Lockwood was buzzing with unreleased energy, which made sitting next to him on a plane incredibly difficult, since Y/n just wanted to punch him in the face. They loved him, but they didn't need his jitters when neither of the two of them had ever flown before, let alone been out of the country.

It was a private jet they sat in, the vehicle sent by some rich person from America who had invited the famous ghost hunting agency from England to a week in Los Angeles. While George had initially seemed sceptical of the plane and it's abilities to carry them safely across half the world, he'd deemed it good enough for travel. Lucy and Holly were joining them too, although both were far less happy about it than Lockwood.

"It's basically a huge shell of metal that hurtles through the air. Why do you think I've been for three nervous pees in the last ten minutes, George?!" Lucy had stressfully said to George after he had questioned her multiple trips to the toilet.

Y/n had gone along because Lockwood had asked, despite them having only a vague connection to the agency's work. As a member of the general public, they didn't often get involved in the actual ghost hunting (Talent had never turned up for them which meant fighting was extremely dangerous, and they quite preferred being alive), but often could spot things that the others couldn't when looking at the history of a building, or a family, or pick up on the more human things in meetings as opposed to being solely focused on the Visitors.

Their other link to the agency was a lot stronger, because they were dating Lockwood.

Naturally when he'd asked if Y/n would be joining them on the agency's one week trip to America they couldn't say no, not when he was smiling at them the way he had been, and now they found themselves wondering why the hell they let him have so much of a hold on their heart.

It was the middle of July, too, and there was a freak heatwave as they were leaving England. It was nothing compared to the temperatures they would be met with in L.A., but the English were never made for heat.

"Oi," Y/n said softly, prodding Lockwood in the leg closest to theirs. "Stop bouncing, you're making me more nervous."

He cast them a small smile, tilting his head to look at them. "Sorry, my love." They could tell he was nervous too despite all the smiles and bravado he'd shown earlier, more so than when he went out and risked his life every night, and they grabbed his hand.

"People do this all the time, right? And George very kindly worked out the likelihood of us dying in this thing-"

"One in a million chance!"

"Thank you, George!" Y/n sighed, turning back to Lockwood. "But my point is, we're gonna make it there, and then we'll have an incredible, completely free holiday, and then we'll make it back to Portland Row, alive and in one piece, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Hey. We're Lockwood and Co. And you're Anthony bloody Lockwood." He smiled wider at that, a huge grin taking over his face and making him light up.

"That we are," he replied, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead.

~~~

They had only been in America for about an hour, and already the agents were exhausted.

It didn't help that the plane journey was long, or that their internal body clocks were telling them it was well past their normal time to go to bed despite it being barely evening in Los Angeles. It seemed to be that the darker it got, the more people there were, which didn't make sense to any of the agents. While ghosts were no longer being created, many still hung around and caused fear, and it was strange for Lockwood and Co to be walking around in the dark with no rapiers, or even a spare flare.

Fancy cars drove past, one of them stopping (on the wrong side of the road; how did anyone drive correctly if they were doing it backwards?!) and opening its door to let the agents in. George squeezed in first, then went Y/n and Lockwood, and Lucy and Holly pushed their way into a seat a moment later. How they fit the five of them combined with the ten? eleven? people already in there Y/n wasn't sure. Music was blasting through speakers that weren't even visible (seriously, where was the music coming from?) and coloured lights flashed across the interior of the car. They had cars in England, of course, but this was much fancier than anything they had on their side of the world. People were drinking and dressed in fashion that looked futuristic to the five of them, and Y/n could feel the others shift in what little space they had as they looked down at their own clothes.

Then there were the questions.

At first it was difficult to understand their voices, since the accents were thick and everybody was talking at once, all trying to be heard over the music. Then it was difficult to answer their questions, because they were asking about phones and movies and music that none of them had much knowledge of in their technologically-different world. When they learned that Y/n wasn't even an agent, they wanted to know what exactly their role was, which was also difficult.

"He's my partner," they shouted (it was too loud to talk any quieter), pointing at Lockwood.

"So you're not... you're not an agent? You're just here?"

"Uh... yeah. I help on cases sometimes though!"

"Oh, cool!" the woman yelled, then immediately moved onto the next conversation. Y/n settled back against Lockwood, feeling his arm come around their shoulders. They looked at George, noting his bewilderment at the hidden speakers, and then at Lucy and Holly who were trying to figure out how to use the phone that someone had given them. It didn't even look like a phone; it was far too flat and small to be of any use to anyone.

They were all just trying to figure everything out, but even those who were being really nice to them could tell that the agents from London didn't fit in too well.

