#I'd die happily mirrored in those eyes

[nebbyy]

Random question. Do you think Baldwin would like puppies or kittens better

King Baldwin - Cats or dogs?

A/N: Mmmmh hard one, took me almost half a day to think about it😭😭 Loved the idea though, I think that this question and the reasoning behind its answer tell a lot about a person.

Couldn't find the name of the painting this time but the painter is by Henriette Ronner-Knip!!

Warning: puppies, but mostly kitties. Jokes aside I took the liberty of adding some historical inaccurate facts about cats' presence in medieval castles just to make the story more fit to my taste (not like historical accuracy is really the point of a fanfic but you get my point).

I'm still really torn but I'd say that it depends on which time of his life that question is asked

If it's during his childhood and first youth, he'd say dogs with no hesitation. They're great companions and so full of life, he'd love to bring a few with him during his hunting trips. He would see his own sprout of energy mirrored in his pawed companions! I see him as owning at least two of them, maybe even more (having almost a pack of dogs was pretty much the norm in noble families)

Dogs are also perceived better by Christian society, as there were quite a few theologists who believed that cats where somehow tied to unholiness or even the devil himself

But as time goes by and his condition worsens, he can't bring himself to stand for so long, let alone play with the dogs or take them out while he rides his horse

He feels bad, though, at the sound of their whines as his servants shoo them out of his bedroom, while he lays motionlessly on his huge bed (in which he usually let them lay while he rested, much to his servants' dismay)

And it is right as he's left laying there, alone and with an aching heart at the loss of his dear friends, that he for the first time notices the gentle meow of his physician's cat. He never really acknowledged his existence, for he always seemed to make it his mission to be as invisible to the people in the room as possible

The cat looked him with mil interest: of course, he knew him, but Baldwin couldn't say the same. He had been silently studying the young king, as his master tended to his everlasting wounds, or as he distracted himself form his duties with a game of chess. All while Baldwin didn't even know that the cat was in the room in the first place

Their exchanged stare didn't last long, because soon the cat jumped swiftly on the bed, waggling his tail like an enchanted snake as he made a few steps on top of the covers

He inspects the space, undisturbed by Baldwin who can't bring himself to make even the slightest movement because of how exhausted his sickness makes him

Finally, the cat seems to find a spot to his liking, right on the spot between Baldwin's side and arm, which is splayed on the side of the bed

The cat makes a few circles before snuggling close to his clothed side, resting his head on his own tail and quietly purring himself to sleep, soon followed by the king himself

That was their first official encounter, one that changed Baldwin's answer at the question "cats or dogs"

He also came to find that apparently there were far more cats in palace

In his late years, he found in those cats a silent and delicate company, it created a space in which he could let go of everything and just bask into the presence of those little balls of fur

And they are so agile and elegant in their movements, he enjoys watching them move around his room, jumping from a surface to the other like it's nothing; he feels like he can move and live through them

And he misses them oh so badly when they leave his chamber to go hunt for food or to simply explore the palace, but as they happily walk back in his room and curl up to rest all over his bed and desk, he almost feels like they're telling him all they've seen during the day simply through their eyes

And that is how Baldwin IV was born a dog person, only to die surrounding his death bed with cats

[mrs-weasley-reid]

CHOPPY STICKS

Spencer Reid x asian!reader

Synopsis: Feeling embarrassed by his shortcomings in his chopsticks skillset, an eager Spencer Reid turns to you for a lesson. Word Count: 1k+ WARNING: fluff <3 a lot of Asian cultures use chopsticks despite it not being the main tableware they use on a daily basis, so feel free to imagine what you want 🤗 I just made sure to use food (k-bbq bc i was enjoying one while writing lol) that emphasizes the use of chopsticks because imagine Reid eating an uncut 8 oz steak with a chopstick, he'd die from hunger or eat like a caveman A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST, so sorry it took me a while, please forgive this author

"My hand's starting to cramp."

Spencer pouts, gripping his wrist with his other hand in the hope that it'll lessen the pain from the incoming cramp. His brows clash against each other in sheer focus. He holds his breath as if he's underwater and the air is liquid.

You stifle a laugh as you pop in another brisket, happily munching on the feast in front of you. All while the dessert tortures himself with two wooden sticks.

It's been an hour since Spencer knocked on your door with Korean takeout and twelve pairs of disposable chopsticks he'd—you aren't sure, but quite convinced—stolen from whatever Chinese restaurant he's been to after coming back from a case.

"Teach me how to use these," He said exasperatedly. "And don't use the rubber band trick on me. JJ already did, and it doesn't work on me." He added, opening one pair and unsuccessfully separating them. One end was thicker than the other. He groaned at the sight, clutching one stick on each hand.

You teach him just how to, instructing him step by step through words and mirroring presentations. The first five minutes were fine. The next ten were a bit frustrating. And the thirtieth was your final attempt. You settled on the advice of "try until you get used to it" and began to indulge in his bribe while he struggled to get a bite.

And now, here you are thirty more minutes later. Spencer with not one progress and three spares of chopsticks left.

Wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin, you chuckle, "Why are you so obsessed with learning this of all things, anyway? Fork's not doing it for you anymore?" You place your chin at the base of your non-dominant hand, flailing chopsticks with the other. "There's a lot of cooler things to learn, you know? Like... how to speak Japanese or Thai. That's cool."

You know he's familiar with every language already. But you also know that he only dabbles but is never fluent unless he actually wants to. He's asked you to teach him your native tongue before, and while the sentiment is sweet, you had a hard time teaching him yourself. Turns out you're not intellectually fluent in your language. Not that you needed to be.

Spencer manually readjusts the sticks in his hand, sparing you a glance. "I'm already familiar with most of those. I know a lot about Asian cultures. But this, I just can't get it—" His hand shakes, a piece of fermented cabbage pinched between the chopsticks.

The kimchi drops on the table with a splatter.

He groans, slumping his body against the back of his seat. After a few seconds of sulking and an internal tantrum, Spencer straightens up to find you shoving a handful of vermicelli into your mouth.

"How are you doing that?" Spencer exclaims, pointing the chopsticks at you accusatorily. He's not even close to judgemental. More so amused and utterly amazed by the skill he so wished to possess.

You drop your hand and roll your eyes, chewing to your heart's content until your mouth is empty. "Because I'd be smacked with a thicker wood if I dropped a single grain of rice." You deadpan, reaching to the small platter of kimchi on his side of the table.

Spencer chews on the inside of his cheek. "Sorry..." He mumbles, poking a steamed dumpling right at its center.

His face becomes sullen, shoving food in his mouth with a frown. Spencer dramatically sighs with each piece of dish that reaches the land of his tongue.

You take a small cut of pork belly and stretch your arm to align with his mouth. Spencer lifts his gaze at you with a pout, shifting back and forth to the end of your tableware and your smiley face. He slightly pulls back, rejecting your offer. But you aren't one to easily give up, propping your other hand on the table to reach closer. And with a silent gesture to say 'ahh,' he folds and takes the bite.

"Can't you teach me a little longer? I really want to learn how to use chopsticks." He says between chews.

You roll your eyes once more, fighting the smile on your lips. He really wants to learn. A sigh comes out of you. How can you say no when he's flashing those big, adorable brown eyes and irresistible pout?

"Alright, fine.” You take a long sip from your drink, getting off your seat.

Spencer knits his brows, “Do we have to stretch first? Is that what I’ve been missing?” He turns to you dumbfoundedly, watching you come closer.

You pause, mouth agape. “What— No! You dummy!” You giggle, lightly pushing his shoulder.

He laughs, too, flashing his all-too-playful grin. He’s kidding.

What a dork. You think to yourself as you feel yourself falling deeper into the clever man you love like a lifeline. 

You take the spot behind his seat but also next to him, enveloping Spencer in your arms. “Stretch your hand,” You start, doing exactly what your instructions say for him to mirror. “Okay, good. I’ll put one chopstick on your thenar space. Then you’re going to pinch it with the base of your thumb and let the other end rest on top of your ring finger.” You nod next to his ear, fanning your breath all over his nape.

The sensation is hot against his skin. Spencer's ears perk with every syllable, taking in the information as is without logic. He hums and nods at your command like a robot who craves your approval.

Through time, you discover that the only way Spencer's ever attentive to you is when you're too close to him. His mind loses the ability to question your every move and blindly follow everything that comes out of your mouth instead.

Multiple praises immediately follow. Good job, babe. Working so great, sweetheart. My smart boy. And so on.

It takes you roughly three minutes to set up the sticks in his hand without him stiffening. Another five to get his hand to actually move without messing with the placements of the objects between his fingers.

After what felt like years, which is only a fifteen-minute time multiplied by four, Spencer finally brings a been sprout into his mouth without your hand on his.

“You did it!” You cheer, kissing his cheek with pride. “So proud of you, handsome!” 

Spencer smugly grins with his mouth closed, skin burning at the sound of your compliments like a puppy in your hold. “I have a really good teacher.” He beams.

A bright laugh vibrates out of you, playfully rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s see, you use metal chopsticks.” You tease, coming back to your seat.

His smile immediately fades, dropping a pickled daikon radish halfway through his mouth.

“The metal ones?”

reid masterlist | full masterlist

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[aio-rya]

"Iris" — Malleus x f!Reader

「Requested by: Anon」

『This is the Iris version I used for this songifc, I felt it was perfect』

ー・Φ・ー

And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now

Once again, his path brought him to the human child's dorm. It looked so different by daylight, the view of the old building was not that bad but night in that place had another meaning: his encounters with his little mortal. He was unbelievable about his thoughts, flying around her, as if he could smell her sweet perfume and feeling the tip of her fingers grabbing his coat. A little laugh scaped through his lips as he turned around, taking his leave —unexpectedly, he spotted someone sleeping under a tree near the path that led to main street.

