#i will maybe embroider this shift in the future but not right now

[discountalien-pancake]

There is a wobble. It is less that a millimeter deviated from being perfectly straight. You can’t even tell which wobble I’m talking about because it’s laid out on an uneven surface and is partially bunched up. When I tell you that it took all my willpower to not undo all the stitching to fix the wobble—

But it’s done, I’ve done it, I’m moving on, I am NOT FIXING THE WOBBLE (not fixing the wobble), and the end is finally in sight.

The takeaway from this is two things: first, that perfection is the enemy of completion; second, if your seams are fussy, suck it up and baste them.

Don’t pin. Baste. Just do it. It may feel like sewing an extra line of stitching for no reason, but the 10 minutes that it takes to sew a line of quarter-inch long stitches is a small sacrifice to make to save yourself restitching the same seam five times. Listen to me. Baste your seams.

[pillow-anime-talk]

genshin month ; third day.

synopsis: You and your fiancé started spending less and less time together.

# tags: scenario; current relationship; romance; mild angst; also fluff; sfw with suggestive ending

includes: female reader ft. albedo & sucrose {genshin impact}

author’s note: it’s time for some fucking angst but with happy end, friends.

You packed a delicious-looking breakfast into a special bamboo box, and then wrapped both the beautifully scented bento and the paper bag with chocolate cookies in a much larger piece of colorful fabric to make it all more convenient to carry. A proud smile graced your face as you turned to greet Albedo, whose footsteps you heard in the distance.

“Hello, darling.” You greeted him warmly and then felt a sweet kiss in the middle of your hot forehead. “Breakfast is on the table, and here, I packed your dinner. Please, eat it later, okay?” You added softly, touching his delicate skin on his cheek by your left hand, and the man nodded gently, after a while, however, nestling your body into his slightly larger and warmer. “Huh? Something happened?”

“Well... I know, I promised you that today we will spend some time together and go for a walk, but I will have to stay longer at work.” He confessed hesitantly, and you sighed under your breath.

“After all, you are our Chief Alchemist, I’m not really surprised. Has Jean commissioned you to do something important?” Curious, you asked, and he shook his head, which made you a bit confused. So you raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to answer you truthfully.

“Sucrose asked me to help her with alchemy, so I’ll stay with her a little longer to help her master some of the things.” He admitted calmly, and your expression becomes blank. Ah, right. You could have figured out that the reason for all of this is your fiance’s helper, Sucrose.

You moved away from his body, then sighed; nevertheless, a weak smile appeared on your face. Not very honest, but Albedo didn’t seem to notice it.

“It’s okay, love. Let’s go eat our breakfast. I made your favorite vegetable and mushroom omelets.”

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

Hours after Albedo left the house, you realized that you forgot to add a thermos with coffee to his large bento. You decided to quickly fix your mistake and prepared his favorite, strong drink. You also took some fresh fruit and packed it in a small cloth bag. On its front there was a beautiful bouquet that you had embroidered yourself a few days earlier.

Even though you were confused by the behavior of your lover, you couldn’t stop worrying about him. He was the most important person for you, he was your beloved second half, he was also the best human you have ever met, so you wanted to repay him for looking after you and making sure that nothing bad would ever happen to you. Albedo cared for you as best he could and you appreciated it like nothing else in the world. However, for a long time you have had the impression that this care and interest in you begins and ends in your shared home, where no one is looking, where no one is allowed to enter.

Your weekly walks around the city were a thing of the past, and you didn’t want to ask for them every time. Your ‘family’ lunches were no longer shared lunches, because you ate them alone while the twenty-two-years-old was in his lab or carrying out his missions. Your tenderness was limited to kisses on the forehead, and you missed kisses on the mouth, on the nose, on other parts of the body. Not to mention about long baths together or time spent in bed (not necessarily reading books, but something... more intimate).

Nevertheless, you weren’t particularly angry, maybe a bit disappointed, but you didn’t feel angry with your partner. The only thing you could feel at that time was your concern about whether Albedo takes care of himself and takes care of his daily menu or the right amount of water consumed throughout the whole day.

The road to the place where the young man’s laboratory was located took you less than twenty minutes. Along the way, you greeted the inhabitants of Mondstadt, who, seeing you, wished you a nice day and asked you to greet, quoting their words, ‘The Great Captain’. At the sound of their joyfull voices you smiled slightly, nodding your head and promising you would do it. And as soon as you got to the right place, you quietly entered the building. You wanted to say ‘Good afternoon’ to your loved one and green-haired teenager, but instead you almost felt that the bag of products falling out of your hands.

You knew Albedo cherished you and would never cheat on you, but it hurt to see him leaning forward next to Sucrose. It seemed that his lips were about to touch her cheek or temple, and it hurt as badly as any other form of cheating. He had so much fun with her and their alchemy, so many topics to talk about, from work to missions they were given, and you? All you two could talk about was only... Yeah, was what?

“Umm... Albedo?” Your peaceful voice spread over the fairly large room, and two people next to the wooden table looked up at your standing figure. “I forgot to pack your coffee in the morning... I’ll put it here and I won’t disturb you two anymore. Don’t overstraining yourselves, okay?” Your faint smile covered a broken voice and trembling lips. “Good luck with your work and study. Do your best.”

You quickly put the silvery thermos and colorful fruit on the dark cabinet, and just as quickly left the room. Albedo, seeing your figure disappearing, apologized to his assistant, and she nodded. But before the blonde alchemist left the room, Sucrose grabbed him by the black sleeve of his clothes and laughed shyly.

“Mr. Albedo, I don’t think I need any extra lessons today, though. We can arrange a different date. Will it be okay?” Her girlish voice reached his ears, and he mechanically agreed, breathing blissfully. “Thank you. Please keep Mrs. Y/N company tonight. I think she misses you really much.”

The knight wanted to answer, but instead he ran after you, catching you up almost at the exit of the brick building. He took your sad face slowly between his all, long fingers and you frowned.

“Why are you leaving? You’re always welcome here, darling.”

“I just don’t want to disturb you two, Albedo. I don’t fit here.” You admitted finely, and your gaze shifted to the mahogany panels under your feet. “Sometimes I wonder why you are with me. I don’t even understand alchemy, you can’t talk to me about it. You should... Maybe you should be with Sucrose? Or with another woman who shares your hobbies...?” You asked tenderly, and he opened his eyes wider, pulling your body into a warm embrace.

“I never thought of leaving you for someone else, dearest. Why are you talking about this at all? What happened?”

Your eyes met his deep blue orbs again, and you shrugged timidly.

“Currently, Sucrose is closer to you than I am. I thought you were bored with me. Moreover – I don’t thi...”

A precious kiss on your blueberry-tasting lips silenced your thoughts and at the same time caused a tiny blush on your both cheeks and ear tips.

“Sucrose is my successor, it’s true. But, my love. You are my future wife and you’re definitely more important to me than she is. Please don’t ever think that I will leave you for someone else. You are the best thing... no, you’re the best person that enter to my life and I love you very, very much. Also... Sucrose always asks about you and says she wants to be like you. Like someone who know how to cook or bake, sew clothes and plushies, make beautiful hairstyles like the ones on my head. She admires you as someone admires their mother. Sometimes I have the feeling that she would rather be your apprentice than mine.” He laughed cutely, and you looked at him in big surprise. After a short while, however, you nodded, resting your head on his smooth neck. “... I know I’ve been neglecting you lately and I’m ashamed of it, but now I promise to make it up to you. Therefore, let’s go home and tomorrow we’ll go for a walk to the lake or for a picnic.”

“Huh? But your job? Extra-curricular activities...? And what about...”

“Don’t think about anything. We’re done now so let’s go, dear. I have to show you how different you are from other people when it comes to my feelings.” Suddenly his mouth was right next to your left ear, and warm breath wrapped around your face. “And I don’t promise you’ll fall asleep tonight.”

“... A-Albedo!”

previous day ; aether ♡ next day ; keqing

[intergalacticwanderer]

(Circus Kids week day four - color. Directly inspired by this.)

Yasha was in a state of gentle shock. She was riding in the back of a cart, numerous other people nearby after so long on her own, and things weren’t going wrong. It felt like a dream. Or something she’d made up. And yet the cart was still solid below her, wood grain rough under her finger tips and every bump in the road jolting through her. It all appeared to be real. But the thing that she couldn’t get over, that felt the most fantastical out of everything, was the tiefling sitting across from her.

Right now he was lounging with his head tilted back to absorb the sun, light winking off of the jewelry on his horns and lavender skin framed by dark purple hair. Over his shoulders was a dark red coat embroidered with an absolute riot of different colors and fanciful designs, the inside blue with a pattern of crescent moons. Even his skin managed to have more color to it as well, Yasha noticing peacock feathers tattooed on his cheek and neck, and other tattoos peeking out in different spots on his body, all framed by scars of a lighter purple color. She couldn’t remember seeing so much color in one place before. It was overwhelming.

And it was beautiful.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Breath shaky, but there. She didn’t know how long it’d been, really, since she’d come to in front of the statue of the Stormlord. But Molly(?) was still the first person she’d seen since then, and he was... well, he was a lot, and not just in his appearance, but in a good way. The way he’d just kept on talking to her in that field, and through a large portion of this cart ride, had kept her grounded. Given her something else to focus on, and he’d even made her laugh a few times, his own face lighting up when she’d done so. It felt good.

Maybe it’d be okay for her to actually stay here for a while. To let some of that color into her life. Molly shifted up from his lounging position, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck before he settled, hand on the back of his neck and grinning her way.

“You doing good?”

Yasha nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice was soft, still a little rough, but it was getting better every time. And she’d have time for it to get better in the future.

She was doing good.

***

His footsteps slowed, heart racing as he looked around at his surroundings. Light sound smell color everything, it was overwhelming. Too much. He clutched at his face, eyes screwing shut. “Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty...”

“Molly?”

He stopped.

“Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

And he turned around.

She stood tall before him, in blacks and greys and whites that were nearly a relief for how different they were, grounding amidst all of the chaos that surrounded him. The words she had just spoken to him, he didn't recognize them, but her voice? That was different. Familiar.

“Empty.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Ah. That’s why it was familiar.

“Love,” he said, and upon hearing that her expression ached, sadness and happiness all tied up together and, yes. That’s what she was.

“Love.”

Later, when he could think clearly but was still needing to figure out who he was, he watched an image of a coat turning in the air.

“Do you want it to be a red coat? I mean, you were dreaming of it.”

He shook his head, face scrunching up a bit. “Mmm.” Looked over at Yasha with a thoughtful expression. “Or maybe black for now.”

“Looks good on everyone,” Yasha said, nodding with a half smile, and he nodded in agreement.

“Start simple.”

And simple it may have been, but in a few years it was still there on his shoulders, monochromatic against his colorful skin and tattoos. Staying with him as he was living life, and getting better every day.

And in the end, that was good enough for him.

[magalidragon]

a bird on the wire drabble | #59. “How do I put up with you?” 

This one is for @aenarsnow​ who sent me an “OR” ask and I already wrote one for when the sun sets in the east but I couldn’t help myself and did a flangst one for bird on the wire!  Someone check my temperature, I’m in an angst-writing mood lately.  🤣🤭👀

They were married once before in the Winterfell godswood, but this was different.  This was something of a…renewal.  With the family.  The Entire Family, in all CAPS because that’s what she thought of them as.  It was The Entire Family, complete with Kingsguard and all the assorted accoutrements.  She had simply asked them to make their footprint as quiet as possible.

It had been Jon’s idea, one which she had thought was lovely.  A vow renewal, for her family to attend.  A few years in the making, their little Aly could participate, carrying a sprig of flowers in her small hands, trotting down the aisle.  A white dress made specifically for her, a lovely filmy creation from her favorite designer Ellaria Sand, her back exposed with small cap sleeves and embroidered vines throughout it.  

She stood in the window of their rented house, one of Drogo’s, which he’d lent them for the few weeks they had decided to stay before and after the wedding.  The breeze coming off the Shivering Sea was cool, the home in the far North of Essos, on the very northern edge of the Dothraki Sea.  It was secluded, the nearest city almost four hours away.  They would not need to worry about paparazzi or other press crashing in on the event.  The Kingsguard, per her request, were as far away as they dared to be.  

It was lovely this morning, she thought, holding her cup of coffee in her palms, watching the waves roll lazily along the sand.  In the distance she could see her mother walking with Aly, both of them kneeling every so often and picking up a shell, placing it in Aly’s bucket.  Her daughter would be four soon; where did the time bloody go?  

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and caught sight of Viserys rocking out on the veranda, seated like a strange black bird on the stone wall, one arm around his knees, which were almost in his face, sucking on a cigarette, his silver hair in a knot on his head.  He’d been good; he tended to do better in Essos than he did in Westeros.  Rhae was with him, sitting on the opposite side—normally—with a cup of coffee and a cigarette himself.  

Don’t let the public know you have a vice Rhae, she thought, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.  He had been on his best behavior since his arrival a few days ago.  He was still dealing with her departure, secret wedding, and move to the North.  Even if she hadn’t really left.  She was still the Princess Royal, she still worked officially for them, but it was on simpler terms.  She was in love, the man she loved was “less than” according to her brother, and that was unacceptable.  

She was tired of pretending to be other people just to have the man she wanted.  

The love she wanted.

The hot coffee scalded her tongue and she swallowed it, regardless, enjoying the warmth.  She turned away from the window, spotting her husband in the large four-poster bed, hugging her pillow and watching her through hooded eyes.  “How long have you been staring?” she asked.  

“Not long.”  He smirked.  “I like watching you.”

“Pervert,” she teased, walking over to offer him her coffee.  He took it and she crawled back onto the bed, drawing her legs beneath her, and hooked her arm around her ankles.  

“I made my living watching you.”

“Yes, you did.”  She smirked, finding it something of a relief and yet also a slight achy pain at the memories.  She linked her fingers in his, playing with them on the soft, silky sheets, watching them slide together.  They were a perfect fit.  “I know we’re already married, but I still think this is a little chancy, seeing the bride before the wedding.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Dany, really?  I think we can handle whatever comes our way.”

True, she figured.  She exhaled hard, slumping down, head knocking against the headboard, swallowing the lump in her throat.  After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, picking a spot on the ceiling and staring.  “I just want to run away.  Why do I still want to run away?”

His hand squeezed in hers.  “It’s habit.  Too many years of it.”

They’d been married for almost five years now; they had a child.  She had her foundation, her charity, and she was one of the hardest working royals.  The public said she was happier, they could see it in her eyes, and they wanted her to be their queen.  Rhaegar had seriously misjudged things, he’d been too consumed in his own grief and fears to realize that she was the future of the Targaryens.  She was miserable before, now she was free.  

Dragons did not belong in cages.

And yet…

Yet there were days where she still wanted to disappear into a wig and contacts, to pretend she was someone else, and while she did that as a coping mechanism, while she hated it and wanted to cry each time, she did it, in a sick, twisted way she missed doing it.  She slid away from him, getting up and padding towards the closet, stepping in and opening up the garment bag with her wedding dress.  She fingered the silky, filmy material, letting her mind wander.

It shouldn’t work.  They had never been allowed to be <i>normal</i>.  She didn’t understand it most days.  

He came up behind her, feet padding on the hardwood floor.  She pulled the bag shut, spinning around on him, scowling.  “No peeking!”

“I wasn’t peeking,” he lied.  He leaned against the door frame, crossing arms and ankles.  His eyes narrowed, whispering.  “What is it Dany?”

She shifted, shrugging.  “Nothing.”  Lie.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” Lie. He arched his brows.  After a few seconds, shifting on her feet, she huffed, pushing her fingers through her hair and didn’t know what to do with her hands.  “I don’t…I just…” She was confused.  She didn’t know why.  Meeting his comforting gray eyes, she whispered, “How do I even put up with you? How do I do this?”

He frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“I just…I still don’t know…how do I do this with you Jon?  How do we do this life still?  I know it’s stupid, we’re already married, and we have our daughter and our lives and we…we make it work, but maybe it’s Rhae being here or my mom or Viserys but…” She groaned.  It made no sense, picking this fight, dragging these emotions into everything when they had no business being taken out from the chest, she’d locked them up inside when she’d finally broken out of that cage.  Hair tugging in her fingers, she dragged her hands down over her cheeks and cried.  “Sometimes I just don’t know how I’m doing this.  If it’s all going to slip away again.  Like one of the dreams.  Like those days we had together, and all went away.”

It must be what people felt like when all they knew was turmoil and everything started going right.  When would the carpet get ripped out from underneath her?  She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but she still did.  

He reached for her, wrapping her up and she buried her face into his shoulder, hugging him tight.  She didn’t cry; it was more just a wave of fear than it was anything worth truly sobbing over.  He stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in the curls.  “This is real Dany, this is all real, and nothing is going to change that.  We have each other, we have Alysanne, and I know you wanted to do this for your family, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head.  “No, I do.  I want to.”  