~~~

The party was far bigger than anything Fittes had ever thrown, and the five of them felt very underdressed, despite how fancy they had gone with their clothes.

Two hours in, Y/n was trapped in a conversation with a group of people about some event that had happened recently and was apparently a worldwide controversy, and they were being asked their opinion on it.

"Uh... I don't really know what's happening, to be honest." It was awkward, being looked at like they were some sort of alien, and Y/n felt themselves shrinking the longer they were stared at.

"Do you not have the news over in England?"

"We do, but normally it's... English news? Our technology got severely stumped growth-wise because of the whole 'there are ghosts now and they can kill you' thing, so..."

"Oh, yeah, sorry! I forgot that you guys are behind!" It wasn't said with any malice or anything, but it only served to make Y/n feel worse about not fitting in with these people. They tried to inconspicuously look around for Lockwood, but within seconds he had appeared at their side and was spewing some excuse about needing to borrow them.

He took them outside to a balcony, and although it was still crowded there was at least a cool breeze. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thank you for that."

"Anytime," he smiled, pressing a kiss to their cheek. He seemed jittery again, and Y/n wondered if all the flashiness was finally getting to him.

"Are you alright?" they asked, startling Lockwood slightly.

"Oh, yeah." He wasn't particularly convincing in his answer, and Y/n raised their eyebrows at him. "I mean, I know I'm always going on about being front page all the time, and getting famous, which we are on the front page, and we did get famous, but this is... it's a lot." He paused, looking around at everyone gathered on the balcony. "It feels... weird, too. I'm not sure what the right word is yet. Everyone is almost too fancy, if that makes sense."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I keep thinking I'm really underdressed and should borrow a really shiny bin bag instead," they joked, noting someone walking past who was dressed in something that looked very similar.

"You don't need to change a thing, my love. You look stunning as you are." Y/n felt their face heat up at his compliment, and hid their face in his body. His laugh made both of them shake, and his arms came around to hold them close to him. "I mean it. I don't think you could look more incredible if you tried."

"Lockwood," they whined, dragging out the syllables in his name as their face lit up more and more. "Stop it, seriously."

"What, I'm not allowed to tell my partner how wonderful they are?"