As he walked by, he realised it was his little human friend. She was so peaceful and quiet while sleeping, her pale eyelids and her pink lips made her look so innocent, like a porcelain doll. Avoiding any kind of noise, he sat down next to her, under the fresh shadow of the tree. He remained there the whole afternoon, watching over her sleep and even humming a lullaby he remembered Lilia used to sing for Silver.

Malleus was fighting with the impulse of caressing her soft skin, startled when she, still sleeping, moved her head near to his legs. Babbling quietly on her sleep.

"Tsuno-chan..."

As the sun was setting on the horizon, on the opposite side to where he and his beloved girl were facing, she woke up —even then, sleepy, she was beautiful.

"You look like an angel" he whispered, putting his book down on his legs while she sat down.

"How long have you been here?" she asked with drowsy voice, yawning.

He chuckled, "long enough to take care of you."

"Then, you are my guardian angel" she answered, getting nearer.

"I am no angel. I have lived in a cold, enormous and empty castle for centuries. But having a friend, loving someone like you... That is the nearest thing I have to heaven" he muttered, as if he was afraid of those words.

She smiled and his heart beat increased.

"Should we get inside?" she asked, standing up as he pulled her arm. Her tiny body landed over Malleus' legs.

"I'd rather stay here with you" he said, lifting her ching with a finger. "Do you feel it? The cold shiver running down your spine?"

She remained quiet as he started getting near, mixing their breathing. Is he going to...

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered almost against her lips.

She stared at his beautiful green dragon eyes, then at his lips, lightly blushed.

"You."

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

They saw stars shining in the distance as night covered the sky, cold wind caressed their skin as moonlight witnessed their long unspoken love. Life was so different before, without him, and for the great prince, it was too without her. Everything he knew was loneliness as he only had Lilia by his side, for eternity, while the human lifes passed by in the blink of an eye. He never really cared about them, the sons of men, since there were millions and almost everyone of them were similar.

But she. She was an exception. He was condemned to the hell of a life that would last eons, such as Lilia, he will live as the people he loved died —and now, he was afraid of losing her, the young lady who laid down on his chest, the one who never feared him, the so daring and brave human he was holding between his arms.

"What is it, Tsunotaro?" she whispered, tightening her hold over his waist.

"You will never learn, won't you?" he laughed, kissing her forehead. "What should it be?" he answered, trying to keep the mysterious atmosphere.

"You hold your breath when you're worried" she stated, burying her nose on the collar of his shirt.

"How would you know that?" he asked, giggling. Oh, how happy she was, since no one but her coulg listen to him like that. So... Tender.

"I was told by a little bird~" she crooned, lifting her head.

"A silver one, pheraphs~?" he followed her tone, mischievously.

"Pheraphs not" she laughed, laying over him, looking straight into his beautiful emerald eyes, "What is worrying you, my king?"

My king, he taught. You only called him like that when you were serious.

"Human life is... Ephemeral. It has and end, sooner or later. That's why you live every moment with such intensity, so you can leave this life without regrets" Malleus started explaining, caressing her plum lips with his cold finger, "You treasure every important memory, every true love's kiss, every reward earned after taking a risk... And yet, we the faes live long enough to remember our humans with love and pain."

"Is... Is this some kind of... Farewell?" the young one asked, with some tears stuck on her throat.

"It is not. If fact... I want to do as you" he smiled, holding the back of her head, getting near to her face, "I want to engrave this moment with fire on my heart. Your smell, the smoothness of your skin, the taste of your lips..." his voice was deeper, not sad but nostalgic, his lips dangerously close to hers, "Breathing the same atmosphere as you."

He leaned forward to catch her between his lips, cold but sweet, tender but needy, fragile as strong. She was breathless, speechless —it was a feeling none of them had experienced ever before.

"I want to remember this night, so I won't ever miss you again. I want to remember every inch of you forever."

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

"If that is what makes her happy, I'm willing to sacrifice my own happiness" he stated with powerful but polite voice, staring blankly at the letter on the table aside him.

"You have surely grown up, Malleus" certain ancient fae answered with a gleam of proud on his voice, leaning forward, putting his hands over the prince's shoulders. "But you will not be happy with her choise, you can lie her. But you can't lie yourself."

"I--"

"I know. Life is not as fairytales, you may feel you are near your 'happily ever after', but fate is unpredictable" Lilia spoke before his ward could, trying to understand how he must have been feeling about losing her, his beloved human child.

"I'm fine" Malleus stated once again. "I can't allow myself to break down, it is not proper of the Heir of the Valley of Thorns". He was lying to himself and he was clearly aware of that, not even his guardian, who knew him as the hilt of his very own sword, could be fooled by his unconcerned visage.

"Malleus... If you need to release those feelings, I--"

"It's fine, Lilia. I'll be fine. There's no need for crying nor overthinking the situation" he stood up from the chair at the Diasomnia's dinning room and made his way toward the door. "I'll take my leave. I need to prepare a farewell gift for the Child of Men. That is proper from a Prince."

I never mentioned crying, my dear. The short fae thought with a sigh , taking the letter between his fingers while walking towards the main door of the castle.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

"What is this?" she asked, taking the black velvety box Malleus handled out to her.