“Rhae isn’t going to do anything to stop this Dany, he can’t.”

“I know, I just…it’s just leftover…” <i>Trauma.  Fear.  Nightmares.</i> She touched the fading scars on his chest, from so long ago, and lifted her face, smiling through unshed tears.  She loved this man so much.  “It will be fine.  I’m just…”

He touched his forehead to hers, whispering, “Healing.  It’s healing.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, holding him tight.  She stood with him in the closet for a while, not feeling ready to let go just yet.  

That was, until the door opened, and a little dark-haired girl with her father’s frown came flying into the room, dragon temper on full display, shouting about how Uncle Viserys broke her seashell and just what exactly did they plan to do about it?  

It’s real, Dany repeated, pulling away to grin at her daughter, who didn’t sense the heavy emotions she’d walked into, too busy presenting them with evidence of her uncle’s treachery.  She blew out a hard breath, watching Jon lift up their little girl and carry her off to deal with it.  She closed her eyes and hugged herself.  It’s real and I can do this.

[electronicgrowth]

Can’t Get Enough Part 2

Hi friends! What do we think of Billie and Lee? How will Lee keep Billie? Only time will tell *evil laugh*. 

Summary: The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other?

Word Count: 1.9k

Billie awoke the next morning nervous. Not nervous that she was going to be pregnant, she may have been a small town girl but she wasn’t stupid. No, she was nervous because she knew she had crossed a line the night before. It was something she had dreamed of doing, for almost a full year. But she had plans to leave Knockemstiff and she couldn’t be deterred. She figured there was no sense in worrying about it for the time being. Knowing Lee Bodecker, she knew that he never paid a girl attention for very long. And she had to get ready for church. 

Being part of a family of eight meant that trying to pile everyone into the car on Sunday morning was an event. Wesley sat between his parents. And the three girls sat in the back. Joseph and Thomas sat in the trunk area. It was plenty big for the two of them. Joy fussed over her children. Straightening the boys ties and attempting to keep the girls’ dresses from getting rumpled. She had recently focused much of her attention on Billie. Billie was at the age where she needed to think about finding a nice fella to settle down with. John and Joy didn’t approve of Billie’s plan to leave Ross County. They knew she could find a nice boy in town and have wonderful grandchildren for them. 

Today Joy was especially grating to Billie. She thought about faking sick and skipping the church services. She didn’t know why her mother made the family listen to both services. They weren’t the same, but they were similar. Billie thought one service was plenty. But no, they had two every Sunday and Joy insisted that her daughters help serve lunch between the two services. The local women who could find some room in their budget to contribute a dish or two each week ran the lunches. She hated that everyone expected her to help. But she never put up a fuss about it. 

Lee awoke that same morning very excited. Excited about his future with Billie and today he would start to woo her. He knew the entire family would be at the Sunday church service. So, he went to the Sunday service and actively sought out the Dechswaan family. He saw Joy in one pew, she was toying with Billie’s dress. It’s white with pink flowers embroidered on it. Joy is obsessively running one hand over the dress, as if she think there’s wrinkles in the fabric. Billie looks entirely unamused. Lee walks over to the family as they’re starting to sit down. 

“Deputy Bodecker,” Joy beamed, “How are you on this fine Sunday?”

“Doing well ma’am,” he responds. 

“Good, good. Why don’t you sit with us today,” Joy grins, sitting down. 

“I would love to,” Lee smirks. 

“You and Billie can sit next to each other,” Joy suggests. He was used to mama’s shoving their daughters at him. What mama wouldn’t want a nice man with benefits to marry their little girl? 

Lee grinned to himself as he sat. If Joy was already trying to push Billie on him then this would be easy. Billie hesitantly sits between Lee and her mother. Lee’s legs spread open so his thigh brushes Billie’s. She strains to take a deep breath in. The air in the church was sweltering. You couldn’t expect much more from a stuffy church in Southern Ohio in June. 

Sweat was pouring down Billie’s back. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest. Lee moved his leg up and down so it rubbed on Billie’s leg. She wanted desperately to lean into it. The preacher asked the congregation to stand and sing. Billie stands with the rest of the family, she felt all the blood rush to her head. She stumbles back into Lee a bit. He rights her, he’s not sure what to make of her stumble and the intense blush in her face. She moves her hair off of her neck. She can’t feel the tips of her fingers, there’s ringing in her ears, and she can’t breathe. She starts to see little black dots hopping across her visual field. They’re halfway through Amazing Grace when Billie’s vision goes black and she collapses. 

Lee catches her before she hits the floor. There’s gasping and panicking. The preacher’s wife jumps to action.

“Let’s get her to the kitchen, we can get her some water,” she says, coming to the rescue. Lee carries Billie and Mrs. Dechswaan follows closely behind, ordering the other children to stay with their father to finish the sermon. Billie’s loss of consciousness is very brief, before they even get fully downstairs her eyes flutter open. She doesn’t fight Lee holding her. He manages to get her downstairs to the church kitchen, where he gingerly sets her on a countertop. 

“You feeling alright, sweetie?” Her mother coos with concern. Billie nods, not trusting her own voice. “I told you to eat breakfast,” Joy admonishes, handing her a glass of water provided by the preacher’s wife. Lee gathers Billie’s hair off her neck and starts to fan her with a church bulletin. If Joy wasn’t so concerned with her daughter fainting she might have noticed that such an action was too familiar. Billie sipped the water for a moment. 

“Thank you for catching me Deputy Bodecker,” she whispers. 

“Of course,” he responds.

“Mama, I just wanna go home,” Billie begs. 

“We can’t, honey. I’m signed up to serve luncheon between services,” Joy sighs. 

“Well, daddy or Joseph or Thomas could drive me home between,” Billie counters. 

“Honey, you know they’re going straight to that hog auction from here,” Joy says, clearly irritated that the three are skipping a church service. 

“I could take her,” Lee offers.

“We couldn’t impose,” Joy argues. 

“No, really. It’s quite alright. I was going to duck out between services anyway. I have a shift down at the station,” Lee promises. 

“Mama, just let him take me,” Billie urges. Joy looks at Lee, studying him.

“If you’re sure, I would really appreciate you helping us out,” she exhales. 

“Of course. It’s no problem,” Lee smiles. 

“Alright,” Joy allows, “Thank you Lee.” Billie slides off the counter and onto her feet. The four sneak back up to the main level. The preacher’s wife and Joy go back to the chapel for the remainder of the service. But Lee leads Billie outside with a tight grip on her arm. He opens the passenger door for her, before going around to the other side of the car.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as Lee starts the car. 

“You feeling any better?” He asks, eyes straight ahead on the road. 

“Still a little light-headed, but yeah,” she says. 

“You scared me there,” he tells her. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. Lee nods. He’s silent for a moment. 

“I wanted to chat with you about the other night, actually,” Lee says. 

“Are you going to lecture me?” Billie wonders aloud. 

“No,” he laughed, “I just want to make myself clear going forward.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I would like to start dating you,” he responded.

“Huh,” Billie hummed. 

“You’re a beautiful girl and you deserve someone who can provide for ya and treat ya right,” Lee murmured. 

“Sounds like you’re ready to settle down.”

“I am. The sheriff’s gotta have a lady on his arm.”

“And you want me… to be that lady.”

“I do. You’d be good at it. Already help serve Sunday luncheon and you could volunteer to work with the little kids during one of the services. Until we have our own babies, of course.”

“I think you’re moving too fast, Lee. I intend to go my own way for a time. I want to experience the world.”

“Baby,” he shakes his head, “The only experiences you need are right here. I can give you a good life. Once I’m sheriff, anything you want I can get ya. The fanciest house. The prettiest dresses. I don’t care. We’ll be so happy.” Lee stops the car, they had finally arrived back to the old farmhouse that Billie’s family lived in. Billie’s eyes are wide. She seemed almost panicked by what he had to say. 

“Uhmm, do want to come in? Have a glass of lemonade?” She asked, politely. 

“Of course,” he smiled. He was glad that she was already catering to him. She’d make a pretty little wife. He followed Billie up the steps of the house, she stumbled a little and he caught her by the elbow. 

“Thank you,” she sighed. She opened the door and led him to the kitchen. The table where the family ate was scuffed and scratched, all the chairs were mismatched. He would buy her a much nicer dining room set. He sat and waited for her to join him. She gathered two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade before sitting down at the table. She poured them each a glass. Lee drank from his glass deeply, while Billie sipped. 

“I appreciate what you’re saying Lee, I really do,” she began, “But I really want to go to college. I want to be a teacher and live in a big city.” 

“I know, honey. But my plan is better for you. You don’t have to work. You just gotta take care of me,” he explained. It was simple to him. He couldn’t fathom what it was that she wasn’t getting. Billie was quiet. 

“Didn’t you have fun last night, sugar?” He asked, his voice was gravelly and low. 

“I-I did,” she answered. Lee reach his hand over to rub her thigh. 

“I could love on you like that every night, baby,” he told her, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Billie nodded dumbly. It did sound nice. Her heart was beating quickly again. She fought to control her breath. Was he going to do that again? Right now? Part of her really hoped so. 

“Well, we don’t have to get married anytime soon,” Lee reasoned, “We can take it slow and maybe next summer we get married. Just give me sometime to prove to ya that I can treat ya right, okay?” Billie nodded again. Lee leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. 

“I gotta head to work, baby,” Lee downed the rest of his lemonade, “Let’s meet tonight. Go through your woods over here and I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“Alright,” Billie nodded. She didn’t know why she was agreeing. 

“Good, I’ll see you at ten, then. Now give me a kiss and walk me out,” he commanded, standing up. Billie stood and reached up on her tippy toes to kiss Lee. He was at least six foot and she was just five feet five inches tall. She pecked his lips. But he wrapped his arms around her, and held her to him. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue against hers. She kissed him back eagerly. Her tongue fought his for dominance. His hand snaked down to her ass to palm it. He pulled away from her with a gasp and released her. Billie walked him to the door and pecked his lips a second time. 

“Bye,” she smiled. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby.” She watched Lee drive away before closing the door. She went back to the kitchen to clean the two glasses, before slinking up to her bed. If she was meeting Lee tonight then she would need to get some sleep. 

@greeneyedblondie44

[peachyteabuck]

i’m a money symbol

summary: when ransom finds out he’s been cut from the will, there’s a different reason he flies into a murderous rage 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

words: 1655

trigger warnings: degradation, findom/sub dynamics, sex work, 

notes: thank you to @helahades​ for talking to me about this concept when i was still debating writing it. ur an enabler but i love u very much

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Ransom stares at you with eyes that rival that of pleading puppies - large and watery and a deep, deep blue. His clean-shaved face, tear-stained and reddened from the sobs that still riddle his body, is equally as pathetic.

“I-I promise I-I can pay you s-”

You cut him off with the raise of a single sculpted eyebrow, looking down at him as he falls to his knees - body folded and hands clasped together like a fervent believer praying for forgiveness after committing some heinous sin, or a servant begging their superior to let them keep their lowly position. Either analogy seems fitting given the circumstances, given his lack of inheritance and the slowly declining numbers in his bank account.

“One thing,” you hiss, lifting one of your expensive Louboutin heels so that it presses into the base of his neck, forcing his body into an even more unnatural position. He groans just a little at the pain - ass (and much more of him, probably) still sore from last night’s session. You ignore him. “I ask for one thing. It’s not hard. In fact, it was the one thing you could do quite well. Any now, what, you have none?”

Ransom gulps, nearly out of breath. “I-I have money it’s just that I-, I’m cut off right now I sw-”

The pointed heel presses further, his legs spreading underneath him to make room as his nose nearly touches the recently cleaned red oak flooring.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, practically spitting as you glare down at him. “Only good little boys who pay me to earn the right to speak to me are allowed to blubber like children.”

He whimpers as the sharp pain from your expensive shoe merges with the clumsy position of his limbs to settle in his blood – his whole body screaming like a banshee as his cock strains in his years-old designer skinny jeans.

“The worst part is,” you sigh, watching his muscles strain just as heat settles in your stomach. Slowly, but surely, it moves to your core. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Can you imagine such a thing? Me, looking forward to seeing one of you stupid little pay pigs…”

A dry laugh fills the air that sense another wave of arousal through his nervous system, his muscles and brain screaming at him to get up and walk the Hell out of there while his cock pleads with him to stay in place.

“Now get naked,” you sigh, swishing the sweet cocktail in one of the glasses monogrammed with your initials you had gotten as a gift (again, not from Ransom) last year. “I know of a way you can be of use to me.”

Immediately he strips, your gaze heated and targeted as he peels that damned sweater he refuses to replace from his toned body. He sucks in a sharp breath as the air – cool despite the roaring fire – hits his bare skin, goosebumps erupting all over as he shivers under your heated gaze.

It’s amusing, to say the least, to watch his clothes hit the floor, kicked aside as if they were something worse than trash despite their designer tags. Money means nothing to Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey if it’s not being spent on you.

Without preamble, you kick him with a single heeled foot so that he’s knocked to his knees, hands strained at his sides as he desperately attempts to obey the rules that accompany punishments. As his eyes screw shut in pain, you take the few seconds to grab the worst thing you keep in the drawer of the small table next to your plush, deep purple velvet armchair. It’s the thing Ransom hates the most in this world – even more than his family or their stupid maid or being broke or even disappointing you.

Just as his eyes open, you lean down to lock his cock in the pink plastic cage with a wince-inducing click, depositing the key in the space between your chest and the baby pink fabric of your bralette. It’s simple, mostly sheer with embroidered flowers spanning over the length of each breast while barely concealing your hardened nipples. The matching panties show off your tummy and thighs – cutting you in just the right places so that you look even more heavenly than usual.

“Fu-uck,” he moans when he realizes what’s happened, what you’ve done to him. It’s almost cute in how pathetic it is, the sound he makes and the precum that gathers at the tip and how his stomach tightens with each breath. It’s cute how pathetic he is – how his face scrunches up and he bites his lips until they’re beautiful and plump. Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey may be a chauvinist asshole with an ego bigger than his trust fund (or, what he trust fund used to be), but damn can he be so pretty it hurts.

“Down,” is all you say, giving him a small hmm as he falls to all fours. His eyes remain focused on the ground as you haven’t given him permission to keep anything else in his eyeline. He doesn’t need to be told to keep his back straight, body barely flinching as you sit back down and plant your feet in the center of his spine, your authentic red bottoms a beautiful contrast to his milky skin.

“You like my shoes, baby?” you ask, rolling them back in forth against the ridges of his spine. “You got them for me when you had money—you weren’t as useless then…”

Ransom’s back is parallel to the plush white throw you’d placed on the ground for him, his palms, knees, and the front of his feet warming the fur as you rest your own feet in the center of his spine. He can’t see you as he faces your fireplace, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching you as you talk with other clients - other men with millions, maybe even billions more than him not only in their bank accounts, but in their futures. Your long acrylic nails, ones it pains him to think he didn’t pay for, taptaptap against your phone screen as messages are typed. Judging by the click he hears every so often (in combination with your shifting in your seat) Ransom assumes you’re also taking photos – but whether they’re of you to send to customers or of him to use as blackmail, he may never know.

It's painful in a plethora of ways – but the playboy can’t tell if the pit in his chest, the aching of his cock, or the sharp pain in his back hurts worse. None of these things improve with time, either, the hours marked by glasses of champagned downed and Venmo transfers made.

The only thing that makes it better is the familiar sound of your phone being locked and placed in the side table screen-down before your feet are planted back on the floor with two sharp clacks. Sounds that would normally make Ransom’s cock jump if not for the plastic that was locked around him.

“Get in position, you useless slut,” you hiss, your hand flying to this throat so you could squeeze a warning against his skin. “You’re going to pleasure me until I say you can stop.”

Ransom gulps, his eyes wide with fear and pupils blown from lust. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that reminds you of when he deepthroats one of your many, many straps, and bows his head in submission. “Y-yes Mistress,” he moans deep, his eyes fluttering shut as the sheer memory of your dripping cunt floods his mind. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s been with you, been inside you; and he’s desperate as you push your panties to the side to reveal your soaked lips.

Ransom waits for your nod of approval before he launches himself forward, placing wet kisses wherever he can reach. You’re sensitive already, little gasps falling past your lips when he takes your clit between his teeth and sucks.

You don’t do a lot of sex work that involves service clients – it’s exhausting, to say the least, requires a lot of set up and take down and the like. For a long while you did no contact work, but it was a few clients – Ransom included – that convinced you to break into it.

And, fuck does he make all the work worth it. His fingers slide into you with confidence and expertise, finding that special spot inside of you with ease, groaning into your dripping cunt each time you cry out his name.

“Jesus, baby boy,” you cry out between guttural moans. “You’re so fucking good for your Mistress aren’t you?”