"Not this much in one go!" He only laughed again, and Y/n couldn't prevent the smile that came onto their own face.

~~~

Their last night had been spent much like the others, only this time it was only Lockwood and Y/n and the driver of the posh car they had been loaned for the week (once people remembered that the five English visitors couldn't drive, they had been provided with a driver as well as just the car).

The week was basically over, complete with drives in convertibles, gifts of expensive designer clothes, trips to fashion shows, constant questioning from people wanting to know who they were, and what they do, and who they know. George, Lucy, and Holly had stayed back at the hotel they were staying in, too tired to do anything else, but Lockwood had taken Y/n out, saying he wanted to spend their last night in Los Angeles together just the two of them.

They seemed to drive for hours, in reality not travelling that far from their friends, but the lack of destination meant that they were doing constant laps of the city. Not that it mattered, because neither Lockwood nor Y/n had any idea where anything was. Everything was tall, and imposing and fancy and bright and beautiful, and for the most part Y/n sat staring out the window, watching all the lights as they passed.

Lockwood was watching them, a fond smile on his face, seeing the lights reflected in their eyes like stars.

There had been constant lights the whole week, people with cameras at every event they attended, and while Lockwood was more used to bright things (since he had such strong Sight he often had to use sunglasses to stop the glare from a death glow), Y/n was squinting against the flashes. At one point Lockwood had brought out his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the sky, and handed one to Y/n while putting his own pair on his face. He kept his arms around their body at all times, whether it was just carelessly slung over their shoulders or tightly wrapped around their waist, because he didn't want to lose them in the crowds.

The agents really didn't fit in well in America, but they couldn't help it when they were just being themselves. He had figured out what the word he had been looking for on the balcony all those days ago was, too. He realised it as he gazed at Y/n, who had propped their face up on their hand, resting their elbow on the car door. All those people that they had met, at fashion shows and parties and everywhere else they had been, were too perfect, too fancy, too beautiful. It felt far too extravagant, even for Lockwood, and although he had thoroughly enjoyed his time in America he was looking forward to going home.

Because that's who Y/n was to him, and he knew that he was home to Y/n. It didn't matter if they went back to wearing their second hand clothes that were worn out and cheap, and it didn't matter if none of them understood how to use a smartphone by the time they left tomorrow morning, because that was who they were.

They were Lockwood and Co.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader

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jupitercomet · 2 years

Text

En Dessous de la Lune Qui Chante

summary - Getting married was supposed to be the best day of your life, the day you promised to spend forever with the person you loved. Though you knew very little about love, you’d always been excited for it, playing dress up with your sisters and dreaming of the day you would know love like the back of your hand. Now you were finally getting married and you knew two things for certain: you knew nothing of love and Bradley Bradshaw did not love you.

warnings - arranged marriage au, heavily inspired by Greta Gerwig’s Little Women because that movie has a choke hold on me, angst, Bradley is literally so mean, gender stereotypes, somewhat toxic family, brief mentions of blood, brief mention of drinking

word count - 3.7k

genuinely don’t know where this came from, I just started writing it and then bam. I’m splitting it into parts now because I have a feeling it’s going to be way too long lol (also I know I have a problem with starting series but I promise I’ll finish them)

je te laisserai des mots masterlist

There was something so entirely haunting about love.

Maybe it was the weight put into a simple word consisting of two vowels and two consonants. Maybe it was the way people seemed to chase it so swiftly, as if nothing else could possibly matter. Maybe it was merely the fact that love was nothing more than a concept— a reaction of chemicals, a guess of a feeling.

You didn’t know much about love, on rare occasions you questioned its very existence. But you knew enough to know that, whatever it was, no one had ever felt that way about you.

A thought that would have been far less damaging had there not been a shiny engagement ring weighing down your ring finger.

As a little girl, you used to dream of your wedding day like an intricate mosaic. You imagined chairs lined with wild flowers, twinkling fairy lights woven throughout the room, soft pastels against cream whites. You’d find your mother’s old cotton curtains, wrapping them around yourself like a pastry and prancing around the attic with bare feet you imagined in elegant glass slippers— you’d just read Cinderella.