"A gift. A farewell gift" he said bitterly, also tenderly as the eyes of her human watered.

"F-fare...wel..." she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. "So it is true? Are you willing to sacrifice your own happiness for letting me go, then? I... I can't. An eternity thinking about this moment, heavier than our memories together..."

"We have to fulfil our own duties. And you have a world waiting for you" he insisted, taking a few steps back.

"I have a world waiting for me, but it is not in the other side of the mirror. It is here, with you" her voice was shaking.

"You are a human. Your life is as fragile as a leaf... It is made to break, you are made to die."

"That's how life works."

He suddenly felt her hands trying to reach his face, tip toeing because of the height difference. She lifted a black hair strand from his forehead, revealing his birth marks and caressing them with her thumb; he was astonished.

"You truly are a fearless human" he said, recovering from the initial shock. Leaning forward for her to touch his whole skin.

"I don't have to fear you" her eyes were now closed, as he made possible to touch each other forehead, "I know you. I've walked with you... Even in my dreams."

Her arms surrounded Malleus as she held him tightly, burying her nose on his neck.

"Even if the world doesn't see what I do, I will still love you. And if you ask me, I will stay. I don't care if they never understand, I don't mean they do--"

She was silenced by a sudden kiss. Something she never expected to be so rough yet too careful.

"And this is my gift to you: I will always love you..."

"Until my last breath."

ー・Φ・ー

It has been a while since my last songifc. So... It's up to you guys, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

[lawrising-a]

( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Trials of Emi

Pairing: A little Minho. A sprinkle of Frypan. Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, her twin brother Thomas, and a small group of gladers had been rescued and taken to a safe haven. Or so it seemed. It doesn't take long for Thomas to realize something is wrong. What happens next is a true trial for all of them but Emi's trials began the moment she was ripped away from a dying Gally. Watching someone you love die right before your eyes truly takes a toll.

Finally meeting the right arm could have been the end but betrayal leads to even more chaos and loss. A new mission to rescue those taken from them leads them to a city. The last city. After Emi finally comes to terms with everything that's happened something unfolds that changes everything again. She will have to not only deal with helping her brother take down WCKD and save their friend but also deal with all the new problems in her head and her heart.

Rating: As of right now it’s at most PG13. Some strong language that’s about it but it could change.

(This is the 2nd part/book to my other story "The Maze trials: A Gally Fanfiction". This will cover the events of the scorch trails and the death cure.)

Chapter Eleven

As the sun started to set I met Fry at his makeshift cooking area. We didn't want to actually build anything cause we were constantly on the move. So we set a small area up so Fry could work his magic every morning and night. It was nice to have his cooking again. Oddly enough his cooking made where ever we were at the time feel a little more like home.

"Where's Thomas and Newt?" I asked him as I came to stand next to him.

He handed me a few discolored and chipped plates. I sat them down in front of me.

"Back there" he nodded with his head as a smile spread across his face.

I looked back to see my brother and best friend sitting practically on top of each other. Their heads were close together as they had a whispered conversation. I smiled when I noticed their intertwined fingers resting on Thomas' lap.

"About damn time" I whispered turning back to Fry.

The boy next to me laughed.

"How long have you suspected that?" Fry asked me.

"Since the beginning" I chuckled.

I helped Fry finish up what he was doing. Once everything was done he told me to give the call.

"Grub is up everyone!" I shouted.

Everyone dropped what they were doing then made their way over to me and Fry. I helped him fill the plates with food then pass them out to everyone. Fry and I were the last to grab our plates then join the group around the fire. I sat next to Thomas with Fry on my other side.

"You two look very friendly." I whispered to Thomas.

He chuckled then shook his head.

"Very friendly" he said with a grin.

It had been only a few short weeks since we lost Minho, Aris, Sonja, and countless others. The atmosphere around what was left of us had slowly loosened. There was still some tension especially when we were in the middle of following a lead. I had spent most of the time staying busy. Whatever needed to be done I was doing it. From sorting supplies to helping Fry cook and serve the food. Fry had been the one person I'd spent most my time talking to. It was mostly just random conversations like what was happening in and around the camp. It was a nice way to spend the time. As long as I wasn't thinking about everything that had happened.

After everyone was finished eating we all pitched in to finish loading everything up. We were heading out at first light. Our goal was to get to some dock Vince had told us about. We'd been at it for weeks now. We were trying to move forward but track WCKD's movements at the same time. It was a struggle to keep up with them. There had been times we'd lost them completely only to find them again a few weeks later. Now was one of those moments. We'd lost track of them about a week ago. The four of us gladers that were left were the ones that tried to track all of WCKD's moves. Vince and the others worked on getting us closer to the safe haven.

"Let's hit our beds. First thing in the morning we'll get moving again." Vince ordered as everyone finished loading the trucks.

I met up with Harriet so we could go to our beds together. They were right next to each other. When I say "beds" I really mean sleeping bags or blankets either on the ground or in the trucks themselves.