He nods, flatting his tongue as his face moves up and down and that-

That is what breaks you.

You come on his face as your thighs nearly choke him – his hands digging into the insides of your thighs. Ransom himself can’t tell if he’s trying to pull him apart – desperate for air as his whole body goes cold from lack of oxygen – or if his arms holding them in place so he has the honor to die while experiencing pure euphoria. As your pussy pulses on his tongue Ransom wonders if he’s already passed over, if Heaven is the space between your legs and why he’s been allowed there despite his many, many sins.

It doesn’t take long before his movements slow for a moment, causing you to groan in frustration before grabbing his previously-impeccably styled hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, slut?”

He gives you a small whine before shaking his head, eyes large and jaw soaked.

You smile at his obedience. “Then get down there and eat me out until I’m crying.”

Ransom smiles before moving his head back down, returning to his position below you.

God, you think. This really is the best job ever.

[roberttchase]

A tiny 2k fic based on @farfarawaygirl‘s post talking about wanting Matt to hallucinate/dream a future with Sylvie in the upcoming episode. Enjoy my friends! 

“Do we really need to get up?” Sylvie’s voice is soft and sleepy, and it makes Matt’s stomach flip, makes him feel warm and safe. Stretching a little, only to bring his girlfriend closer, the firefighter nods, burying his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in slowly. “Can’t we just...not show up?” 

A fond noise rises up from his throat, and the Captain laughs a little, bringing the covers up tighter around them. It’s cold and rainy outside, clouds hanging low, the sky dark. The perfect day for staying inside and not going to shift. 

“As much as I want to, you know Boden wouldn’t be happy. His PIC and his Captain not showing up? The house would burn to the ground,” he jokes. “Okay maybe not literally, since we’re all firefighters, but…” he trails off, nose scrunching up at his lame joke. Sylvie presses a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet. 

“Sometimes it’s annoying that you’re so responsible and dependable, Matt Casey,” the paramedic huffs. “But I love you for it. Everyone does,” she adds, making Matt blush, never one to accept praise and compliments well. But coming from his girlfriend, it makes him feel warm. 

They get up reluctantly, knowing that their jobs are; whether they want to admit it or not, important and can’t be frivolously pushed to the side. Their routine is seamless, something they’ve been doing for months now- Matt works on smoothies while Sylvie gets ready, then Sylvie feeds their little black cat while he goes to do the same. It’s effortless and makes him smile every time they put it into practice. As he finishes pouring Sylvie’s blueberry smoothie into her usual to go tumbler, his own mango one already sitting on the counter, the woman comes out in a soft sweater, setting her bag down near the door. 

“Otis said he has some big news he wants to share today,” she says as she presses a kiss to Matt’s cheek, taking her smoothie happily.

The words catch him off guard, enough to make him freeze, before remembering that Otis dying was just a nightmare of his. He’d woken up three nights ago sweating and frantic, tears burning behind his eyes as Sylvie had assured him Otis was fine, he was probably up playing fortnight or some other video game even at three am. 

“Oh? Knowing him it’s probably some convention coming to town he wants us all to go to,” the Captain snorts. Making his way back to the bedroom, Matt slips on his favorite henley and dark jeans, attempting to fix his hair that’s growing longer now that it’s cold. After he brushes his teeth and looks himself over, the man grabs his bag and makes his way back to his girlfriend. A sharp pain shoots through his head but it’s gone as quickly as it’s come, and Matt brushes it off. As the lemon wallpaper comes into view; the same as the one from Sylvie’s old apartment, Matt looks at her. 

“Ready?” 

The ride to the firehouse is filled with old N’SYNC and Backstreet Boys, and Matt grins the whole time as Sylvie sings completely engrossed into the music. He’s not sure how he got so lucky to get her to date him. The way she says ‘I love you’ sticks in him every time and makes him feel more confident of himself. Pulling up to the large brick building, the couple gets out with their bags slung on their shoulders, hold hands, and walk in. 

The morning starts even before briefing, alarm blaring out for all companies to help with a large fire at a hotel downtown. As they pull up, Matt notices the smoke billowing up from the top of the building, not black, but it’s on its way to it. Hopping out, Matt looks at his team; Otis, Kidd, Gallo and Mouch, then gives a wry smile. 

“Hope you're awake guys, this one looks big.” 

They meet up with squad, engine and ambo, and Matt goes to find the person in charge- a small woman who looks only slightly panicked, more shell shocked than anything. He hears a few of 51 directing people in and out of the building. 

“We’re going to need blueprints of the hotel. Any idea where the fire is?” 

From there it’s a rescue mission. Get everyone out as quickly as possible. Locate the fire and get it under control. On level thirteen, they run into an issue. 

“Chief, floor thirteen is rolling, we’re going to need backup to get everyone out,” Matt radio’s. “Might need to call in some more ambo relief,” he adds. 

“Copy that Casey. Sending in engine, and calling it in.” 

Two hours of intense heat, getting bodies out, and going through recovery, and finally everyone’s back at the house, already beat from the roughness of the call. 

“What a morning, huh?” Herrmann sighs, rubbing his face as he sits on the couch. Ritter and Gallo are working on breakfast, when Matt looks around and then blinks. 

“Scratch breakfast, I’m too hungry for eggs and bacon. How about we order pizza from Benny’s?” 

Everyone perks up, and Matt’s aware it’s due to the rarity of him suggesting something like this. He’s one to always stick to house made food, not big on ordering things in. It seems like everyone could use the pick me up though. Fishing his wallet out from one of his pockets, the blonde grabs his card and hands it to Gallo. “Order some pizza,” he smiles. 

“You got it Captain.” 

Kidd looks at him with her eyebrows raised. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’ Captain, you just seem in a good mood today is all,” the firefighter shrugs with a smile, making Mouch chuckle. 

“Casey in this good of a mood means something happened.” 

Furrowing his brow, Matt crosses his arm and lets out a huff. “I can’t just want to do something nice? It was a rough call.” 

“Leave him alone guys, he’s happy. Don’t ruin it,” Sylvie walks over from where she’s been sitting with Mackey, putting a hand on his shoulder. Another jolt of pain stabs into his temple, but barely lingers. He squeezes her arm. 

“I’m going to do paperwork, come find me when the pizza’s here?” 

“Copy that.” 

The rest of the day is, for once, blissfully easy, so far. There’s no bad calls for anyone, all mild and fairly quick. The consumption of pizza is interrupted by a small grease fire in a kitchen, but they’re all back within the hour, spirits high. 

“I don’t wanna jinx anything, but today is going pretty well,” Cruz says as he takes a bite of pizza. 

“Cruz! Shut up!” Severide calls out, rolling his eyes. Matt shakes his head. Leave it to Cruz to say it outloud. They all hold their breath, but no alarm sounds. Hallelujah. Sylvie sits next to him as they all enjoy the rest of their pizza, her hand on his knee, under the table and discreet. 

As he works on paperwork in his quarters, the paramedic walks in, sitting on his bunk. “Come sit with me, you can finish paperwork in a minute,” her voice sounds tired, just having gotten back from a run. The tone makes him look over, and he can tell instantly. It was a bad one. Moving as quickly as he can, he sits next to her, one hand cupping her cheek, thumb brushing against her soft skin. His head gives an angry throb. He ignores it. Sylvie’s upset. 

“What happened?” 

“Gunshot wound to the chest...a seven year old,” her voice is thin, wavering as tears start rolling down her cheeks. “I k-kept try to get him to wake up.” He wraps his arms around her tightly, kissing her hair. His head won’t stop throbbing now. He swallows against it. 

“Sylvie...you did all you could. I know you did,” Matt tries to reassure her, though he knows it’s probably not helping much. She looks up at him, heartbreak written all over her face. “He w-wouldnt...he was lying there motionless...I needed him to wake up Matt...I c-can’t…” 

Looking down at the petite blonde, his head feels suddenly like it’s being cracked in two. The pained gasp that leaves his lips is unstoppable, and he screws his eyes shut tightly. He can feel Sylvie shift. His body is rigid, his skull feels like someone’s hit it with a hammer. 

“Matt? What’s going on? Matt…”

He’s falling. Eyes still shut, Matt feels nausea well up inside him. The pain is all consuming. He struggles to open his eyes, and when he does, he’s in a completely different room. He’s disoriented, can’t quite get a hold of what’s real and what’s not. Is he dreaming? The pain in his head is angry and out for vengeance. The room is….is…. Matt’s mind feels like it’s grasping for straws, like words are right out of reach. His eyes move around. He feels hazy and sick. The beeping that’s coming from...somewhere, is hurting his head. His eyes shut. 

Sluggishly, he blinks again, and a man with jet black hair is in front of him. “Matt, are you with me?,” the man asks, dressed in dark red scrubs. There’s a name embroidered on his shirt but it’s fuzzy. A pretty woman with curly hair is standing next to him. Choi, April, his mind supplies. He’s in the hospital. He can’t remember why. Can’t remember anything before then night prior, sitting in Molly’s with Severide. 

Head throbbing, Matt licks his lips, nodding minutely. “Mm...y-yeah…” the word dies out. “Wh-What…” The Captain’s exhausted, and his eyes slip closed again, unable to stay open. 

“Matt, I need you to stay awake, can you open your eyes?” 

He tries, but it’s no use. It hurts. Everything hurts. 

“Matt, can you tell me your full name?” 

Struggling, the blonde opens his eyes again. “Matt...Matt Casey.” 

“Good, good. And can you tell me what hurts?” 

“Head...s’gonna explode…”

“Okay, we’ll get you medicine for that.” Choi turns to April, nodding as she walks out. “And can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?” 

It takes a moment. He remembers Severide, and then...then….a car. A man driving and he was holding on...then...pain. Excruciating pain, ringing in his ears. Getting back to the firehouse, promising he was okay. Sylvie. 

“L-Locker room with Sylvie...I was dizzy.” His words sound slow even to himself. Matt swallows and brings a shaky hand to his face. A painful tug on the back of it notifies him he’s got a line in. 

Choi nods, writing something down. “You’re doing great. We’re going to get you in for a CT scan right away, but the fact you remember somewhat is good. How’s the pain? 1 to 10?” 

“10,” Matt grits out, becoming more and more aware of the sharp pains encompassing his head. April’s at his side seconds later. 

“I’m giving you some morphine, I’m doing it slowly. You should feel it in about ten seconds okay? You’ll feel warm and fuzzy, that’s normal.” He wants to tell her he’s already fuzzy, but instead he nods. Just as she’s said, he does feel almost instantly warm, and then it’s like he’s floating. His mind drifts back to Sylvie. They were dating. They were together. But no, that’s not right. Grainger.

“Is…can...wh-where’s Sylvie..” Matt’s certain she brought him in, she was the last person he can recall seeing. 

“I think she’s out in the waiting area, breaking covid protocol,” April says with a small smile. 

“I’ll get her for you, but only for a few minutes, once we get the CT room we’re taking you,” Choi adds.

They both leave and Matt’s left to his floaty thoughts. He wants to kiss Sylvie again, wants to hold her hand and call her sweetheart. He remembers, now, her telling him he was still in love with Gabby. That’s not true. It hasn’t been for over a year, more than that really. He needs her. He doesn’t want to see her with Grainger, he wants to be the one to let her know how special and loved she is. He loves her. The curtain slides, and Matt sees Sylvie walk in. Her eyes are puffy and red, and he can see wetness clinging to her cheeks telling him she’s been crying. He doesn’t want her to cry. 

“Sylvie.” 

The paramedics face crumples, and as she gets closer she scrubs at her eyes and face. “M-Matt.” It’s choked and distraught, and Matt slowly, lazily holds out the hand closest to her. 

Sitting in the plastic chair, Sylvie brings it as close to the hospital bed as she can and grabs his hand hesitantly.  He wishes he could hug her, comfort her more than with just a hand hold. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to take him for the CT scan,” April walks back in, looking apologetic. 

“Please don’t leave,” Matt slurs, and Sylvie lets out a choked laugh. 

“I’m not going anywhere Matt Casey, I promise.” 

When he’s not in the hospital, he’s going to fight for her. Grainger be damned, Matt’s going to somehow prove to her he’s not in love with Gabby anymore, and that Sylvie isn’t a consolation prize. She does deserve to be with someone who puts her first. And that someone is going to be him.

[benhardypout-archive]

I’LL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE

Day 01: role reversal

Rating: T

A/N: My entry for another @lightisdays2k lightis week (2020) yaay! hope you guys like this short fic (2.3k+ words) i’ve written. i’m sorry if i got some of the original plot wrong BUT this is my own au, so deal with it. lol

"Princess Claire Farron, as one of your Father's will before he…" 

Silence soon cut through the halls by the sudden pause.

"...died," the future queen of Bodhum finished the sentence for him as her advisor. 

She's seated in a black throne wearing the royal crown and a long black dress carefully embroidered with pearls, making her look more regal yet daunting. Her pale aqua eyes looked sharp, ready to slit the advisor's throat standing before her. 

Why were they afraid to say the word? Whatever they say would not change that her father's gone.

She had read her father's last will before he got killed, and one of them was having assigned a royal guard - like a bodyguard - for her, which she knew, and her father knew, she didn't need.

The advisor fidgeted in his place and cleared his throat. What a sore to look at! 

She huffed but stayed silent as she was taught to listen. She waited, tapping her black heel against the black marbled floor.

"A-as I was saying, your highness…"

"Cut to the chase," she cut him off, clicking her tongue. 

"H-His late majesty wanted you to have someone to look after your back."

Just as she thought.

She scoffed which echoed coldly across the wide hall making everyone silent and their breathings shallow. 

"I told you I don't need a bodyguard. I'm afraid I’ll end up saving their asses instead." 

"I-I know, Your Highness. But they've come a long way, so if you would kindly let me bring him before your presence and meet him." The advisor bowed gallantly.

The princess tapped her fingers against her seat as she thought for a moment. Then she said, "All right."

With that, the advisor bowed again before he walked away.

She sighed, pissed.

A minute had passed, but for Lightning - the name she began to call herself since her mother died from the same war her father had been killed - it was forever. 

The huge double doors pushed open and a sound of footsteps clad against the floor, echoing through the stillness. Slowly, the advisor appeared from the shadows along another stranger, who was also wearing black. Their face hidden in the dark as the only light serving the throne was the one coming from the huge windows, but it still wasn't enough to brighten the place for its high ceilings.

"Here he is, Your Highness. Let me present to you Sergeant Noctis Lucis Caelum." Her advisor stepped aside to make way for the Caelum guy who stepped forward, revealing his face through the light. His hair black and spiky but it reflected blue as light touched it.

He bowed with grace and authority before her. "Your Highness."

"Leave us be, Sazh," Lightning said, referring to her advisor, who, then, silently took his leave.

"What made you come here, Sergeant?" She asked, her voice flat. She straightened in her seat.

Noctis slowly raised his body, lifting his gaze to her. His dark blue eyes shone yet his face, unreadable. But the princess admitted that she didn't expect for her would-be bodyguard to look so well and young. She, maybe, was expecting something rougher and older.

She smirked to herself. He looked like a total weakling. Her father never really knew her and what she wanted or needed.

"I was trained to look after Your Highness. The King had chosen me."

Now she wanted to laugh. Her father never mentioned anything about him or someone he would train to look after her. 

"You do know, rather, must know, that I don't need anyone to look after me," she leaned on her seat, crossing her legs.

"I understand. But it is my duty--"

"Thanks for your service, Sergeant. And for your loyalty, but I am sorry to send you back this instance…" she trailed off as an idea hit her. The corner of her lips pulled up into a slight curve. "Or maybe you can go look after my sister for me, since I don't trust the man assigned to guard her. Then report it to me the next morning. Your choice."

The sergeant paused and looked at her carefully. After a moment, he sighed, "All right."

"All right, what? You're going to leave?"

"I'll look after you and your sister," he said slowly, stressing each word.

"What? I didn't mention-"

"I told you, Your Highness, that I was ordered by the late king to look after you. And as you commanded, I'm going to look after your sister as well."

Lightning huffed, glancing down as she thought for a moment. She had to do this for Serah. She couldn't brush the idea of her sister developing feelings towards her bodyguard whose name was Snow Villiers, as what the rumors said. Though, her sister disputed that it wasn't true, however she didn't trust her this time. I'm sorry, Serah.

She lifted her gaze back to the sergeant and said, "All right." 

* * *

The smell of roses wafted in the air. Closing her eyes, Lightning basked in its scent and let it embrace her. The rose garden was the only thing her late mother left as her remembrance. So, she made sure to look after and took care of it herself. It had become her favourite place to go to in the palace. It felt like her mother was there, and never really left.

Reaching for a rose, she heard a faint rustle among the bushes. She stopped. Her senses told her she wasn't alone.

"Who's there?" She called, turning her body slowly. "Show yourself. I know you're there," she said  when, whoever was behind the bushes, didn't come out. 