Your sisters would laugh at you, before wrapping themselves in their own curtains, or one of your father’s old suits, in Charlie’s case. Rosaline was the flower girl, Margo gave you away, Edith was your maid of honor, and Charlie was the officiant. You’d walk down the imaginary aisle of your attic, Margo and Edith would pretend to cry, Rosaline would pout that her role in the wedding was over, and Charlie would marry you to an imaginary man who you knew loved you very much.

“When’s it my turn to get married?” Rosaline would complain, looking wistfully at the white curtain you’d now folded up.

“When you stop believing that the most important part of your wedding is the cake,” Margo responded, gently disentangling the braids she’d put in your hair.

You and Edith erupted into giggles and Charlie looked equally as amused as Rosaline let out a cry of protest.

“But it is! Oh, I do hope mine is covered in buttercream.”

Now, sitting in your sage green dress, smiling politely at the guests attending your engagement party, you wished more than anything to be back in your attic wrapped up in your mother’s white, cotton curtains.

“Why so sad, dear sister of mine?” Edith plopped not so elegantly in the chair next to you, resting her head on your shoulder as you both watched the mingling guests. Though her words were meant to be light with teasing, they were quite heavy instead, falling like led as she reached for your hand.

You let out a quiet sigh, knowing that if you said the wrong thing there was a good chance you’d start crying. “I’m not sad. Just saying goodbye, I suppose.”

“To the freedom of womanhood?”

You offered Edith a smile. “To my dream wedding.”

“Don’t say that,” Edith chastised softly, squeezing your hand. “The wedding hasn’t even happened yet and the Mitchells have been kind enough to cover every expense.”

You sent her another smile — much sadder this time — eyes glassing over in the very way you were afraid of. “I’m marrying a man who does not love me, Edith. I’d trade in all of the Mitchells’ jewels and silks and just wear mother’s old curtains if it meant I could marry a man that loved me.”

Edith lifted a finger, wiping softly under your lash line, looking at you resolutely. “Any man who doesn’t love you is foolish. And if Bradley really is that much of a fool, I will whisk you away from him myself.”

You giggled softly. “Don’t tell Rosaline, but I picked a buttercream cake.”

“Married and a buttercream wedding cake?” Edith let out a dramatic gasp, joining your giggles. “Oh, she’ll die of jealousy.”

Pressing a finger to your lips, you looked around the venue for your other sister.

Unsurprisingly, Rosaline was nodding along excitedly to the words of one of Bradley’s friends. At least, you thought he was one of Bradley’s friends. Bradley had never introduced you— to do that would require acknowledging your existence. You’d seen him come up to Bradley though, congratulate him, and you certainly didn’t know him, so you felt safe in assuming his connection to your fiancé.

Fiancé. What a strange, strange word.

“Come,” Edith patted your thigh, pulling you out of your reverie. “We should mingle before mother gets upset.”

You pursed your lips. “Must we? I’d rather just stay here with you forever.”

Edith placed a kiss on your temple. “I want to get a fruit tart before Edwin eats them all.”

Letting out a soft breath, you followed your sister to the table that refreshments had been set up on, training your face to stay happy and poised. You were getting married, after all. To Bradley Bradshaw. A man who did not love you.

You quickly shot back a flute of champagne.

“You must be the future bride,” a voice spoke from behind you and you had to physically stop your shoulders from sagging. “Forgive me for not congratulating you sooner.”

Turning around, you were met with a tall, tanned blond smiling at you politely. You recognized him almost instantly, having been one of the men that Rosaline had been excitedly listening to— one of Bradley’s friends.

He held his hand out. “I’m Jacob, but you can call me Jake. And you must be Charlotte.”

You stiffened, clearing your throat uncomfortably. “Ah, no, that’s my sister.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you told him your own name. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off more harshly than intended. “I’m sure we look alike.”

Jake nodded slowly even though you both knew that was not the reason he mistook you for your sister. “Well, I will never again make the mistake of misplacing someone as beautiful as yourself.”

You only smiled politely.

“I hate this,” Charlie wrinkled her nose in disgust, yanking at the frilly sleeves of her dress. “How much longer until I can take this thing off of me?”

Your mother clucked her tongue, a warning sound that always meant you and your sisters were becoming too comfortable in a room. “Behave, Charlotte.”