"Any more leads?" Harriet asked as we got to our beds.

"Not yet but we are working on it. We'll find them." I told her softly.

She nodded then crawled under her blankets. I did the same hoping sleep would come quickly.

The next morning Harriet woke me up. We immediately rolled up our blankets then climbed into our assigned vehicles. I was obviously with my fellow gladers. Thomas was driving while Newt happily sat in the passenger seat. Fry and I had our guns loaded and ready in the back seat just in case they were needed.

We drove for hours from sun up to sundown. We rarely stopped only if it was absolutely needed. When we did, it was late into the night. Vince had as stop in an area we could easily hide the vehicles. We all ate quickly then got back in the trucks to sleep for a few hours.

When we did start moving again Newt had taken the driver seat while Thomas took the passenger seat next to him. Not long into the drive, I saw Newt reach over and grab Thomas' hand. They intertwined their fingers together then rested them on top of Thomas' thigh. It was so good to see those two actually moving forward with their relationship. As I watched Thomas rub his thumb against Newt's hand a sudden sadness came over me. It was one I hadn't felt in some time. I had been so busy with everything going on I hadn't let myself have the time to think. To think about Gally and how he could have been apart of all this.

I turned to stare out the window. I had to clear my head. I couldn't let myself get distracted by the past or what could have been. Gally was gone and I had to make my peace with that no matter how hard it might be. I had to keep moving.

"You alright?" Fry asked quietly.

"I'm fine," I told him in a sharp tone.

I didn't mean to say it like that. I glanced at Fry who had a knowing look on his face. These three boys had come to know me way too well. They could read me like an open book.

"I know you still miss him. I do too. He was my friend as well. You know you can talk to us about it. Maybe talking about it will help you move on." Fry said softly.

Thomas had turned in his seat to look at me. Newt glanced back in the mirror.

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine you guys." I said softly with a small smile.

Thomas chuckled.

"We know you're not fine Em. It's okay to not be fine. He meant a lot to you. I don't fully understand it but I didn't know him like you did." Thomas said with a smile.

"I don't think any of us knew him like she did." Newt joked.

Fry laughed.

"That's for sure. Did I ever tell you about the time I caught the two of them in the wash pool?" Fry asked leaning forward to talk to Newt.

I felt my face instantly heat up. I had totally forgotten about that! Newt laughed and shook his head.

"No you didn't." Newt said.

Fry laughed again.

"Fry!" I shouted as I slapped his shoulder.

"Remember the day Emi was all muddy?" Fry asked.

Newt laughed again.

"Oh yea I remember that day." Newt nodded.

My cheeks heated even more.

"Can we not please?" I begged them.

"That night I went to wash up and I caught the sight of her and him in the water. Things looked like they were getting pretty heated too till I said something." Fry laughed.

Newt and Thomas both laughed.

"I hate you guys." I grumbled.

"Did you ever figure out why she was covered in mud?" Newt asked Fry.

"Newt!" I shouted in disbelief.

"What? It's not like any of it needs to be a secret anymore." Newt laughed as he glanced back at me in the mirror.

"While the two of them were supposed to be getting mud they ended up making out for the first time. He had mud all over his hands which ended up all over Emi." Newt laughed at the memory.

I couldn't help but smile. I realized at that moment that every memory I had with Gally was so precious. Even the bad moments at the end. Every second I spent with him should be cherished and not buried in my memory.

"I never knew you two were so handsy!" Fry shouted with a fake look of disgust on his face.

I laughed at him as I slapped his arm playfully.

"Let's just say it was a good thing I had my private room in the homestead." I chuckled.

"Ew" Newt said making the other two boys laugh.

The laughter died but I continued to smile. I think reminiscing was exactly what I needed. It reminded me of all the happy moments. The moments I'd almost let myself forget.

"Thank you guys" I said softly.

Gally might be gone but I'll always remember him. I'll always have those moments that no one else knows about. The quiet words shared only between me and him. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

—

[littlemisssquiggles]

Hey squiggles. Soooo here's something I never thought I'd ask - think Ruby will take Oscar's hand or the other way around if/when they become a couple.

Hiya Jade! Uhm, I’m actually banking on quite abit of hand holding between the two Rosebuds prior to any potential romancethat could spark between them.

One thing I’m anticipating to see from V7 is thepossibility of seeing Ruby and Oscar grow closer than they’d even been inprevious seasons. For me, V5 and V6 did an adequate job of establishing Rubyand Oscar’s shared protectiveness of each other. 

I love how Ruby is the one who mostly looks out for Oscar especially on the battlefield. What makesit even more special is that she’s the only member of the JNR_QROWMBY whoactually ensures that Oscar doesn’t die in combat and this something that Inoticed she’s been doing since V5.

During the Battle of Haven, Ruby askedfor someone to help out Oscar when she noticed him struggling between fightingHazel and Lionheart. I know that it was Ozpin in control at that time but whatI found sweet from Ruby is that that she addressed him as ‘Oscar’, notOzpin.