Then a pair of black boots appeared, the Sergeant revealing himself. 

She crossed her arms, shifting her weight on her other leg. “What are you doing here?”

The sergeant shrugged.  "Watching you?"

Lightning squinted at him and drawled, "Watching, huh… Well, it looks like you're stalking, by hiding in the bushes." 

"Since you said that you didn't like me to watch over you. But I shan't fail the late King of what he ordered me to do as a promise, so I decided to do it in secret."

She scoffed, shaking her head once. "You have a weird sense of humor, aren't you? Besides, we all know he's dead so whether you keep your promise or not wouldn't matter."

"No. A promise is a promise."

"Are you going against me, Sergeant?"

The sergeant straightened his back and bowed slightly. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I do not intend to."

"I am, as you call it, Your Highness. So whose orders are you going to follow?"

"Whoever rules the Kingdom."

"And that's me."

"And your father…"

Lightning gave him a sharp look. This man's testing my patience.

"May I ask a personal question, princess?"

She regarded him a moment before she nodded her head.

"Why is it like you're going up against what the late king wishes for you? It's for your own good."

Her hand balled into fists. Her jaw rigid. "He never knew what's good for me. All he cared about was the Kingdom. And now he thought he knew what I needed? Where was he when I needed him the most?" She then sighed sharply, closing her eyes. Her heart hammering wildly inside her chest. And she thought she revealed too much.

Shooting a glare at Sergeant Caelum, she waited for him to say more or for him to scold her that she got her father all wrong. She wanted to know if her father really cared about her, but all she got from him was a nod of understanding. How disappointing.

They turned silent and still. None made a move. Yet the silence was disturbing, when a gentle rush of wind blew past them, making the rose rustle, as if her mother was urging her to say something. But she’s lost for a moment. What shall I do, mother?

The sergeant cleared his throat, stealing her attention. "Then... will you just let me do what your father wishes this time and watch over you?" 

She sized him up for a moment. Her mother raised a queen that could defend the kingdom, not to be looked after. "On one condition. Defeat me in a spar."

* * *

Lightning took him to the training grounds. In her hand was the Blazefire Saber, her personal weapon which the gods had given her on her 18th birthday.

"Where's your weapon?" She asked when she saw Sergeant Caelum holding nothing.

Without uttering a word, Noctis held his hand, palm open in front of him and then a sword materialized into thin air.

How--

Her grip tightened on her gun-blade, her brows furrowed. She looked at him grimly.

The sergeant swung his sword and placed his body in a stance. 

With a faint huff, and stillness surrounding them, Lightning charged first, swinging her weapon to him which he countered with his sword. 

His sword, Lightning thought, was not unexceptional. Surely, an ordinary person wouldn't be able to gain it. Her eyes flicked to his dark blue ones, feeling an unexpected force. She broke out from the contact and was thrown backwards, the sole of her boots glided against the smooth wooden floor. Good thing she had her balance in check, or she might be thrown off.

"Who are you?" she uttered, almost like a whisper, looking at the man with disbelief. Where did her father meet him?

The sergeant stood straight, his sword disappeared as he placed a hand on his chest and bowed. "I do not wish to fight you, Your Highness. As I told you, I'm here to watch over you."

"Yaah!!!!" Not giving him the chance to utter another word, she launched at him. And in a blink of an eye he vanished into thin air and appeared right behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his body before she could make the fall; her sword fell from her grip. She grunted, and gritted her teeth, trying to hide the pang of embarrassment and humiliation. She's the queen, she must be better. Do better.

"Let go of me," she grunted between her teeth, and the sergeant did so, gently.

"I told you, I do not wish to fight you," he said.

She turned at him, frowning. Her pride refused to speak to him, but the way he held himself only humiliated her more, and was telling her to act how a royalty should.

She held her chin high despite being shorter just a few inches than him. "All right. I can see you’re fit to watch my sister. But not me. I can handle myself."

"I've sworn my life to you."

Lightning paused. Sworn his life. Normally, all of her soldiers had sworn their lives to her, but he, this sergeant, the way he said those words carried such weight as if he’d been preparing all his life for this. To serve their kingdom. Or worse, to serve her, solely.

Not wanting to give up to him yet, she sighed. "Yes, I know. And that means watching over my sister. She needed you more than I do."

The sergeant, intently, stared at her. She shifted on her weight and about to glance away when he spoke, "I know. But how am I going to look after you?"

She chuckled, which sounded like a scoff. She couldn't believe this guy. "You don't need to look after me. I thought we had an agreement that you'll look after my sister."

"Yes, but you are my priority. Don't make me stop now."

"You're stubborn, are you?"

"Maybe."

Then the words, she had been wanting to ask, just slipped off her tongue. "How could you have the ability to materialize a sword and teleport? What are you?"

A faintest smile touched the sergeant's lips. "You are curious it seems, Your Highness."

She didn't like the way he’s looking at her. And that smirk.

"No. I'm not," she tilted the corner of her lips then she spun around, turning her back on him and started to walk away. However, she felt his presence behind. Urgh! She wasn't going to live like this with someone following behind her.

"Stop doing that, you're creeping me out!" she said, sharp.

She heard him smirk. "My apologies. If you want we could talk."

"All right. Tell me how you got the power then I'll let you look after me. Don't leave one bit of information." 

"Certainly, Your Highness. I got it from a near death-experience when I was young. We have been attacked from the war ten years ago…."

Lightning could still remember it, she was eleven and that’s when her mother died. 

Bodhum had been at war against Niflheim, wanting to get their hands on the crystal, which they won. But the enemy kingdom attempted again,  two years ago, which her father had sacrificed his life for. And in her reign, she vowed she would not let what her parents sacrificed to go to waste. She would protect the Kingdom and the crystal as her life. But this sergeant, listening to his story… Etro had blessed him and gave him a prophecy of protecting it - the crystal - thus, her father had chosen him. 

But why him? And not… me? 

Was it also the reason her father tasked him to look after her?

"It was a curse. I know that someday, I'm going to pay its price and sacrifice my life for it… But I'm ready," he said, finishing his story.

She stopped walking, and looked at him. If that was so, and he was called to protect the crystal… she had made her decision.

"No, you're not cursed," she said, "because I need you. And you're not going to die… because who will protect me, then?"

Her face turned soft and then... she smiled. 

And thought, ‘I have to protect him with my life.’

[mysteriesmuse]

Douxie Casperan: One shot

A/N: This is purely self indulgent, I thought the idea of Doux helping the reader out with the hair style of the 12th century would be super great! (In the time period it's basically anything you want goes, but they do have lots of adornments such as the ribbons meantioned!) Enjoy! :)

“Right well,” Douxie pressed his hands together, “It seems we should all go about our set tasks remaining inconspicuous, so we need to get some 12th century garbs."

. . . .

Claire looked towards Y/N, the whites of her eyes showing until at last their fingers grasped at air, ripped asunder under the scrutinizing eyes of these medieval women.

Y/N emerged from the rooms first, “These dresses are so long,” she growls hastily grabbing a fistful of the light cotton fabric stumbling at the utter disorientation. A drastic change of wardrobe.

Her head snaps up at the sound of more foot steps to be greeted with purple trailing up to an elaborate bodice and great puffy sleeves. Claire’s face is now upturned at the corners in a smile, “You look good. I like the sleeves.” Y/N nods her chin towards Claire to which she calls.

"I know!” Claire holds her arms out and does a spin. “Very nice!”

Claire hums with a nod looking over Y/N instead of purple it’s a saturated blue, but the bodice piece is still embroidered with the same fuchsia floss as Claire’s. Noticing this examination Y/N gives a playful curtesy. “Hmm.”

“Wait a minute,” she exclaims, “no fair you don’t have the sleeves!”

“Oh yeah,” with a shrug she chuckles, “they decided that my shoulders were too big for that.”

“Pft, you’d look great in these sleeves.” She replies waving a hand. “I suppose it’s handmaiden duty now. Good luck,” Claire flashes Y/N a nervous grin before exiting the door.

-----

Can’t believe I’m the help.” Y/N mutters pulling out the list of duties the fellow castle staff has given her.

Due to King Arthur’s new ban to the forest and the tension between the magical creatures and humans the staff has dwindled. And, unfortunately, it’s suspected that those running errands have been eaten by the Gumm-Gumms.

“Laundry, Mending, the Baker,” the list ends there, but as the staff assured there’d be plenty to do as a new set of hands as the day continued on.

Y/N continues walking, crossing the giant bridge stretching across the towers. The wind up there easily moves the ever so long dress and the previously unknotted tresses of hair.

Relishing in the warmth of the sun, basket in hand she closes her eyes to enjoy the felling of being up so high.

“I-hey! Ow.”

“Fuzz buckets, sorry love. Are you alright?”

Y/N turns, only to blink up at Douxie. No, it’s indeed the one with blue hair. However, the back is pulled into a man bun up top.

“Oh wow, I suppose that’s in?” Y/N asks tentatively eyes flashing up to the top of Douxies head before meeting his eyes.

“Uh,” he hesitates before answering, “Sure. But I can tell you that your hair situation is a mess.”

Y/N reaches up to grab a hold of some strands of hair, “No it isn’t!”

A defensive holler. Douxie sighs, “That isn’t-oh, for Merlins Sake.”

He grabs at the spare ribbon tied around your wrists, “That’s not what they’re for love.”

“It’s not?” An raised brow quickly kisses the other as it’s followed by an inquisitive puppy dog tilt of the head.

Douxie fidgets. He was not expecting that kind of unsolicited action out of you. Shifting his weight he responses.

“Care if I help you out with that then?” Arm extended back towards the direction he came from with a soft smile. Y/N nods, and trails him back to his room.

“Hold still, this is gonna take a few minutes,” Douxie hums taking out a comb and getting to work on prepping Y/N’s hair.

She sits upon the table quietly, hands placed behind her for support and ankles crossed off each other as she swings them slightly back and forth.

Y/N watches, Douxie’s eyes following the work he was doing with his hands. She can’t see what he’s doing but she can tell that there’s some type of braiding going on.

Douxie works quietly. He’s not shocked at how soft it is, it’s about as rich and luxurious as you’ve always claimed it to be.

He’s skilled at this. Knows exactly what he’s supposed to be doing even after centuries, after all he was born in this one.

“There, viola!” He exclaims, fingers working nimbly, “And a pretty bow to finish it off, for the lady.” Coming around Douxie steppes back with his arms crossed to inspect his work.

Y/N grinned running her hands along the texture, the silky ribbon intertwined and encasing pieces of hair in some manner. “Thank you,” she replies instinctively reaching to grab at a small lock of hair from the base of her neck, preceding to twirl and tug it.

“Anytime, now I have some time travel duties to attend to dear.” Douxie grins with a lopsided smirk.

“So do I, and I’m going to need to ask for your clothes,” she gestures towards the laundry basket on the other edge of the room.

“Why, If you wanted them, you just had to ask.” Douxie replies chuckling, making a few quick paces over to the corner and grabbing the basket before offering it over.

Jumping off the table and walking over to meet Douxie face to face Y/N extends her arms bumping Douxie in the abdomen with a basket of her own, “Thanks. Maybe I will next time.”

Hastily snatching the basket out of Douxies hands she turns right before exiting the door, “Oh and Douxie,” she croons before clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “chin up.”

Douxie blinks his hazel eyes before closing his mouth and making the same tch, “Cheeky.”

-----

After several hours the work of the laundry, mending bin, and assisting the baker with grabbing the right ingredients was finally done for. As an errand servant in the castle Y/N quickly learned how tiring and just how much bustling about from place to place in the castle it was.

With a sharp turn down the hallway Y/N briskly walked to go grab the fabric napkins and she began meticulously, and begrudgingly folding them to be set at the Kings table for dinner.

“Oh blast it,” she growled between her teeth as she placed another folded napkin on the tray. “I can’t seem to get this darn thing to stay.”

After working all day the hair Douxie had so generously put up for her was starting to come undone. Without a mirror and without knowing the actual look all Y/N could do was put it up again by feverishly retying the ribbons end which held the whole thing up.

Perhaps that baby in the village had really tugged the lot of the knot out, Y/N pondered, struggling once again.

A grunt could be heard down the hallway and Y/N and the other castle maids and helpers quickly turned to the grand banquet doors where the sound was heard.

Only to be followed by some more clanking of metal and several loud. Booms.

The staff winced, before seeing a young Hisirdoux round the corner with eyes blown open. Y/N smiled a soft smile at seeing the punk rock boy she knew so shy and young.

He scuttled in and nervously fiddled with his fingers and with the culprit of the loud noise found, and the noises outside subsiding the kitchen staff returned to their duties.

Y/N shook her head slightly, using the palm of her hand to sniffle a snort.

Young Hisirdoux cut his hazel eyes over to her for a second. Y/N simply shrugged and gestures to her work of folded napkins before returning to it.

A few minutes later, with the kitchen mostly cleared out in light of adding finishing touches to dishes in the kitchen. Y/N went about bending over and placing one particular piece of silverware in the place setting around the entire grand hall table.

“Oh, for Pete’s Sake,” she exclaimed at the sensation. Finding the frayed edge of the ribbon dangling over her collarbone once again.

“Oh, hello there.” Hisir-Douxie replied waving his arm energetically.

With a snort Y/N waved back. Douxie was quite goofy back in the day, although, Y/N thought he was still endearingly goofy to this day too.

"You’re one of the people that other-Hisirdou- I mean me, er I brought back in time.” The tone in his voice changing dramatically throughout the entire sentence.

Y/N nodded, “That I am, but you have to kept it a secret.” She replied, making a ‘sh’ sign with her finger.

“Ha, right.” Hisirdouxie giggles while walking over. “Well, I can help with that! I’m training to be Merlins Apprentice after all.” He states matter-of-factly and thrusts a thumb into his chest.

Walking still ever so closer to Y/N, Hisirdoux stares down at the dangling offensive piece of ribbon that’s been bugging Y/N for most the of the morning.

“I could gladly fix that up for you!” He cheers with a wide grin clapping his hands together in delight.

“Really?” Y/N asks turning to face him. He furiously nods his head, hair bouncing around his face. “I’d actually really appreciate that, please.”

With a hurried jump Hisirdouxie rounds the side and hesistates before touching, “May I?” He asks voice breaking just a little.

“Go ahead.” Is the simple answer he gets before he goes in and fixes off the work of his future self coming to a pause at redoing the knot.

“And to finish it off, a pretty bow, for the pretty lady.”

[cycat4077]

Lessons

Summary: You have a little heart-to-heart with a student you're tutoring. Sonny may or may not be eavesdropping. (Set Summer 2016) Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Basically just fluff! Words: 1808 AO3: here

Part 10 of the Changes verse - but it can be read as a one-shot too.

A/N: If this is your first time seeing this series, the reader is a teacher but is in between jobs. Money is tight, you and Sonny are coming out of a big fight and now the squad officially knows about yours and Sonny's relationship. This is just a little fluff filler fic to move things along :)

"The Lean Bean". It's the logo embroidered on the pocket of the uniform you're folding. It's also the place where you've been taking shifts as a way to offset some living costs. The new school year, and a dependable paycheck, is still well over a month away. Sonny had told you not to worry about finding extra work, but the idea of living together without paying for anything didn't sit right with you - especially in such an expensive city.

Reaching into the laundry basket, you pull out a pair of dryer-warmed socks and routinely fold them in two. A clunk at the front door makes you gaze over your shoulder from your spot on the couch. Finally, Sonny is home. You greet each other affectionately, Sonny placing a kiss to your forehead.

"How was your day?" you ask, grabbing another pair of socks to fold.

"Long," he replies but you can tell from his voice that there's something more. You look at him expectantly, offering a gentle smile.

"I, uh," he hesitates, moving around the couch to take a seat. "I spoke to the squad about us today."

Sonny's eyes are apologetic; the fight of a few nights ago is still fresh in your minds. You let him know it's all right by placing a hand atop his knee.

Reassured, he continues. "They're happy for me - for us – ‘n they've noticed that I'm happier too. Actually, before I left tonight Lieu pulled me aside. She said that I have more patience with the vics ‘n that I'm more tolerant when interrogating perps. Doll, I know that I couldn't do any of that if it wasn’t for you."

"That's excellent news, Sonny!" you express, flattered by the compliment as well. "You really are a great detective."

Sonny beams for a moment before his face falls. "Also, 'n I hope you're not mad, but I took the opportunity to talk to Lieu about what happened between us…about me keepin’ you a secret from ‘em."

You feel a twinge of panic in your gut at the thought of Olivia being privy to details of your relationship troubles. That initial feeling subsides however as Sonny elaborates.

"It's just...she knows what it's like ta try ‘n balance life ‘n this job, and - "

But you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. "You don't have to explain, Sonny," you empathize. "It's good to talk things out with someone who understands."