Charlie slumped back in her chair with a huff, but stayed silent. She didn’t even argue when your mother called her “Charlotte”. The six of you were sitting quietly in a row of uncomfortable chairs, watching the officiant set himself up in the front of the church as you all waited for the wedding to start.

Your mother had put all of you in dresses — “Everyone knows weddings are for other people to get married” — and you’d gotten one with the heaviest overskirt you’d ever had the displeasure of wearing. You were certain your thighs were probably slippery with sweat. Charlie had gotten off fairly easy — even your mother knew her limits — but the dress was fuchsia pink, a color much too eye-catching for Charlie’s taste.

You didn’t entirely understand the fuss either, you only knew the bride and groom because your mother told you that you knew them. Apparently you were distantly related to the bride— a third cousin twice removed or something. Still, you went without complaint, because that’s what your mother expected of you, and, when you did that, the weddings usually weren’t terrible.

This one didn’t have any wild flowers or twinkling fairy lights, but you were excited to see the dress of the bride and the face of the groom when he finally saw her take those steps down the aisle. You knew Rosaline was still holding out hope about the cake— you’d try to sneak her half of yours because she didn’t make a fuss when your mother gave Margo a prettier dress than her.

“Weddings are stupid,” Charlie grumbled quietly. “I’m never going to get married.”

“You’re all getting married,” your mother snipped, not letting your sister’s words hang in the air for even a second. “And you will as soon as Margo does.”

Charlie opened her mouth to protest, but you squeezed her hand.

“When you get married, I’ll sneak you one of father’s suits,” you whispered in her ear. “Imagine how livid mother will be to see you walk down the aisle in a suit.”

Charlie had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop her laughter.

You bit your lip softly, your own reflection taunting you in the mirror. A white dress wrapped around your body, far more expensive and beautiful than your mother’s old curtains. It almost felt too beautiful— like you weren’t worthy of wearing it. Like it wasn’t yours, that Penny Mitchell had helped you pick it out by accident, mistaking you for someone else. Mistaking you for Charlie.

You closed your eyes, releasing your bottom lip from your teeth before you made it bleed.

Maybe this dress wasn’t meant for you, but you were the one wearing it. You were the one making sacrifices. You were the one attempting not to cry because, try as you might, you couldn’t feel beautiful in your own wedding dress. The mirror still mocked you when you opened your eyes.

Perhaps if you were taller, Charlie had always been taller than you. She had this way of standing that made her seem like an explorer coming back from a daring adventure, hands animated and eyes alight as she told you stories of her tales. You tried to emulate it— straightening your back, bending one knee slightly. It looked stupid in a wedding dress and you supposed that’s where you and Charlie differed. She would never wear a wedding dress.

There was a knock on your door. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, eyes locked on your reflection, before realizing the person behind the door couldn’t see you. “Yes.”

Margo stepped in slowly, looking at you with a gasp. “You look beautiful.”

You matched her expression, nearly tripping over yourself to give her a hug. “You came.”

“Of course, I came,” she stroked your hair lovingly. “I wouldn’t miss my little sister’s wedding for the world.”

You hid your face in the crook of her neck, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“I hate this,” you whispered.

Margo hugged you tighter. “I know.”

“Do you know if—” You lifted your head. “Is she here?”

Margo pursed her lips sadly. “She sent me a letter that she wouldn’t be attending. She couldn’t face him, not after everything. She told me to tell you ‘thank you’.”

You sucked in a breath, unsure how to feel. “Why did it have to be me?”

Margo smoothed some of the hair at your hairline. “Because you’re the best of us.”

“I don’t want to be,” you laughed sadly, before clearing the air with a sniff. “But how are you? How’s Thomas?”

“We’re lovely,” Margo smiled and you could tell she meant it. It made you feel better, to know she was loved in a way you probably wouldn’t be. “So don’t fret about us. How are Edith and Rosaline?”

You laughed. “They’re well. I think the only person truly excited about this is Rosaline, she’s been trying to get quite chummy with Bradley’s friends now that she is one step closer to getting engaged.”

Margo raised her brows with a smile. “Are they entertaining it?”

“Not in the slightest,” you giggled. “I don’t even think they realize what she’s doing.”

“Oh Rosie,” Margo sighed teasingly. “And what of Edith and Robert?”