If I remember correctly, she said “Oscar needs help” to which Ren volunteered to assist. Despite Ozpin clearly beingthe one in control (and I’d like to think that Ruby is wise enough to spot thedifference between the two souls especially when it comes to their combatexperience), Ruby called him Oscar. 

Ruby looking out for Oscar’s well-being hasbeen a practice of hers since he and Ozpin finally met up with RNJR and Qrow inMistral V5 and I’m pleased that the CRWBY Writers have kept that up in thefollowing seasons even in V7 as we saw from the first episode teaser clip atRTX (after it was leaked).

What’s also amazing about the Rosebudfriendship is how much that same protective and supportive nature that Ruby hasshown thus far for Oscar is also reciprocated in how he looks out for Ruby.Oscar may not be as combat skilled as Ruby as yet but he has shown her supportin other ways.

So yeah, interested to see where theCRWBY Writers may take this friendship for V7. If there is one signaturehandholding moment that I’m hoping to see for the future of Rosegarden, it’sthe one that harkens back to the Fairy-tale ship between Ozma andSalem.

I don’t know about other Rosegardenersbut if romance is indeed in the cards for these twosmaller, more honest souls then the way I wantthe CRWBY Writers to highlight Ruby and Oscar falling in love with each other(or at least sparking puppy dog crushes on each other) is in a similar mannerto how Ozma and Salem first met and fell in love.

Youremember the moment at the start of the Lost Fable episode where Ozma firstrescues Salem? Right after, we saw the two worktogether to combat the remaining enemies within the Lonely Tower before finallymaking their escape together hand in hand.

Then afterwards, we get an intimateexchange between the two as they smiled softly at one another. During thisscene, the audience hears Jinn as the narrator say:

“…Theyescaped the wretched fortress and yet, something bound them together. Ozma hadbeen ready to give his life for justice countless times but now saw a womanworth saving it for.And Salem,to her surprise, found her freedom not in the outside world she had yearned forbut in the eyes of the man who had saved her…”

 This was then followed up by myfavourite line to quote from the Fairy-tale lovers:

“So, wheredo we go now?”

“Whereveryou like.”

Words cannot fathom how much I would loveto see something like this mirrored in Ruby and Oscar. If the Writers do planon pairing these two up and having them be the happilyever after equivalent to the Fairy-tale ship thatended tragically then this would be the perfect way for them to do it.

I want them to show Ruby and Oscarworking together to defeat a common foe (possibly Cinder since we know she’llbe coming after Ruby with Neo and we can ascertain that there is bound to besome kind of rematch between Cinder and Oscar since she was the one who killedOzpin). Then during the aftermath, the two share a moment where Oscar looksacross and smiles softly at Ruby who returns the smile, blushing slightlydespite herself.

Ruby then casually asks Oscar “So…what should we do now?” to which Oscar replies, “Whatever we like.”

He then does something we’ve never seenhim do before. He takes Ruby’s hand in his and the smile on the Ruby’s facewidens as she intertwines fingers with Oscar’s. Or perhaps it’ll be a bit whereit’s Oscar’s turn to reach his hand out to Ruby which she gladly takes.

THAT is a potential Rosegarden moment I want to see. That is apotential Rosegarden moment I’m waiting to see done. If I ever needed a clearsign from the CRWBY Writers that a possible Rosegarden endgame romance was inthe cards, this was the sign I’d be looking out for.

If Rosegarden is to be canon, I’dexpect the Writers to signify it by referring to the Fairy-tale pairconsidering how much Ruby and Oscar share in common with Salem and Ozma.  

I’ve made this observation before andI’ll repeat it again here: Ruby andOscar mirror Salem and Ozma. Inspite of Oscar being the one who shares Ozma’s soul, surprisingly enough Rubyis who reminds me the most of who Ozma originally was—the just and noblechampion ready to give her life to do whatever it takes to protect humanity.Seeing Ozma and knowing that Ozpin is the current version of him in a sensejust puts a lot of context into why I believe Oz put so much fate in Ruby Rose.She must’ve reminded him so much of his firstself. His originalself from way back in First Remnant whenthis never-ending story all began.

As for Oscar—in an odd way, hereminds me a bit of original Salem in the sense of how in the beginning helonged for a life beyond the confinements of his original sheltered life. In asense, Salem and Oscar both craved that sense of freedom but the way in whichthey went about achieving it was different.

Not sure if I’m making much sense herebut the connection between Rosegarden and the Fairy-tale pair is very strong. So much so that this is why I’m hoping thatthe CRWBY Writers further emphasis this similarity by having Ruby and Oscar fall in love in a similarfashion to Salem and Ozma.

I like the idea of Ruby initiallystarting off seeing Oscar as just another cherished ally she cares about anddesired to protect with all of her being, only to soon realize that he meant more toher than what she realized. Some Ruby fans want her to end up with no one inthe end. However this squigglemeister, being the hopeless romantic that Iam, believes it’d be sweet if Ruby experienced the beauty of falling in lovewith someone. Give her that romanticlife—the fairy tale that’s full of charm.As a matter of fact, give her the happy ending where she gets to live happilyever after with the love of her life.