Sonny's warm hand finds yours and he interlace your fingers. "Yeah," he agrees. "She was really sympathetic about it, too. She told me it's normal to feel scared but that it is better to be honest." His mouth curves into a lopsided grin. "Typical Lieu," he shakes his head. "Oh, ‘n I kinda told her about our situation ‘n how you were outta work until the fall - Again, I shoulda asked ya before I went there, but she was really supportive of us. In fact, she gave me the numba of a mom at Noah's daycare who's lookin' for a tutor for her daughter. Apparently she's headed inta middle school ‘n is really strugglin'."

It's a lot to take in but you assure Sonny that you're not upset with him. You appreciate his honesty. Relieved, Sonny wraps you in a hug and tells you again how lucky he is to have you.

As for the tutoring. Well, it's hard to say no. The extra cash will certainly help pay some of the bills that have increased since you moved in.

-x-

Madison is a pretty guarded girl. On the brink of being a teenager, she wants nothing to do with being tutored and everything to do with all else. Her mother dropped her off in a hurry, needing to shuttle her other two children to various extracurricular activities. Unfortunately, this left little time for introductions or for inquiries regarding the areas she particularly needed help in.

You try to be as welcoming as possible, asking her questions about her school work and attempting to understand her learning needs. The girl, however, couldn't be bothered. So, instead of blindly waltzing into curriculum review, you decide to have a little heart-to-heart.

"Madison," you speak, leaning back in your chair. "Do you know why you're here; why your mom asked me to tutor you?"

The girl refuses to meet your gaze. "Well, yeah,” she crosses her arms on your kitchen table. “Mom wants me to be tutored and stuff." There’s definitely attitude behind that tone.

You swallow your annoyance and choose your words wisely. "In simple terms, yes. But I think you know that it’s not for your mom's benefit. It's for you, so that you can start the year off prepared."

"Yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes with a huff. “No matter what, it's never gonna be enough anyway."

"Hey!" you defend gently. "Don't say that! My attitude is that if you know in your heart that you tried your very best, that's all you can do."

Madison studies you through the bangs that hover over her green eyes. For a moment you swear you can see the words getting through, but then she shrugs. "If I get good grades, mom promised to buy me a new iPhone."

How do you put a positive spin on this? How do you connect with this girl? "That's awesome!" you encourage. "You know, in college I was failing calculus." The girl raises her dark brows in shock. Maybe we're getting somewhere. "Yeah, I felt really dumb in that class and I just didn’t understand anything when it came to tests. Needless to say, I was panicking big time when finals rolled around. So, my dad made me a deal. We lived upstate and he absolutely hated the thought of driving in New York City, but he said that if I could pull off a 90% in the course, he would drive me here to see a Broadway show."

Now Madison is listening intently, curiosity etched across her young face.

"Both he and I thought it would be impossible, but low and behold, I hunkered down," you exaggerate a look of concentration and tuck your arms close to your body, "and studied my butt off! I passed with a 93!"

The girl's mouth drops open. "What show did you see?"

You smile fondly at the memory. "None," Madison shoots you a bewildered look, "but we did end up doing other fun stuff. I still like to tease my dad about it though and I guess I should be the one taking him since I live here now."

Madison's features soften and she allows a small chuckle.

"The point is," you say, trying to refocus the girl, "that you'd be surprised what you can do when you put your mind to it!"

You offer her an encouraging smile but Madison's quickly fades as she glances away. "It's...it's just really hard," she admits. "Mom's always so busy with my brother and sister which…kinda sucks sometimes."

Your eyebrows pinch together sympathetically. What can you say to her to let her know that it’s okay? Then your mind flickers to Sonny. "I know it's gonna be hard for me to relate to you on this one since I have no siblings, but my boyfriend comes from a big family. He has three sisters and he tells me that they used to fight like cats and dogs growing up." You can see Madison nod knowingly. "But you know what? Those squabbles really don't matter now. They love each other and they'd do anything for one another." A doting smile spreads across your face, "I'm actually kind of jealous of that. And with you, I bet that you must feel a lot of pressure to look out for your brother and sister, huh?" Madison shrugs sheepishly.

"That's a lot of responsibility, but at the same time, your siblings will appreciate you for it. They may not show you or tell you - they'll still be the same pains in the butt, however once you're all grown up, they will understand how much you've been there for them along the way. Whether you realize it or not, they look up to you. So, the greatest thing you can do for them is be the best version of yourself. By trying your best and working hard, they will learn to do that too - from you." You smile warmly at her and she returns the gesture.

It's not long after that Madison begins opening up. She explains what classes she has trouble with and how she feels about learning it. The information is invaluable and you take notes to plan out future sessions.

Madison's mother arrives a few minutes late to pick her up, but the girl flashes you a friendly smile as she leaves. You hope that you've given her more self-confidence and a little motivation to put forth her best efforts.

After you close the door behind them, Sonny pops around the corner and places a hand on the small of your back. He whispers softly into your ear. "You're amazin’, sweetheart." His breath causes a shiver to trickle down your spine.

"What? Why?" you question as Sonny slips his arms around the front of your waist.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he continues. "The way you were talkin’ to Madison earlier. You've got so much compassion ‘n understandin’."

The warmth of his words radiates throughout your body. You lean your head against his, reaching up to touch the apple pendant hanging around your neck.

"Sorry for eaves droppin' but I heard my name 'n everythin' you were sayin' was just too sweet to turn away. You're definitely in the right profession. Your students are lucky to have you."

You turn around in his arms, slipping yours around his middle. "Thank you, Sonny," you murmur before placing a soft kiss to his nose. "That means a lot."

Sonny's eyes crinkle affectionately at the corners. "N' for what it's worth, you're gonna make an amazin' mom someday too. Watchin' you with her, it was all I could think about."

Your stomach somersaults. You do want kids one day and you can't imagine having them with anyone other than Sonny. "Yeah?" you smirk. "I want that for us one day too. The way you are with children melts my heart."

Sonny's features brighten. "Ya think I'd make a good dad?"

"Absolutely!" You poke his chest gently, right overtop his heart, "you got a lotta love in here, Carisi and someday our children will be the luckiest wee munchkins in the world getting to experience the love that I receive everyday."

Overwhelmed with elation, Sonny lifts you off your feet and into a giant bear hug; a silent declaration that you make him the happiest man in the world.

---

Fun facts:

- IDK if "The Lean Bean" is a real place or not, but it's a pretty accurate description of our favorite detective ;) - The story about the reader's calculus experience is a true story! Except, I'm Canadian so the drive is a little bit further :P

I hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks for reading :3

(Feedback is loved)

Part 11 here!

[cherryonigiri]

Hello! May I ask headcanons for Kiseki no Sedai? Their reaction to their girl being cool and sexually dancing (something like k-pop girl group cover dance, if you know it) with her dance team at a school festival (or something like that).

A/N: Since my character limit is five I chose to do hcs for Akashi, Aomine, Kise, Murasakibara and Midorima, hope that’s fine with you! I immediately thought of Loona’s dance cover of Cherry Bomb by NCT 127 (https://youtu.be/s7kxoMYg3l8) which is so BADASS (both the song and choreography) and Move by Taemin (inspired by Twice’s cover: https://youtu.be/QTfzryUBlO0). Reader is in a group that dances to both in one set! Also I’m assuming the reader is in the school’s dance club/group that decided to do a cover of a lit K-pop song for some kind of school festival!

Akashi Seijuro

Since he is president of the student council, he is backstage helping ensure the performances/festival runs smoothly

Has timings of each performance down to the second — and he knows exactly when you and your dance group is slated to perform

Since your dance group had to submit the songs + a short clip of your performance to the student council, Akashi already knows what songs you are going to perform

Was going to do some more research on what the choreography involved, but you begged him not to because you wanted to surprise him at the festival

Doesn’t stop him from listening to the songs and familiarizing himself with the melodies and lyrics - k-pop is something you are passionate about and he always want to learn more about his girlfriend

While you and your group are on deck and getting ready to go on stage (he knows there are still two more acts before you) he stands next to you

Maybe kisses your forehead I AM SO SOFT FOR FOREHEAD KISSES FIGHT ME

“I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it darling” afjaofe;ja;feka

You’re Akashi fucking Seijuro’s girlfriend - he has high standards and probably would date someone who is equally as hardworking + high achieving as him 

Besides, outside of basketball he knows Rakuzan has an equally formidable dance program so the boy knows you are talented

Is so impressed when you start dancing to Cherry Bomb - the choreography is intense and requires so much synchronization as you switch between all the complex formations - he thinks you could teach the basketball team a thing or two about teamwork

You go HARD with the tutting at the end before you start doing edging your feet out until you’re almost doing the splits - Akashi respects how much strength and training went into performing the dance break + ending flawlessly

When the music changes to Move he is STARING at you - eyes are glued to your form as you perform

The moves are so sensual and he can see how you intensely look out into the audience - he can sense the sexual tension that fills the room 

At the same time is awed by how much control you have over your body - he can see how every movement is planned, from the position of your hands to the way you shift your weight between each dance move

As your hands glide along your body, he can’t help but get slightly turned on

Also glares at all the male members of the student body who are looking at you a little too intently

When you finish your set he calmly hands you a water bottle while smiling proudly

May ask you for a private encore later

Aomine Daiki

You mention the performance in passing, probably while you and Aomine are having lunch on the roof 

Despite his nonchalant response, Aomine remembers that you’re performing in the back of his mind - although he does get the occasional reminder from Momoi or teasing remark from Imayoshi 

Doesn’t really want to get too involved in the school festival - it’s far too rowdy and he thinks the idea his class came up with for the festival is a hassle (imagine if it was a butler cafe LMAO poor Aomine) 

Probably sneaks away from his shift managing his classroom’s booth or to find you and wish you luck (or uses you as an excuse to ditch his shift for a couple of minutes)

He knows you’re good at dance - he’s seen how many hours you spend rehearsing and how much you love dancing (and Kpop) 

Will sneak into the auditorium and probably stand in the middle of the crowd - probably doesn’t see the point of cramming in the crowded area right in front of the stage

Impatiently waits for you to come up on stage, he’s bored and is sick of the skits that other groups are putting on 

When it’s finally your turn he’s focusing intently on the stage. The instant you come out in a badass outfit with dark makeup and a black crop top he grins because you look AMAZING

The music starts and you launch into an intense sequence of tutting and formations shifts that has his eyes widening in surprise 

now he understands why you always felt the need to drill the choreography into your muscle memory, because remembering moves on top of switching spots with everyone else makes the performance that much more impressive

Proud of his badass girlfriend

When Move comes on he smirks - although you can’t see him, he watches you move your hips and trace the outline of your figure 

Can appreciate the sensual yet serious expression on your face that makes you look gorgeous, but definitely does not appreciate the dumbass boys in the audience who are drooling over your body 

After the performance he finds you and kisses you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders

Scowling at the now intimidated boys from before, he says “Gotta remind those idiots that you’re mine”

Will definitely invite you over to his place to spend the night for some “quality time” 

Kise Ryouta

Kise knows you’ll be performing a kpop dance at the school festival and is super excited

He probably helped style you and your team for each song - pulling out some leather jackets and ripped jeans for Cherry Bomb and picking out a diverse all black ensemble + accessories for your cover of Move

He hypes you up all day about the showcase: sends you good luck texts and gives you a hug before you have to go backstage + will keep you company when you do your make up before hand

Is not afraid to elbow his way through the audience so he can have a front row seat to your performance

Made the entire Kaijo basketball team come with him and instructs them to cheer loudly for your performance 

He’s pretty up to date with current music trends and listens to a fair amount k-pop himself so he’d probably recognize the songs you were dancing to + be somewhat familiar with the choreography

When you come on stage he’s already shouting “Go y/n-chii!!!” which makes you smile and you manage to make brief eye contact with him right before you get into your starting pose

It’s like a switch is flicked - you went from being his cute and smiley girlfriend to a serious BADASS - your expressions are so intense and serious Kise can’t help but be drawn in

When he hears the opening line of Cherry Bomb he’s thinking oh shit because damn that choreography is tough

From the tutting, to moving in sync with all the other members, to all the different formation changes - he knows this is a challenging piece to perform

Gave you his leather jacket (he probably got it from a modelling gig or something) to wear and seeing you dance in his jacket is just *chef’s kiss* stunning 

and it lets all the other annoying boys in the crowd know that you’re his because it has his jersey number embroidered on the back 

If people start shouting the fanchants he’ll join in because anything to support his amazing girlfriend

When you all change outfits and switch to move he is dying

He’s right in front of you and you are making very direct and SENSUAL eye contact with your boyfriend while you move your hips into another body roll

Kise smirks back and will pin you with an equally intense and lustful stare

When he sees you after the performance he immediately strides towards you and pulls you into a fierce kiss 

Spends the rest of the festival with his arm around you, bragging about his amazing girlfriend to anyone who will listen, then he’ll take you home and ;) 

May take advantage of perfect copy and learn a duet/routine with you sometime in the future

Midorima Shintaro

MY CARROT BOI — I swear I am taking this seriously

Midorima probably doesn’t listen to too much kpop - he prefers being able to enjoy the lyrics of a song and listening to Japanese music means he won’t have to look up lyric translations

Maybe has heard some Japanese versions of kpop songs on the radio, but is overall unfamiliar with the genre (context: Since Japan has such a huge market for K-pop, it’s not uncommon for groups to release Japanese albums where they sing the the in Japanese) 

When you first mention that your club is going to be performing at the school festival, he probably pictures some cutesy, bubblegum pop girl group song 

Is putting this into his calendar and making sure he sets reminders because he is NOT about to miss his girlfriend’s performance

Secretly happy because you are putting in extra practice for the rehearsal which means you stay late at school. Since basketball practice always runs late he’s glad he now has the chance to walk you home

Day of: checks your Oha-Asa horoscope and makes sure that you have your lucky item - he will buy it himself if necessary 

Knows you worked super hard on this performance so he knows you’re going to be fine

This tsundere carrot shyly wishes you good luck before you head backstage: “Good luck y/n, not that you’ll need it! Nanodayo…” with a slight blush on his cheeks 

Makes his way back to the audience - he made Takao save him a spot

Somehow Takao got his hands on a setlist/hear rumors and figured out what you were performing and is secretly filming Midorima’s reaction because your boyfriend is about to COMBUST

Cherry Bomb comes up and Midorima immediately realizes this is NOT the cute girl group dance he was envisioning

Is probably watching your performance intently - he never realized that your choreography would be this intense and physical 

Probably not as blushy during this one, just entranced and absorbed into your performance (will refuse to admit that he stared at you the entire time, even though Takao teases him about it later)

But when you transition to the cover of Move, oh gosh, this boy goes from stony faced to bright red tomato

Is 100% blushing and gaping at you while you perform the sensual routine, especially when your hands move across your body and you purposefully make eye contact with him

Realizing holy shit my girlfriend is so sexy holy shit you thought he was staring at you during Cherry Bomb his eyes are glued to your figure during Move

Probably rushes up to you awkwardly and gives you a surprise hug before whispering “Give me a little warning next time y/n.” 

You giggle a bit, not mentioning the routine you’re learning on your own (Dally by Hyolyn: https://youtu.be/b75eENj0WCQ) surprise him with it in the future hehehehehehe)

Murasakibara Atsuhi

Murasakibara is hanging out in your dorm room when you mention that you have an upcoming performance

“Ohh y/n-chan that sounds fun”

Lowkey pouty baby because he wanted to laze around during the festival and just spend the day trying all the food with you

Now he won’t have his girlfriend to keep him company for the whole day 

When you ask him if he’s going to come and watch, he’ll agree, because it’s at the school and it isn’t too much of a hassle and he knows you put in a lot of practice so he wants to support

Tatsuya probably still has to remind him about the performance on the day of

On the morning of your performance you wake up to find a bag of your favorite snacks and candies hanging on your doorknob

Murasakibara probably went to the nearby convenience store and bought you a bunch of “good luck” snacks to surprise you

Tatsuya and him walk into the auditorium, is kind of disappointed to see that it’s already packed so he has to settle for a seat farther away than what he liked

Thankfully he’s tall AF so he still gets a clear view of the stage 

Snacks through the other performances/skits and gets pretty bored, he’s here to see you and you only

Finally, they announce your club - Murasakibara immediately perks up with interest

Your group has a badass entrance before you start performing Cherry Bomb

You decided to temporarily dye your hair red for the performance and Murasakibara is surprised when you whip off the hat you were wearing to reveal bright cherry tinted hair

He’s watched you practice the moves several time and knows you struggled to master some of them - super proud when he sees you slay those hard bits of choreography on stage

Move comes on the speaker and he immediately can sense that this is definitely a very sensual dance

Like damn, watching you move your hips to the beat and confidently gazing into the crowd, he is very turned on definitely wants an encore from you in private

When you hit the last pose and the lights dim he is IMMEDIATELY walking out of the auditorium to find you 

Sees that you’re surrounded by some newly acquired fanboys and casually steps in behind you to wrap an arm around your waist

Towers over the guys surrounding at you, a scowl from him scares them off

You giggle at his antics because he’s cute when he’s jealous: “You don’t need to be that mean to them Atsushi” 

“Y/n-chaaaan, can we go get food now?” - probably buys you all the snacks you want because he is proud 

Also suggests that you dye your hair to match his purple locks just because

[fandomsonrequests]

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 2]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 1.8k+

summary:  It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: so here come’s the second part! ALSO- ateez won in The Show today! so good job atiny! WE DID GOOD! Let’s get them more wins! <3 <3 Also forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes or anything- this isn’t proofread :’)) 

again please feel free to message me if you wanna be put into a taglist! <3

↞previous  ♛  next↠

You were about to throw another playful jab at your brother when the sounds of brass trumpets echoed throughout the village. The people around you grew confused as it continued. There were horns in your village, yes, but this was different. It sounded more regal and official compared to the somewhat brash sound of the village horns.