“She’s not spoken of him much. He’s at the academy and I think she misses him,” you frowned softly. “But he’s set to come back soon and the Floyd’s are wealthy enough that I don’t think mother or father will have a problem with their engagement.”

“And how do you feel?” Margo looked at you knowingly.

“Happy,” your smile was strained. “I wouldn’t want any of you to go through this as well.”

“That’s not fair to you—”

“Well, someone has to,” you snapped, stopping yourself with a breath. “Someone has to and it isn’t going to be Charlie.”

Margo pulled you into another tight hug. “I’d give you away if I could, so imagine I’m doing it now.”

You swallowed thickly, vision beginning to blur. “I wish she’d have come.”

“I don’t think she realizes just how much you’re sacrificing for her,” Margo explained. “How much both of you are sacrificing for her.”

“I don’t want to be angry with her,” you whispered. “But she’s making it so hard not to be.”

“I know,” Margo pulled away slowly at the sound of another knock on your door — your father, it was time — wiping gently at your eyes. “And that’s why you’re the best of us.”

Your left hand felt heavier than it had since you’d received Bradley’s engagement ring. Now, tucked under it, was a thin, silver band, identical to the one on Bradley’s own finger. He was sitting next to you, eyes taking in the crowd, back taught as though the mere idea of being in your company was bringing him displeasure. You supposed you couldn’t fault him for that.

With a sigh, you rolled a baby carrot around with your fork. You could hear your mother chastising you— “You’re far too old to be playing with your food!”. But you were only a bride once and you should be allowed to do whatever you wanted today. Even if it was staring miserably at your garden salad.

“Is something the matter, Mrs. Bradshaw?” Bradley’s gruff voice surprised you when he addressed you suddenly. Though he still refused to look at you.

You pursed your lips. “You know my name.”

Bradley looked at you then, just for a moment, before turning back to your dancing guests. “People are going to think your unhappy if you keep looking like that, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

He stressed the title as if to make it very clear to you: you may now be his wife, but you would never be his wife.

You swallowed, forcing a smile. “My apologies, I never meant to give off that impression.”

Bradley only nodded absentmindedly and, though he wasn’t even looking at you, you could tell you’d surprised him a bit. Perhaps he expected you to fight with him. It’s what Charlie would have done.

“Excuse me,” and then Edith was in front of you like a shining lighthouse, guiding you out of the dark with a polite, forced smile to you husband. “Do you mind if I steal her away for a dance?”

Bradley shook his head. “Be my guest.”

“Perhaps you should have married him,” you tried to joke when the two of you made it to the dance floor. “He seems to like you more than me.”

Edith didn’t even grant you a laugh, instead looking at you with eyes poorly masking pity. “I love you so much. Do you know that?”

“Edith—”

“And when Robert comes back, we’ll be married and I’ll come take you away and you can live with us and I’ll get you all the art supplies money can buy and you’ll never be sad again—”

“Edith.” You interrupted her firmly. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not!” She insisted, trying to keep her voice quiet. “He’s so cold. He wasn’t like that with—”

Your face fell and she cut herself off.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shook your head. “You’re right. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re married now and he is my husband. It was either you or me and I would never force this choice on you.”

Edith grumbled, twirling you slowly. “It should have been Charlie.”

You cast a glance at your husband, who was conversing lightly with Pete Mitchell, his face stoic. “But she didn’t love him, not like he loved her. I could never do that to him either.”

You sucked in a breath.

“Now then, let’s speak of something else before I cry on my wedding day.”

The music livened and Edith’s twirls became faster and faster. Before you knew it, Margo and Rosaline had joined the two of you and it was almost like when you were kids— playing make believe in the attic, wrapped up in curtains, and grinning so wide it hurt your cheeks. For a moment, they were all that mattered. For a moment, you could forget that your dream wedding would remain just that, make believe.

You’d moved into the Bradshaw estate almost immediately, nearly holding back tears as you said goodbye to Edith and Rosaline. Edith promised to visit you often, something Bradley didn’t seem to mind when he heard it and it gave you some hope— he wasn’t heartless. Your mother and father gave you a cordial goodbye, you didn’t expect much more from them.

You knew they were grateful— had it not been for you, their arrangement with the Mitchells would have fallen through entirely. But you also knew that they expected this of you, to pick up where your sister lacked, they didn’t care that all you had ever wanted was love. Charlie had made her choice and you were suffering the consequences.