I understand that Ruby is the hero ofher story (along with her fellow team mates) but I hope she is not transformedinto the typical ‘strongindependent woman who don’t need no man’archetype that has saturated the media these days to the point of being shoveddown the audience’s throat at this point. There is no shame in having yourfemale heroine find romance or even want to pursue it.

In case of Ruby, fans are used to herbeing the great huntress that she is. I know Ruby is the hero. I’m just sayingonce it a while it would be nice to see her be just a girl. Romance issomething I have yet to see the show tackle for Ruby and I’m honestly verycurious to see how Ruby would react in the face of having romantic feelings foranother person.

As a matter of fact, I like the idea ofRuby falling in love like a lovebird. She strikes me as the type to not justfall in love with anyone. She might really, really like someone but I think romantic love—the artof actually being in love with a person—that wouldbe a first for Ruby and she might be so naïve to the feeling that she mightjust be one of those folks who don’t realize that they’re in love despite the signsbeing so clear to others. Ruby strikes me as the type to not just give herheart to anyone and I’d like to think this is something she shares in commonwith Oscar. Especially Oscar.

As I said before, my theory is thatOscar isn’t the type to open himself up to anyone. I’d like to believe thattrust is very important to the small, freckled farm boy and the moment he’slearned to honestly trust you unconditionally, you’ve earned the key to hisheart.

This ties into my thought of Ruby taming Oscar’s heart by making him see that he can trust and believe in her just asmuch as she trusts and believes in him. That and the obvious nod to the LittlePrince.

On the flipside with Ruby, my ongoingtheory is that Oscar ismeant to be a fuel to Ruby’s spark. He’smeant to be the keeper of her flame, the one who can ignite her spark should itever go out. Hence why I love the Black Rose Ruby theory me and @miki-13concocted. That musing of Ruby falling victim to Salem and becoming corruptedunder her influence with Oscar being the one to help lead her back to the lightis reaffirmed by what Is said before.

I really like the idea of Ruby startingoff as someone who fought for everyone and in the midst of that, finds love andcompanionship in the young boy who literally showed up at her doorstep. Acharming little barn prince who not only shares in her devotion to fighting toprotect humanity but also shares in a power that binds them together.

I like this just as much as I like theidea of Oscar finding the same level of amity and conviction not just withinhimself (like the Gods had predicted) but in the lovely silver eyes of theunique rose whose indomitable will inspires him to keep moving forward towardsa brighter tomorrow.

 Honestly the more I think aboutRosegarden and all the amazing parallels that these two have with the other,the more I cannot see these two being paired up with anyone else but eachother. No disrespect to all the other Ruby and Oscar ships out there. Nottrying to knock you guys down or anything like that. It’s just that from myperspective, Rosegarden is like a second Renora, at least in my opinion.

Seriously the more I analyse Rosegardenand compare it against all the info gathered from the recent seasons, the moreI personally can’t picture them ending up with anyone else romantically since Igenuinely feel like these two are being written to betogether in some shape or form—even if it’s areally great friendship.

There is just too much support from thenarrative to not think this a possibility between these two kids:

1) Ruby and Oscar both share the mantle of being the youngest membersof the hero team. Oscar is two years younger than Ruby, placing him around thesame age she was when she first started her huntsmen training.

2) Ruby and Oscar, despite being the youngest members, both share theburdens of the badge ofleadership that’s been placed on them. Ruby hasbeen the leader of two huntsmen teams (RWBY and RNJR) and the spark ofinspiration amongst the heroes, often being the one that everyone turns to forhope. Oscar is the current incarnation of Ozma and the one expected to take Ozpin’splace once he merges with the young boy. Ozpin has been another voice of wisdomand guidance for the team and I wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar will have thatexpectancy placed on him as Oz’s successor.

3) Ruby and Oscar both share the power of the God of Light coursingthrough them. Oscar, as a Wizard of Light, not only possesses the ability toperform  magic—the proverbial gift ofthe Gods granted to early man—but Ozma’s reincarnation cycle has beenmaintained by the God of Light’s power for many centuries. Ruby, on the otherhand, is a Silver Eyed Huntress. Despite the origins of the Silver Eyes stillremaining a mystery, according to the events of V6, the Silver Eyes seems tostem from the God of Light as well since its power and overall effect on theGrimm is similar to his.

4) Ruby’s signature colour is red while Oscar’s is green which heshares with Ozpin and Ozma. Red and Green are not only complementary coloursbut they are also colours associated with a redrose—red being the petals and greenrepresenting the stem of the rose.

5) Speaking of rose, the rose is symbolic to both Ruby and Oscar.It’s symbolic to Ruby since it’s in her name and has been her emblem since thestart of the series. But surprisingly enough, the Rose is also significant toOscar since many RosegardeningPineheads believe that Oscar is takinginspiration from ‘TheLittle Prince’ story and in the plot of the LittlePrince, the Prince’s true love and companion was a red rose.