You threw a rather quizzical look to your brother who shrugged in response. Many of the townsfolk around your area left their place and started moving towards the source of the sound, causing you to do the same. You went over to your father, handing him his cane as you three walked towards the exit of your smithy.

“Oi!! Chris! ____!” A voice called out.

You turn your head to see your friend Siyeon come running towards you. Her steps slowed down to a jog beside you, greeting your father as she did. “What do you think is happening?” She asks you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I have no idea.”

The sudden sound of the trumpets caused quite a commotion in your village.

People peeked their heads out of their windows, children climbed trees to look over the tall heads of the adults, even the quarry workers were spotted in the distance as they peered from their place of work and down at the village below them. The people all around you were murmuring to each other, speculating about what was happening. 

“Maybe it’s the city-folk?” Someone on your left said. 

“Traders maybe?” Another replied.

“No- traders aren’t grand enough to do this.”

“Maybe they’re city traders. You know how they are- so full of themselves.”

The folks all around you had different points of view on what was happening right now. Many were curious. Others didn't seem to really care and were just dragged along by their friends. But most of the townsfolk were confused. 

Why was there fanfare coming from an entourage from the city? 

The village was a rather small and quaint place; it was small enough that everyone practically knew everyone around here. There wasn't that much to see or do. The most eventful thing that had ever happened in the village was when a wedding took place during the annual First Moon Festival. And that had happened years ago.

“I think it’s from the palace,” Siyeon whispered over to you, gently nudging your side. “It sounds too fancy to be from the city.”

“Isn’t Capitol a city?” You ask her with a small smile, referring to the area the palace was built. 

Your friend blushed in embarrassment, laughing it off and brushing her black hair to the side. Your eyes followed the movement- rather- the grey streak in her hair for that matter. You remember asking her why she had that in her hair to which she responded that she was just born with it. 

“Well yeah,” Siyeon cleared up with a shrug. “But this just sounds different. Trust me- I know what I’m saying.” She concludes with a wave of her hand.

As the trumpet sounds grew nearer, you could see about four to five flagpoles standing tall. Each golden plated flagpole glinted under the sun, bearing either a red or blue velvet flag. On each flag, golden tassels hung off the edge while an elegant crest was embroidered into the center of it. And wasn’t just any crest- but the royal Crest. 

Siyeon smirked when she realized this and nudged you. “See? I was right. I told you so; didn’t I tell her so, papa?” She asks your father. 

Your father, amused by the banter between you two, decided to humor your friend. “Yes indeed, Siyeon. You should’ve listened to her flower.” 

“Papa..!” You retorted and feigned hurt - quite dramatically. 

“You’re such a drama queen, Yellow.” She laughs, calling you by your nickname. 

You nudge at her with your shoulder, careful not to accidentally push your father in the process. “You started it, Wolfie.” 

You don’t remember how both of you ended up with those nicknames but you do remember that it was on the day both of you got drunk on the day the two of you reached the age of legality. 

Going back, people seemed to grow excited when they realized that the palace had made an effort to travel from the Capitol to the outskirt-mountain village of Trelark with a rather small but handsome entourage. 

"I think a Selection would take place.." Your father murmurs to himself but loud enough for you to hear.

You frown at the unfamiliar term. "What's that?" 

"Its when many young women are elected to be trained by a noblewoman so that one day the prince can pick one of them to marry," Your father explains. "Though I don't know why they picked Trelark out of all places…"

You took note of the worried look in his eyes and the way his shoulders hunched with uncertainty. Your arm came up to gently wrap around his side, giving him a small squeeze. "..so why are you, worried papa? Do you think I'd be elected?"

Your father turned to look at you and shook his head, a sigh escaping him. "You're just like your mother; I can't hide everything from you." He says with a sad chuckle. 

"Don't worry papa, ____ is too in love with the place to leave." Chris steps in after a while of being silent. "And she loves you too much to leave you too."

You only nod at your brother's words. If you were to be selected, they'd have to drag you away. Because there was no way in hell would you ever allow yourself to be separated from your family.

"Oh okay good. I'll just take her place then." Siyeon jokes while flashing a wink at you. 

"Oh please do. You'll make a better princess than me." 

By this time- it seems as if the whole village came out to see what was happening. 

The entourage's flag bearers wore crisp red uniforms, lapels hanging off of their shoulders. They marched alongside the knights who held themselves high. The glare from their spotless armor was practically blinding. 

Many young women gushed over the knights as they passed by, holding onto each other as they tried to catch their attention. 

You could hear your brother chuckle in dry amusement at the girls' reactions. Although deep down you knew that maybe he was a teensy weensy bit jealous of those men in armor. You gave him a gentle nudge- some form of encouragement to cheer him up.

At the end of the short entourage was a small carriage driven by two strong horses, manes well-groomed and tied as a tapestry bearing the royal family's crest hung off their sides. 

The carriage comes to a halt as soon as the fanfare ends. And almost as if in on cue- everyone grew silent. Only the occasional cough or sneeze could be heard. They stared at the carriage and waited for someone to step out. You could practically feel the tension in the air, weighing heavily on all of your shoulders. 

You wince when you feel your father’s grip on your arm tighten. You settle your own calloused hands over his, thumb running over his fingers to help him calm down. You smile at him reassuringly. It’s alright. You tell him with your eyes although your conscience wanted to argue things won’t be okay after this. 

A sudden muted thud from inside the carriage startled you and a few folks around you. The poor scrawny carriage driver scrambled off the driver’s bench and down to the carriage door. He opened the door to reveal a brightly dressed man with a silver beard, trimmed and curled on his chin. You heard someone snicker in annoyance from behind you, something about the old man being a pompous asshole. 

The nobleman stepped out of the carriage and cringed when his polished boots sunk in the mud, causing a few giggles to erupt around you. They quieted down though when his head snapped up, the purple feather on his hat swaying with the motion. 

“Ahem, commonfolk of Trelark,” He starts. For a man his age, his voice was quite clear and crisp. The only problem was the condescending tone he used. “I come to you to deliver a message on behalf of the king!”

Another bout of murmurs erupted from the people around them. The nobleman didn’t seem to like this as he had exaggeratedly cleared his throat again, brows furrowed and sharp nose upturned. Christopher couldn’t help but scoff at the man’s attitude.

“It looks like he has a stick up his butt.” He whispers to you to which you stifle a laugh from. 

You shut up immediately when the man’s eyes shifted over to you, making you purse your lips in embarrassment. The man cleared his throat for the umpteenth time and continued with his speech. 

“As you all know, there had recently been an attempt to assassinate our beloved prince Park Seonghwa. Fortunately, the assassin has been caught and dealt with but our prince is left vulnerable to the future danger that may unfold.” He adjusted the stance that he had on the ground and slipped a little. He grabs the handle of the carriage door to stabilize himself, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

A few young boys laughed at the nobleman earning a glare from him but they didn't seem to mind. He cleared his throat and spoke up again. “As I was saying, the prince is susceptible to any impending danger in the future. To remedy this- the king has requested that a special selection take place.”

You frowned. Special selection?

The man produces a scroll from his satchel and unrolls it to read what this "special selection" entailed. “All able-bodied people from ages eighteen to twenty-four are ordered to be brought to the palace,” he scrunches his nose in displeasure at this. It was evident that the thought of bringing commoners to the palace disgusted him. “And trained under the captain guard to be picked as a suitable protector for the prince. 

“People who fail to pass the standard are immediately sent home. However, only the selected protector shall live in the palace along with their direct family to compensate for their time in training and as a gift of gratitude for their service to the royal family.”

The nobleman closes the scroll and opens his mouth to speak again. “On the morrow, all delegates shall gather here in the morning. The king shall send carriages to fetch you and bring you to the palace. Do not pack anything unnecessary, only the essentials and a few clothes as you will be provided with wear when you arrive.” 

The nobleman huffed and spun on his heel, seemingly relieved to be done with his task. As he moved to step back into the carriage, he slipped again from the mud. His knees hit the ground, soiling his expensive leggings and bloomers. The frantic carriage driver rushed to help the nobleman only to make things worse by slipping onto his bum. 

More laughs resounded from the townsfolk but the nasty glare that was thrown didn’t seem to deter them. The nobleman shoves the driver away, grumbling under his breath about how he hated the kingdom outskirts and shut the carriage door. As soon as the driver returns to his seat, he cracks the whip and proceeds to drive back down the mountain. Once more the trumpeters played a fanfare and marched along with the entourage. 

That's where you let everything soak in. 

If you could get yourself to become the prince’s protector- you and your family could live at the palace and you could finally give the good life you always promised to your father. The thought alone excites you. 

A grin makes its way to your face, eyes bright and hopeful. But as you turn to look over to your father- you notice a deep frown on his face.

This wasn’t good. 

[peridotbelle]

More S5 AU: Liz gets to meet Torren

The door chimed. Surprised, Elizabeth set the box down and went to answer it, revealing two visitors: one familiar and one not-so-familiar. “Teyla! Come in!” The Athosian woman entered with a smile. “Forgive me for interrupting. I know you are busy unpacking. But if you have a moment to spare, there is someone–“ She grinned at the baby in her arms. “-who I would like you to meet.” Elizabeth sent her a questioning glance. Was she sure about this? Even though Elizabeth had been cleared by the joint verdicts of both Doctor Keller and Carson, even though she wasn’t considered an active threat, she wouldn’t have blamed Teyla for being wary with her son.   “Elizabeth, this is Torren.” Elizabeth laughed through a throat tight with emotion as the baby waved his arm in her direction, almost as if he knew he were being introduced. Reflexively, she reached out and took hold of the tiny fist. “Hello, Torren. It’s nice to finally get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Torren wiggled his arm away and shook it at her, his large dark eyes intent yet absent with that baby look of perpetual confusion. “He’s beautiful, Teyla.” Teyla smoothed back a few wispy strands of dark hair from her son’s forehead. “I certainly think so,” she said, her voice warm with affection that bordered on adoration. Elizabeth watched her friend and her child with something like awe. Elizabeth had never seen her like this. Teyla had always been kind and considerate, always vocal about her affection for her people and, in a more subtle way, her teammates. But now sheer love radiated from Teyla’s eyes, rang through her voice, lending her face a sort of glow. It had always been there, Elizabeth realized, but now her friend’s innate tendency to nurture and protect was magnified and unleashed for the whole world to see. “Would you like to hold him?” The offer startled Elizabeth out of her reverie with a jolt of panic. “What?” She liked babies as a general rule, in a distant sort of way, but for the most part had had very little to do with them and thus no idea how to handle them. What if he started to cry? “Oh, no, that’s alright, I wouldn’t want to…” “I have let Rodney hold him without mishap, Elizabeth. I think you will be fine.” Another weak, stuttering protest and then there was no more time to argue because the baby was in her arms and every muscle grew tense in terror of dropping him. The weight was unexpected – he was a solid little thing – and it took her a moment – and a gentle guiding from Teyla – to figure out how to distribute his bulk while holding him upright. At least he was old enough to hold up his head, so she didn’t have to worry about that. She braced herself for the tears, waiting for him to protest being handed off to this strange woman, certain that she was doing something wrong. But a moment passed and the only noises that issued from the baby were a grunt and a little squeal, both oddly charming. “Hey, Torren,” she said, her voice rising automatically into a sort of coo. He craned his downy head up and down, as if taking her in. Suddenly, he rocked, pitching himself backwards, and Elizabeth clung to him frantically. Yet Teyla didn’t seem concerned by this near-disaster, instead smiling as she watched her son wiggle like a hooked fish. The baby gave another little grunt, his tiny hand tapping her on the shoulder, and stilled, settling into Elizabeth’s arms. “You’re quite the active one, I see,” she said with a flustered laugh. “Your mom will have a pair of bantos rods in your hands before you know it.” Teyla’s smile of pride was all the confirmation she needed that this would indeed be the case. Elizabeth studied the round little face, the big brown eyes the image of his mother’s, the stout little body in its patchwork Athosian gown, already so strong. She had no trouble imagining the future warrior he could become, a leader like his parents before him. But there were so many other things too. So much potential, in such a small package. Gradually, the excess tension left her muscles, and the weight and warmth of the little body pressed against hers became less and less frightening. Her nose grazed the top of his head, breathing in that baby smell and feeling the feathery softness of his hair. In fact, the experience was almost soothing. Something elusive, yet warm and calm seemed to grow in the center of her chest, like she’d just downed a shot of whiskey. She began to walk around the room with him, muttering sing-song nonsense phrases. “How are you getting settled?” asked Teyla. “I’m almost done,” said Elizabeth, with a nod towards the small stack of boxes. She gave a feathery laugh, hefting the baby up when he started to slip from her grasp. “There wasn’t exactly a lot to unpack.” The bulk of her belongings had been sent back to Earth months ago, unable to be retrieved without a lot of awkward questions with classified answers. Only those possessions which had been deemed too classified – too alien – for civilian eyes had been left in Atlantis. As she had emptied the few boxes, she had tried not to think of all that was missing – her father’s watch, family photos, mementos from her youth, the majority of her clothes – and forced herself to focus on what was still there: most of her pottery – including the bronze pot that John had given her for her first birthday in Atlantis – the Athosian throw pillows, pictures taken in Atlantis, her journals… Maybe the other items could be retrieved one day, whenever the IOA and the Air Force deemed it safe to declare her “alive” again. But until then, at least she had something, some small pieces of her old life. She had to be grateful for that. The ache in her arms drew Elizabeth’s attention back to the child and she shook the potentially melancholy thoughts away. “I wish I had something to give him,” she said, surveying her belongings with a newly critical eye. Nothing that would make a remotely appropriate gift for a baby. She gave a rueful smile. “Maybe I can take up knitting while I’m under house arrest.” All of the city’s common areas was hardly a limited area to be confined to, but Teyla seemed to know what she meant. “The thought is very kind,” said Teyla, reaching out her arms to take back her son. “But no gift is necessary. Athosians do not have-“ She thought for a moment, as if searching for the right phrase. “-baby… showers.” At the look on Teyla’s face, Elizabeth laughed. Yes, Earth customs – and their accompanying phrases – were weird. “In any case, Torren has already received an ample number of gifts from members of the expedition. Doctor Keller, Amelia Banks and several others were most generous.” Torren yelped and Teyla cooed at him. “Yes, they were, were they not?” A thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind. She folded her arms, mouth lifting in a smile. “John gave him a football, didn’t he?” Teyla rolled her eyes and the two women shared a fond, exasperated look. “Yes. Yes, he did.” She shifted the baby to her other hip. “Still, he meant to share something of importance to him with my son and that intention has great value. Rodney did the same.” That was unexpected, and oddly sweet. “Rodney? What did he give?” “He most kindly recorded a series of scientific lectures for me to play for Torren while I was pregnant." Elizabeth smiled, touched and amused at the same time. That had to be the most Rodney McKay gift to ever exist. But then again, she thought, she shouldn’t have been surprised at the scientist’s generosity. After all, when high on Ancient DNA therapy, he had written her a 400 page book about… herself. “That is… very thoughtful,” said Elizabeth. “Indeed it was.” They exchanged another look of shared mutual affection for the men they worked with, with all their eccentricities and flaws and good, generous hearts. Teyla and Torren left after another few minutes, Elizabeth returning the boy’s mother-assisted wave farewell. She turned back to her boxes, feeling better for the company. Raising the lid on the penultimate box, she lifted out an embroidered blanket and paused at what she saw underneath. There, tucked safely between a paperweight and a notebook, was a flashdrive. She smiled. A flashdrive containing a 400-page book by Rodney McKay.

[justwritethatdown]

Angst with a happy ending (cause I am weak) set after PP3

This is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written and I don’t even know if it’s angst at all…

Anywayy I wanted to tell you guys that I have an AO3 account now so if you want to check that out there are my best (the ones that suck less) works and I will post there all my future ones!