It took only a breath after your family departed for Bradley to turn to you, eyes practically stone. You watched him anxiously, hands still gripping one of your bags of luggage.

“You will move your things up to the master bedroom,” Bradley commanded you and you had to stop yourself from reacting in surprise. “Pete is telling me I have to give this an honest effort and I have no doubt he’s planning on questioning the staff to ensure I keep to my word. We will sleep in the same bed and be seen at the same events, but that is the extent of our marriage.”

Bradley Bradshaw was many things, patient was not one of them. He’d become accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted, the way he wanted. And when he surrounded himself with only his most trusted friends, like Reuben and Mickey who could read and translate even the smallest twitch in his expression, he also got used to getting those things with very little communication. So when he wanted you to pick up your luggage, find something to entertain yourself that didn’t involve him, and, for the love of god, stop looking at him like that, and you just stood frozen and wide eyed in his grand entryway, his lips pursed in increased agitation.

He cleared his throat, the noise causing your eyes to jump up to his gaze, and your grip fumbled on your bag. The whole thing slid out of your grip, opening on its impact to the ground and you gathered your skirts quickly, moving to repack everything.

“I’m sorry—”

He waved it off with one hand, effectively shutting you up. An apology was not what he wanted from you and it was bothering him that you couldn’t understand that.

In the back of his mind, he could hear his mother chastising him. Warm, loving Carol Bradshaw clicking her tongue at him with a shake of her head. “Nobody’s a mind reader, Bradley. You’ve got a voice box. Use it.” Bradley would argue that Reuben, Mickey, and Natasha could read his mind just fine, but he knew better than to challenge the authority of his mother— her tangibility be damned.

He let out a heavy sigh, which, again, made you flinch slightly. “Do you want to unpack your things?”

“Of course,” you relatched your bag, standing up with a much firmer grip on it, moving to follow where some of the staff was taking the rest of your luggage.

You made it up three stairs before you stopped yourself.

“Bradley?” You asked softly, as if still debating your request.

Charlie would never do that. She always knew what she wanted and was confident enough to believe she deserved it.

“Yes?” He replied, boredly.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you looked out one of the widows. “I’d love an easel.”

Bradley pursed his lips, unsure what about your request bothered him so much. If it gave you something to do, it would be easier to avoid you.

“I’ll have one set up for you.”

The charcoal felt malleable between your fingers. You knew it wasn’t— that, if you tried to shape it, it would just crumble onto the paper on your lap. But as it sat between your thumb and your first and second fingers, it did feel like you could make anything you wanted with it. You brought it down to the paper unsurely. The patchy black was permanent, inerasable, and you didn’t want to ruin the only page you’d brought to sketch on because you’d started drawing without a plan.

“Bradshaw!”

Charlie’s shriek sounded down the beach, causing you to look up in mild surprise. Your sister was standing in the ocean, water up to her ankles, looking at Bradley Bradshaw with what seemed to be playful offense.

“Miss Simpson,” you raised your eyebrows because Charlie never let anyone call her “Miss Simpson” — “It makes people believe that I wish to be married, that I dream of being a Mrs. Someone else. I don’t.” — but, in this instance she didn’t seem to mind at all. “You’ve wounded me.”

Bradley dropped to his knees, not seeming to mind the ocean water wetting his pants. “Are we not cordial? Nay, are we not friends? Why must you speak to me like we are unacquainted?”

Charlie scoffed. “You splashed me, Mr. Bradshaw. A criminal offense if I’ve ever seen one.”

“‘Mr. Bradshaw’?” Bradley threw a hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh, forgive me, Charlie Simpson! Forgive me, forgive me— and I swear to never make you unhappy again.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie shook her head with a laugh, pulling the lamenting boy up from his knees. “Utterly ridiculous.”

You watched them for a moment longer, eyes softening as they continued to splash in the water. Hesitantly, you pressed the charcoal down on your page, following the angles and divots of Bradley’s face. You drew his smile lines, that endearing gleam in his eye. You traced the bridge of his nose and each of his curls, trying to capture how he played in the ocean with your sister like a joyful cherub. When you were done, you set the charcoal down, taking in your sketch with a small frown.

You didn’t get his smile right.

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