6) Ruby’s eyes are silver while Oscar’s name alludes to the colour ‘oscar gold’.Oscar’s eyes even glow golden yellow whenever he and Ozpin switch control ofhis body. Similar to how red and green complement each other in terms ofcolours, gold and silver are a combination of metals you commonly hear together.

7) Apart from the Little Prince, it is also believed that PrincessOzma from the Wizard of Oz is another character of influence for Oscar. He isalso inspired a bit by Dorothy Gale since, similar to Dorothy, Oscar lived asheltered life with his aunt (and possibly uncle) on their family farm. It has also been pointed out before by RWBY theorists, that Ruby also takesinspiration from Dorothy Gale apart from her obvious Little Red Riding muse. Inthe Oz series, Princess Ozma shared a close relationship with Dorothy Gale asshe was her closest confidante. It was stated that when Ozma first met Dorothy,Oz’s greatest heroine, she immediately liked her and the two became instantbest friends. Huh. Ozma immediately liked Dorothy when they first met and the two becamequick best friends despite only knowing each other shortly? Hmm…why does thatsound familiar? 

 It is also stated in the canonical BaumOz books, that Dorothy and Ozma are each other’s closest relationship leadingRosegardening Pineheads to believe that this will be mirrored in Ruby andOscar’s bond possibly.

8) Ruby’s aura is red while Oscar’saura is green. Interestingly enough, this is paralleled by Ozma and Salem.Similar to how Ruby and Oscar share the red and green complementary colours, sodo the Fairy-tale pair and as we all know, Salem and Ozma was lovers.

And well, the rest I talked aboutbefore but you see why I like Rosegarden right? It’s not just that these twoseem cute together and that their interactions with one another thus far hasbeen nothing but wholesome, innocent and sweet (no matter how much the antis try to spin it otherwise). Thispairing is also really really compelling from a narrative standpoint.

Whether they actually do start aromance or remain strictly platonic but close, as I say always, it’s up to the CRWBY Writers. For now,for now I’ll just simply include by reiterating that if Ruby and Oscar aregoing to hold hands at some point, I hope a major one parallels Fairy-tale.Buuuuut that’s just me. Hope I answered your question fam.

~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

[tolkien-reader]

Imagine - Sweetpea/OC.

So I've having these little random one shots or imagines, if you will. Inside my little quarantine mind, about Sweetpea from Riverdale and I don't know how else to get it out. So I figured, I'd write them and post them for all of you to enjoy with me :)

So this imagine is about if my OC, who jumped into a fight with Sweetpea and Fangs at a house party, with a guy who was about to sucker punch Sweetpea from behind and let's just say Sweetpea was not happy about it.. at first.

Sarah: Hey, How's your punching hand?

I was in the kitchen, examining my swollen hand from punching a guy who almost sucker punched Sweetpea from behind.

Y/N: (laughs) Its a bit swollen, actually.

She chuckled, and went into her freezer to pull out frozen peas and held it out to me, I accepted it and put it on my hand.

Sarah: You're one of those ride or die chicks, huh?

Y/N: (I shrugged my shoulders) I guess. I mean who tries to sucker someone from behind? Like a little bitch.

Sarah: I don't know, but all I know is, you're wild.

We both laughed and Sweetpea suddenly walked up to us.

Sweetpea: yeah, or stupid.

Y/N: (I narrowed my eyes at him) excuse me?

Sweetpea: I told you to fucking stay out of it, Y/N. Now look at you. Look at your fucking hand!

Y/N: (I rolled my eyes) Pea, I'm fine. My hand is fine.

Sweetpea: Why can't you just listen to me, for once, huh?

Y/N: Because... where's the fun in that?

I pulled his waist against my body with my good hand and bit my lip up at him.

Sweetpea:(He sighed) Let me see it.

He grabbed my hand to look at it, and he shook his head, as his hand rise above my head to lean against the wall, trapping me against it.

Y/N: Its not as bad as it looks. (I suddenly, smirked) You should see the other guy's face. (Looking up at him, biting my lip again, knowing it drove him crazy.)

Sweetpea:(He shooked his head, with a half smirk planted on his face.) I'm so fucking turned on by you right now.

Then he kissed me so hard, his whole body was pressed against mine, his big hands on either side of my face, our tongues fighting for dominance, then he pulled away, both of us out of breathe.

Sweetpea: Let's go. We're going home. Now.

I smile and happily followed him to the door to put our shoes on.

Y/N: Wait! What about Fangs and Jen?

Sweetpea: I don't know and I honestly, don't give a fuck. Let them handle their relationship how they want...(Then he took a step toward me with a dark look in his eyes, my heart skipped a beat, mirroring his look of anticipation and lust.) ... Because I'm about to take you to our bed and handle, you. The way I've been wanting to all night.

Y/N:... is that a threat? Or a promise?

He smiled(just like in the gif, below) loving the way I challenged him.

I may post more, so please let me know if you like this! It will be greatly appreciated. Thank you! :)

Oh, and btw, I only own my OC.