Read below or on AO3

Words Count: 4.5K

Rating: M 

Warrings: mention of panic attack

Come home to my heart

“I think you should tell her, before it’s too late" said Amy with a casual tone and Beca felt that clamp at her stomach intensify, she scoffed “and what am I supposed to say? I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember but I’ve never had the guts to tell y-“ “Absolutely not!” Interrupted her Aubrey in a strict tone, she seemed mad even “she waited to hear that for so long, you have no right to say it now” she added. The three girls were waiting for the other Bellas outside the ‘House of Gowns’, a wedding dresses shop in Portland….

“It’s too late Beca, it would be incredibly selfish from you to throw this at her now that she’s getting married”. Beca wiped the stupid tear that had fallen down her cheek while Aubrey was talking and huffed “yeah, you’re right”. Suddenly they saw Chloe’s car arrive “don’t let her see you like this" suggested her former captain and Beca hurried to hide around the corner to compose herself. Amy shot Aubrey a disapproving glare before loudly greeting Chloe, who was getting out of the car with Jessica and Stacie. The other Bellas arrived shortly after and Amy made up a cover story for Beca’s delay, so Chloe decided to start without her.

When Beca entered the room, Chloe was standing on a dais, the white dress she was wearing was breath taking; it had a tulle corsage with a neckline that let uncovered her shoulders and a generous amount of her backside, embroidered on it there were several white lacy flowers that cover it up almost completely and some of them where also peppered across the gown, formed by many overlapped layers of chiffon. From the three parts mirror Chloe was standing in front of, the brunette could see that the flowery corsage was generous on her front too, it hugged her breasts in a heart shaped cleavage leaving her chest and shoulders on display. Though what really affected Beca was the way it lightened up Chloe’s face – or maybe it was the joyful expression and the twinkle in her eyes to do that. Chloe saw Beca’s reflection in the full-length mirror and immediately turned around with the brightest smile “Beca, you’re finally here!” she cheered “I think this is the one. What do you think?” she asked gesturing at her dress.

Beca felt the room spin. It was perfect, Chloe was perfect, she was everything Beca’d ever needed, everything she could ever need, and so much more. But she’d been too afraid to admit it to herself – let alone confess it to the redhead – and now it was too late, Chloe was getting married to that pompous marine and she looked so happy. Aubrey’s words kept echoing in her head; she knew, deep down, that Chloe always felt something more than friendship for her, but Beca kept pushing her away, too afraid that letting her too close, Chloe would have found out that she wasn’t worth it and would have left her heartbroken and vulnerable. She’d know for so long but didn’t do anything about it, and now it was too late, she had lost her chance – the only chance she could have at being truly happy.

She felt all the air being sucked out from her lungs “I can’t breathe" she whispered. The room kept spinning faster and faster around her, she had to get out of there. She turned around and sprinted for the door, not noticing the worried looks of her friends, nor the soft and confused sound of Chloe calling after her. The brunette pushed past the glass door and didn’t stop until she reached the wall of the building across the street. She leaned into it with both hands, trying to breathe.

All the Bellas, including Chloe, rushed behind her but the store clerk stopped the redhead “excuse me ma'am, but you can’t leave in that” he said pointing at the wedding dress, Aubrey momentarily considered to argue with him, but she figured it made sense and offered an apologetic smile to her friend before rushing out of the store.

“Hey midget” said Amy in the sweetest tone she could manage, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. Beca was desperately trying to breathe but it was like she couldn’t find any oxygen in the air around her, she was damp in cold sweat and her vision was blurry, she rested her head on the bricks in front of her, her heart had never beaten this fast in her whole life. All the girls were surrounding her, and she could feel their worried stares burning into her, she wanted to tell them she was okay, to go back to Chloe, but she apparently didn’t know how to form words anymore because all she could do was gasp. She wanted to scream at them to give her some space, to l- “let her breathe!” shouted Aubrey pushing the scared girls aside to gently grab Beca’s forearm, guiding her to sit on the ground and kneeling besides her. She gulped at how pale Beca was and grabbed her hand “it’s okay Beca, it’s okay. Just breathe with me" “I can’t Aubrey! I think I’m gonna die" she gasped looking at the tall blonde terrified “you’re having a panic attack, you’re not going to die" she assured her “you just need to breathe, everything’s gonna be fine" she added.

Nothing was gonna be fine, Chloe was getting married and there was nothing she could do about it, she couldn’t even tell her how she felt. All the feelings she kept inside for so many years were suddenly rushing out and for the first time she didn’t want to keep them in, just when she had to. Beca thought about all the times she could have confessed her feelings to Chloe, all the times she should have done just that, but she didn’t. And now that she had to keep them in, she suddenly felt the need to let them out. She was so mad at herself that she was shaking, her fingers gripping hard onto Aubrey’s like if it was the only thing keeping her alive. “I lost her" she whispered “she was never yours to lose, you idiot” a voice in her head told her. Aubrey remained silent, gently stroking her back and taking deep breaths as if she was in a birth class, trying to get Beca to do the same thing.

Chloe reached them running and thrown herself on the ground, almost knocking Aubrey down. She gently put a hand on Beca’s cheek making the brunette look up at her “Beca…” she pleaded, her eyes shining with tears she was fighting to keep in. “Chlo…” breathed Beca in surprise, her eyes widen like if she’d just saw an angel. Chloe pulled her into a tight hug and Beca let go of Aubrey’s hand to wrap her arms around Chloe. Suddenly she felt the oxygen fill her again, together with Chloe’s scent and her heart relaxed. Chloe’s always been her anchor; every time she felt overwhelmed by something or started spiralling, holding her tight, or even just thinking about Chloe, made Beca feel better, like she could face anything, but now she had to move on, she couldn’t relay on Chloe to ground her anymore. The thought brought her an incredible sadness and she started sobbing onto the redhead’s shoulder.

Chloe held her the whole time, until she sniffed and lightened her grip on the sweatshirt Chloe was wearing, but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene" she sobbed and Chloe pulled back enough to look at her “I tried not to, this isn’t fair to you” she continued, and saw the tear strained face of the redhead shift in something that looked like pain, as if she’d just punched her in the stomach “no, it’s not” Chloe breathed out, suddenly pulling away from Beca and rising to her feet. She pushed through the shield of women surrounding them and only stopped because Amy grabbed her arm turning around “come on Chloe, the girl just gave herself a panicked attack trying not to tell you, you can’t be mad at her for ruining your day" she told her a little harshly “well that’s funny, since she’s always been a pro at not telling me how she feels" spat out Chloe freeing herself from the Australian and walking away. “Chloe!” Aubrey called out chasing her.

“She’s right" weakly admitted Beca pulling up her knees to bury her face into. Flo and Emily crouched down to comfort her, and Stacie leaned her back on the brick wall sighing “what a fucking mess".

They were near Chloe’s car, parked outside the shop, when Aubrey reached the redhead “hey, talk to me" she gently offered and Chloe quickly turned around, fresh tears streaming down her face “this is so unfair, Bree" she sobbed “I spent so long trying to move on, because it was hopeless waiting for her to come around! And it was so painful and so hard! And now that I’m finally happy, she does THAT!?” “I know, I know" simply stated Aubrey pulling her into a comforting hug, trying to hush her sobs “why does it have to hurt so much?” she mumbled against her and Aubrey sighed tightening her embrace. Chloe let her friend hold her while she cried, she was tired of crying for Beca, she didn’t think her heart could stand all that constant pain anymore.

Once her sobs calmed down the blonde pushed her up straight and wiped her tears with the palms of her hands, Chloe looked across the street “they’re all on her side" she huffed “no, they’re not! There are no sides here" tried to argue Aubrey, before turning to see that Amy was still looking angrily at them, arms crossed on her chest “Amy is…” Chloe scoffed matter-of-factly “well, I am on yours then" promised her the blonde.

“You need to stop blaming yourself, Beca! It’s not like you could have controlled it" repeated to her Cynthia-Rose. They were gathered at Ashley’s house, not far from the corner Beca had just finished crying on. “I know, but I still have ruined everything, intentionally or not. It’s over now and she’s right to be mad at me" retorted Beca, holding her head in her hands “I don’t think it is. Over I mean, I don’t think it’s over" intervened Stacie “sure, your timing sucks, but now that it’s out there, you might as well fight for what you want” she suggested “what’s the point? She hates me" lamented Beca and Stacie laughed at her, quickly clearing her throat when all the heads in the room turned to look at her in disapproval “Beca, I know love when I see it, and that reaction she had? That was it!” “guys…” interrupted Ashley “sorry. Aubrey texted the group chat, she said Chloe wants to follow the day’s schedule and meet us at ‘Queen’s Cakes’ in twenty” she informed them “she can suck it!” spat out Amy “Amy!” scolded her Beca “I’m the one to blame here, not her" she said and the Australian got up grunting. The girls made their way to the door “you’re not coming?” asked Emily to Beca “I think Stacie’s right" blurred out Lily.

Beca couldn’t believe she let them convince her to actually go after Chloe, but there she was, in a flower shop near the bakery her friends were in, looking for a bouquet.

“How’s Beca?” Aubrey asked Amy between tastes of fruity cakes “what, you care now?” scoffed the Australian without looking away from her plate “of course I care, she’s my friend!” hissed Aubrey offended “You have something with chocolate maybe?” requested Amy to the confectioner, completely ignoring the skinny blonde.

After picking the wedding cake, the girls left the bakery and found Beca waiting for them – for Chloe – outside. Stacie quickly grabbed Aubrey, who immediately come to attention at the sight of the brunette “I know you want to protect Chloe, but I think you should let them sort things out" she suggested and was surprised when Aubrey agreed. The Bellas let them their space taking a step back and looked from afar as Chloe tentatively approached Beca.

“Hi…” said shyly Beca “what are you doing here Beca?” asked dryly the redhead, so she offered the orange bouquet to her. Chloe suddenly frowned at that, almost outraged. “T-they’re Tiger Lilies, the flower lady said they mean ‘I dare you to lo-” “I know what they mean.“ interrupted her Chloe, “how dare you!? How dare you tell me something like this? When the whole time I’ve done nothing but love you and YOU were the one who didn’t dare facing her goddamn feelings!”, she was shouting and her voice was trembling, she grabbed the flowers from Beca’s hands and tossed them on the ground making her flinch “don’t you dare stand in front of me and demand something from me like I owe it to you” she sobbed, letting tears flow from her eyes.

Beca didn’t know what to say, she agreed with everything Chloe was saying – shouting – to her and her heart was breaking at the sight of the redhead falling apart before her eyes “please don’t marry him" she begged with a sob “why? I love him and he wants to start a family with me! Why wouldn’t I marry him?” she ragged at her “you hate what he does" spat out Beca “he risks his life to protect us!“ shot back the redhead “protect us?” scoffed the brunette “he follows orders without questioning them. I know you don’t buy that ‘exporting democracy’ bullshit! America, or at least those who give orders, don’t give a shit about other countries or people’s right, they want to colonize them, to take their oil! You always despised war, but now that you met him soldiers are suddenly heroes” Beca didn’t know why she was saying all that, it wasn’t the point, she didn’t care about any of it. The point was that she was in love with Chloe and couldn’t live without her.

“He loves me!” she sobbed “I love you!” shouted Beca and saw Chloe’s eyes go wild at that “I have been waiting for you for years after you and Jesse broke up. I was all but subtle while we were living together, but you always turned me down, and now?” she lowered her voice “now that I’ve finally moved on and I’m happy with someone else” it was clear how physically painful it was for her to force those words out “now you decide to finally tell me that you love me?” “…Chloe" breathed out Beca “it’s too late Beca, I’m done with this. I’m done with you" cut of Chloe wiping her cheeks before walking away.

A supercut of memories started flashing before her eyes “Hi! Any interest in auditioning for our acapella group?” “you can sing!” “you should audition for The Bellas” “I’m so glad that I met you" “I think we’re gonna be really fast friends" “Beca should take my solo" her tears kept falling like waterfalls “…is that I didn’t do enough experimenting in college” the visions increased in speed with every flash, “we should move to Brooklyn together" “it’s okay, we don’t mind sharing a bed, right Becs?” until it reached something that felt like an explosion and the imagine of Chloe kissing Chicago for the first time stood still before her eyes, she groaned desperately trying to get it out of her head.

The Bellas, except for Beca, went home with Chloe – at her parent’s house – and were trying to calm her down, but she was a mess. Chloe was sitting on the couch, knees up to her chest and a mattered tissue balled up in her hands and kept sobbing and ranting about how unfair it was from Beca to try and stop her from marrying Chicago, about how painful it was to pin after her for all the years the girl was with Jesse “I never asked her to break up with him did I?” she cried “She could have told me how she felt any day for about four years, why now? Why as soon as I moved on, she felt the need to tell me?” “maybe because she realized she was losing you?” suggested Emily but the glare Chloe shot her made her gulp and lower her head “I think she got jealous back during the use tour and-“ tried Flo “but she still hasn’t done anything about it!” Chloe interrupted her screaming with rage “she could have been in time back then, I would have ditched him in a heartbeat” she sniffed “uh actually, she wanted to tell you after her performance, but when she saw you two smooching she thought you didn’t care” mumbled Amy “then why now? Why should I care now?” “I think she tried to push it down and let you be with him, but now she realized she can’t do that" said Lily quietly, but loud enough for the girls to hear her.

Chloe buried her face in her hands groaning “why is this happening? I was supposed to be happy, not crying all the time! I don’t know what to do". “Look Chloe, I know people don’t like it when I drop my wisdom on them, but don’t you think that maybe you wouldn’t feel so confused if you were marrying the right person?” offered Amy, raising her eyebrows as if she was stating the obvious, and Chloe just stared blankly at her, with her reddened nose and puffed eyes. She was right, if Chloe had loved Chicago the way she loved Beca, she wouldn’t feel like this, sure she would feel sorry for Beca, she would cry with her and tell her how sorry she was and how important their friendship was to her, but she wouldn’t be so exhausted and destroyed, and she definitely wouldn’t be – in the back of her mind – trying to find a way to explain to her fiancé why she couldn’t marry him.

Beca had decided to lock herself in the flat she rented for the two weeks she and the Bellas were supposed to stay in Portland and help Chloe sorting out wedding stuff – their bridesmaid’s duty, as Aubrey called it – and had opted for a shower, hoping it would calm her down after hours of uninterrupted crying. It didn’t work and now she was laying front down on the couch, her damp hair wetting the shoulders of the oversized hoodie she was wearing, when she heard the doorbell “Amy go away, I told you I want to be alone” she lamented standing up and walking to the door, swinging it open.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the redhead standing awkwardly at her door, chewing on her bottom lip “Chloe" she gasped in shock, she wanted to ask what she was doing there, maybe even crack a joke about her getting lost or something “…would you let me in?” asked the redhead weakly “y-yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Please come in" blurred out Beca clumsily stepping away from the door. Chloe step inside and closed the door behind her. The loft was huge and well furnished; it was one giant open space and from the living room she was in, with a large couch and flat screened tv, she could see the bed on the far corner in front of her, with black wooden headboard and white sheets, the kitchen on the other side, with a wide island and modern electronics and the only door – the bathroom she assumed – was incorporated into the wall art on the couch’s side. “Wow this place is amazing" she stated unconsciously, still looking around in admiration.

Before Beca could reply to the comment, she saw the redhead frown and followed her line of sight to the smashed headphones – her favourite ones – abandoned on the floor, and felt a jolt of embarrassment “what happened” Chloe asked looking back at her slightly shocked “I-I can’t listen to music anymore…“ she said swallowing hard “it reminds me of you” she admitted softly and looked up trying to keep in the new rush of tears forming in her eyes, tongue pressed hard on the front of her upper teeth as she breathed in through a bitter smile, Chloe’s frown intensified and Beca was scared she would have started yelling at her again “but… music is you life!“ she said in disbelief “you are my life!” Beca thought, and this time she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop her tears from flowing “oh for fuck’s sake” she cursed under her breath turning around and pressing her hands over her eyes, annoyed at herself for not being able to control her emotions, and started sobbing again.

“Oh, Becs” she heard the redhead whisper shakily before feeling her arms wrap around her as she pressed their bodies flushed together. She instinctively relaxed into the hug and brought her hands down to Chloe’s arms, squeezing gently, then she felt the redhead place a soft kiss on her temple and her breath trembled. When Chloe started peppering slow lingering kisses on her cheek and gently squeezing the fabric of her hoodie, pressing more firmly her front into Beca’s back, the brunette leaned into her. Beca could feel every shallow breath Chloe was taking on her skin and forgot to breathe herself. She suddenly sniffed and wiped her face as best as she could with her sleeve, before tentatively turning in Chloe’s arms.

The redhead didn’t step away from her, so she slowly tilted her head up, carefully and Chloe stood still, waiting for those pink soft lips to kiss her. Beca stopped when she felt Chloe’s breath on her mouth, but the almost imperceptible tremor of Chloe’s body, made her lean in all the way. After the first soft bush of their lips, something snapped, and Chloe fervently depended the kiss. It was messy and harsh, desperate, full of anger and regret, teeth scraping at lips and hands frantically roaming over their bodies and into their hair. If any of them were able to think in that moment, they both would have thought that it was nothing like how they imagined their first kiss would have been, and they both imagined it countless times now.

Beca didn’t notice they were moving until her back violently collided with the pillar standing in the middle of the room, Chloe was aiming for the bed, but the column would have to do. She pushed the brunette up against the hard, flat surface and started to grind against the knee Beca promptly bent for her, her hands pulling at damp dark hair while she kept kissing her deeply. Beca was more gentle, but as desperate as Chloe, both her hands were on Chloe’s face, keeping her close, one of them slipped into red hair when she felt Chloe’s humid hand move past her hoodie and rise to grab her breast “is this okay?” rasped breathless the redhead against her mouth “yeah" assured Beca with a gasp, followed by a moan when the girl’s other hand reached her ignored breast, squeezing them together.

Suddenly Chloe’s body disappeared from hers and Beca’s eyes flew open for the first time in a while. She’d winced at the light, if it wasn’t for the mesmerising image of Chloe, flushed and out of breath, standing in front of her. The redhead’s look, when she slipped two fingers into the waistband of Beca’s leggings and waited, was so intense that Beca forgot how to speak and could only nod frantically at her, the second later her bottoms were gone and Chloe was kissing her again. She took one of Beca’s thighs and held it up around her waist with her left hand, while sliding the long and slender fingers of her right hand through Beca’s wetness. The girl abruptly broke the kiss to slam her head backwards against the wall supporting her, hushing out a breathless “yes" and Chloe took the opportunity to press her smirk into the newly offered skin to kiss and suck at her throat, before starting fucking her hard.

When Beca woke up she was sore, but in a good way, she could still feel the ghost of Chloe on her skin, she opened her eyes to look at the redhead, but all she found was white sheets and pillows. Her heart sink when she realized Chloe was gone and reality hit her like a bucket of ice; Chloe was getting married in less that a week, and last night was probably one last itch she needed to scratch before doing so. Beca felt tears burn in her eyes again and she let herself fall back on the matrass. She didn’t even bother to get dressed and went back to sleep. However, her depression nap was disturbed by an impetuous Australian, shouting and throwing at her what Beca believed was her cell phone “Midget where the hell have you been?” “Amy what the fuck?” she gasped sitting up straight holding the sheets against her still naked body “I gave you that spare key for the emergencies!” “this kinda is an emergency, if you’d bothered to charge your phone, you would know everyone is looking for you!”

Beca plunged in the charger and turned on her phone, 15 missed calls, 7 of which were from Chloe, 62 messages, 40 of which were from Amy, and two emails from work “what the…” she exclaimed under her breath. Amy throw some random clothes at her “get dressed we’ve got to go, wedding’s off"

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I thought you got scared again and decided to run away" lamented Chloe holding Beca’s arms “I- you left without saying anything and I…” explained Beca looking down at her hands “I thought last night didn’t mean anything to you or that maybe you regretted what happened and left me" “last night meant the world to me" smiled at her Chloe “I went to talk to Chicago, I won’t marry him" informed her the redhead and Beca smiled brightly at her “so, does that mean..?” she trailed off leaning in and Chloe met her halfway. They shared a deep tender kiss, completely different from those they shared the night before, this one was full of hope and promises and love, Beca smiled into the kiss and Chloe couldn’t help but do the same.

When they parted Chloe tuck a lock of brown hair behind Beca’s ear “do you wanna go back at the loft? I really love that bed" she asked biting her lip and Beca smiled again “I love you“ she whispered and the look she got from Chloe this time was one of pure joy, one that Beca decided she wanted to see for the rest of her life “I love you too” said back Chloe before pulling her into another kiss.

Back at the loft, they took things slowly this time, taking their time to admire every inch of skin getting progressively exposed while they lovingly undressed each other.

“I’m sorry for fucking up your life" said sincerely the brunette, smiling at her exhausted in the afterglow “you are my life” told her Chloe rolling on top of her.

[orginaldisneychild95]

Some Enchanted Evening (Pt 2)

It’s getting close to 7 o’ clock and Arista was just finishing up getting ready for her date with Stephen.. the loud strumming of her nerves and the gentle pound of her heart made it difficult to concentrate..

As she’s admiring her final touches in the mirror, she’s quietly hoping that Stephen’s eyes will be lost within her tonight.. that he can’t and won’t stop admiring and adoring her. She was well aware of the wonderful and indescribable effect she had on Stephen, but tonight that effect was going to be on display, and she was ecstatic to see how Stephen would play it out. A blush blossoms on her cheeks, a tremble courses through her body.. she’s ready.

Her beautiful raven locks, half up and half down.. romantic waves all throughout. A cream colored, shoulder strapped silk blouse, with a slight dip to her breast.. soft shape and curves over flowing lightly. Medium sized pearl buttons flow from directly under her chest, down to the center of her stomach, graces her body.. a subtle hug at the waist, emanating the look of a corset just not as tight. Her favorite golden yellow skirt, slightly below her knee, embraces her waist.. pale, metallic hibiscus flowers, in a soft lilac shade are embroidered all around. The flow of the skirt is airy, fluttering, like petals. The skirt is secure on her waist by a cream leather belt, thin sized, a silver classic buckle in the front. The topping of the package, Tan, strapped, medium wedged heels, iridescent stud earrings, light make up, powder, soft pearl eyeshadow, blush, and a rose pink lipstick, kissed with a soft gloss..

With one last look in the mirror, she smiles with approval.. walks towards her bed, grabbing her purse. As she puts her hand on the door knob, Stephen calls out to her in her mind.. “Are you almost ready, honey? I’m dying to see you” The soft baritone over lover sending subtle vibrations all over her... Arista opens the door and walks out into the hall, a playful smile on her face as she replies.. “Yes my dearest, more then ready. Where will you be so I can find you?” The enamored young woman is floating on a cloud, fighting to contain the excitement in voice.

Stephen chuckles softly, “Good, that’s what I was hoping to hear. I’ll be outside right by the gates.. Come and get me.” A smile in Stephen’s voice. Arista gasp with a giggle as he lets the connection go, this man was definitely going to be the death of her.

(***)

Arista finally nears the gate and comes to sudden stop, everything around her continued to flow... The sun setting outside, the sky grapefruit pink, the air a sultry blanket of gentle humidity kissing her skin. However, the weather isn’t what causes her to go into shock.. across the way, right in from of her is Stephen. The man she loves and adores, is looking the most phenomenal she’s ever seen him.. A soft blue button down shirt, sleeves rolled up at the elbow.. powerful chest and broad shoulders accentuated.. fair skin compliment beautifully. A black belt sits at his equally powerful abdomen, holding the casual/dress slacks in a shade of concrete gray, suede black dress shoes. Finally, a single watch on his wrist. 

Only another second past when Stephen notices Arista first, he smiles brightly.. Arista smiles right back, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them.. Arista’s heart beyond her restraint..

Stephen is taking her all in with his eyes, both her hands in his.. savoring the precious vision before him..

“My god, I’ve seen so many beautiful sights in my time.. but this moment surpasses that. You’re a dream, honey.. an absolute dream. I have feeling that’ll be hungry tonight... but food won’t be what satisfies me.” He touches his forehead to hers, a very heated gaze into her eyes.. Arista is almost breathless but can’t contain her soft but excited smile, her face growing hot... “I can very freely say the same about you, Doctor... I’ve never seen a more handsome, gorgeous man in my sights. What your plan to drive me wild with temptation?” Arista’s voice a soft whisper.. Stephen chuckles, rich and deep.. “Maybe, you’ll have to find out”. He takes one of her hands and kisses it softly, Arista’s eyes softly fluttering at the sensation of his lips.. 

“Let’s get going, I’m anxious to get this night started.” Stephen winks at her. 

“Take me where ever you wish, dearest Stephen” Her lip nibble and wink following after reply..

(***)

A short walk later... the beautiful couple is sitting across of each other at cozy table at a very old, but classic Italian bistro. Original structure, beautiful photo’s and art pieces on the walls. Frank Sinatra softly crooning in the background and the soft murmurs of other customers conversing amongst each other at their tables.

Stephen was in full control tonight, just to indulge in pleasing Arista.. he didn’t want her to lift a single finger, just savor, imbibe, and ultimately let the pleasure of being treasured as the woman she is course through her body.. and it all started with ordering their drinks.. an old fashioned for Stephen and light Moscato for Arista..

“So, we’re finally here... I have to admit that I was fearful it might not happen. Especially since Wong found out before I could tell him” Stephen has a sparkle in his eye as he reveals the truth, Arista shocked with a grin on her.. “Really?” She replies in disbelief “Master Wong already knew?... that’s incredible. However, I’m glad that we didn’t have to lie or pretend and the greatest vantage point to that freedom is that we’re both of age and wise adults” Arista says proudly, a light giggle in her voice. She takes another sip of her wine, the effect of the alcohol already softly swimming in her body..

Stephen mimics her movement with his drink, deciding to take the conversation in another direction.. “Well, guess what? Now that I have you, especially out of hiding I have absolutely no intention of letting you go. As a matter of fact, I have very special plans for us.. but, we need to be away from the karmataj” A devilish tone in his voice, not just as a fact but a promise.

“Mmm, hmm.. already planning on whisking me away, Stephen? laughing musically already knowing his answer. She decides to play with him.. Her eyes taking on a flirty gaze, she ask “May I ask what is you plan to do with me?” Her voice laced with sensuosity..

Stephen laughs quietly, loving her subtle boldness.. which always drove him wild about her.. He replies, his crystal blue gaze arresting her. “Oh baby, you know very well I can’t reveal all of my secrets. Besides, good things come to good girls who behave”... Stephen’s delicious baritone laced with mischief but promise..

“Oh my... well.. then if I’m in danger, I definitely don’t want to be rescued” Arista smiles a sexy, playful smile. Stephen smiles back, suddenly he slowly leans forward in his chair, his eyes not letting hers go, Arista follows his movements until both of them are a tad closer to each other.. the candle in the middle of the table glowing softly around their faces..

“Be very, very careful what you wish for, honey. You just might get it. Maybe.. tonight.” Arista’s eyes were already softly swirling, her mouth watering.. Stephen’s hot gaze consuming her entirely, the decadent affirmation of his words etching themselves in her soul.

(***)

Already almost done with their pasta dishes, Arista can’t remember the last time she had such a delicious meal.. and Stephen was the most exquisite dinner companion. They talked about everything, from what they both wanted and needed for each other and themselves, future plans after Arista completes her training.. which became a bittersweet topic because it meant that separation between the two of them word have to happen...

Finally, what they both wanted in terms of intimacy..

Stephen puts her at ease after their previous subject... “Arista, listen to me.. it doesn’t matter where we are after you leave. We’re going to be together no matter what, visits are an option and if want to come back to Karmartaj to see me, you absolutely can. Nothing will keep us apart, baby.. I promise”.

Arista gives herself to his declaration, believing every word. She sighs blissfully before replying, “Oh Stephen... you’re incredible. I love that you always keep the shadows of doubt at bay from my thoughts. Just so you know, I’m well aware we’ll be able to remain together. It’s just, the though of you not being near... I practically... ache all over” Her voice a breathy air. Stephen knew she was serious but could tell that her next words, were leading to a game..

Smirking, Stephen coaxes her to continue.. “Oh? and I can heal that ache? Is that what you want from me as a man? his voice taking a tone that causes the world around her to disappear..

Arista feels the sensual potion of lust and wine intertwine itself all though her.. “Yes my dearest, as a man.. my man. I want everything thing you could possible give me... goodness knows, I crave you endlessly. A thirst I don’t want to quench”...

Stephen shifts in his seat, welcoming the heated sensation coming to life in his body.. suddenly there’s a sizzle in the air between them an electric crackle... Stephen wishes he could grab her and have his wicked way with her right there, but.. he had another plan...

“Oh baby... as woman you’re not asking for much at all. However, as my woman... if you remember a while back a ago.. my goal is to leave you not just wanting more, but to also leave you endlessly satisfied. And trust me when I say that sitting across from you right now, with you looking the way you look, so sweet and ripe to bite.. I’m under torture” Stephen’s words are quietly breathless.

The next words out of Arista’s mouth are enough to take their evening to another level.. “Why wait, Doctor? .. Come take a bite.”

[huck-west]

A glimpse of the future..

It was just after midday in Stormwind, West was making his way through the canals towards the Stockades. He didn't care if he was being foolish, he was responsible. Blood was on his hands, an ocean of it, and even free of the stone he couldn't risk the darkness creeping back in.

A guard held up their hand as West approached. "State your business, citizen."

"I'm here to turn myself in."

The guard looked confused, "Um.. for?"

"I am a murderer. I've killed more people than I can even keep track of anymore. I'm the notorious Butcher of Elwynn. The Man in the Mirror. And--"

The guard had raised a hand again to cut him off. "That's impossible. He turned himself in already. What are you playing at?"

"Wait.. when was this?"

"Maybe six months or so? He died in his cell about a week before his execution. To tell you the truth, he was pretty sick when he'd turned himself in, coughing up blood."

This didn’t make sense. “Was he buried?”

The guard sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I can’t just give you that information. All I can say is if he was.. his wishes were followed. He wanted to rest with his friend. Bloke may not have deserved it, but it was a slow day, helped pass the time. Just go, make a left at the second entrance, in the back. Wood plank.”

West blinked rapidly, it was as if he’d seen exactly what the guard was saying in his mind. Another forgotten memory. The bastard thanked the guard and set off towards the cemetery, racking his brain to think of just who had taken the fall.

It was mostly empty when he arrived, there was a small funeral taking place towards the back that seemed to be wrapping up. West followed the guard’s instructions to the letter, cutting left at the second break in the low wall lining either side of the path. His eyes caught the wooden plank and he paused, next to it was a worn wood cross, crooked, weathered and stained. It was as if his legs were suddenly weighed down, he couldn’t bring himself to move them. Those pale blue eyes immediately saw the letters on that worn cross..

“No.. it can’t be..” He dragged his feet forward, reading the worn marker first.

Here lies Ayalah Flynn, Friend and Family, You will be missed.

“Ayalah..” He knelt down before the grave, both hands now covering his mouth as wide eyes slowly turned to the marker beside hers.

Matteo Kingsley

Notes were pinned to the wooden plank that marked his grave.

MURDERER! MONSTER! BASTARD! Many of the notes were faded, or torn free by the wind, a small few were brand new, likely as early as a few days.

“Why did you do it, mate.. why.. this wasn’t your burden to bear.” West sighed, his eyes were getting watery, a single tear rolled down his cheek and into his beard. “Damnit, Matty..”

He could feel something stirring within him as he knelt there staring at their markers, he couldn’t put the feeling into words. The old lute hanging from his back, West slid it around before him. It was from his youth and missing strings, but his fingers still found their way across them. A shifting of robes alerted West that someone was near, causing the bastard to look over his shoulder and spot the hooded priest feeling his way along with his walking stick.

“Who do you mourn, my child?” The priest said, settling on the low wall a few markers away from West.

“Friends..” He left it at that, his voice gave away the emotion that demanded the bastard buckled against its weight.

“I am sorry, how did they pass?”

“They..” His voice cracked, West sniffed as he adjusted the lute in his lap. “They met their end because they chose me.. they chose me when they shouldn’t have.”

“I see. So your friends saw something in you worth choosing.”

West looked back to the markers, Ayalah first, then Matteo, “People really need to stop doing that.”

“Mm. So you feel you are unworthy of such loyalty or devotion.” 

West looked at the notes still pinned to Matteo’s marker, sighing softly to himself, “I was never worthy.”

“And yet.. they chose you, my son.” The priest leaned forward, his hands clasped together over the walking stick. Their hood shifted back and West saw that the priest was blind, jagged scars crisscrossing where his eyes should have been, peeking out behind a strip of linen cloth embroidered in the same fashion of his robes. “Perhaps there’s something in that.”

The bastard frowned, “Perhaps, perhaps not. Now though, it appears my plans have changed, I’m not sure how to go from here.”

The priest chuckled. “Well.. if I were in your shoes, my son, I’d try living. If choosing you brought about their deaths, then clearly they wanted you to live.”

West stared at their graves one last time, pushing himself to his feet. “I suppose I didn’t consider that..”

“Few see what’s right before them until it’s too late. Seems to me that you’ve been given a second chance, Mister Bailey. I’d take it.” The priest’s deep chuckle seemed to echo around West who just realized what the priest had called him.

“Wait.. who--..” And he was gone, leaving West with more questions than answers.