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ofmermaidstories · 3 months

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I LOVE HEARING YOU TALK ABOUT STARDEW

If you don't mind me asking, how often do you play stardew valley? do you play at night? with a cup of tea?

please! i am dying to talk about it!!! i tend to play games in solid, obsessed blocks. so i’ve been playing every day for the last couple of weeks, now, but before that it’d been months and months since i touched it last. i’ll play whenever! whenever i have time, or throughout the day if it’s a lazy one. i like to play in stretches, and i consider it a treat to, so i’ll often have a snack ready or a drink (sometimes that cuppa you mentioned, often a juice box tho bc im like, five, lmao). i only have two saves!! my first one, delilah, where i didn’t know what i was doing and got bored of, really quickly—and my current one, my second one! it uses my real name, lmao, which tbh i’m not sure i like—it’s always jarring when the other characters say things to me. 💀 we’re currently in winter, in year five. the farm is called Sea Dreams, and it’s a beach property. i completely ignored the warnings about it not being for beginners lmfao, but i quite like it! beyond the romanticism of being on the beach of this like, inland sea cove, i like that the sand means only a fraction of the land is actually good for proper farming. i use the proper soil, the real soil, for my seasonal crops and then let patches of trees grow throughout the rest of the farm. my fruit trees are near the bat cave; in front of my house i grow small plots of flowers. and then by the shore i keep the animals. i’ve fenced them so they get trees and the pond and the sea as well; if i’m spending the day on the farm i’ll sometimes hear the plop! of the ducks, gliding onto the cove’s waters. they always look so contented. 🥹 if i’m there in the evenings, when it’s time for them to turn into the barn or the coop, i’ll stand on the shore and wait for them to drift back—they’re always last in, on those days.

i have a single fish pond, so far, towards the south of the property—it’s filled with sturgeon and from their eggs i make caviar. i make goats cheese and bread and mayonnaise and at the end of every season i harvest the flowers that grew and ride into town on my horse, grover, and hand them out. in the warm months my farm is covered in grass, everywhere! on the last day of autumn i cut it all down, for hay. my greenhouse is on a little island of it’s own, with grandpa’s shrine behind it: inside i grow more flowers, and fruit trees, and strawberries, blueberries, ancient fruit, starfruit. i hope to get a second mango sapling at some point, to grow in the greenhouse—my first one is now planted among my peach trees, waiting for it’s first summer.

fairy roses are my favourite flower. every autumn, during the stardew fair, i always include a pink one, one of my best, in my grange display for the competition. this year my setup included my best goats cheese; my best, aged wine. my best peach and my best orange! caviar, my fairy rose, a bottle of truffle oil and a jar of fairy rose honey, and then lastly, a tulip from spring, lavender-dawn in colour.

(i always win, and i always feel so smug about it. i hate pierre so much lmao, he’s such a dick.)

hmm, what else can i tell you? i’ve only just made it to the skull caverns! they stress me out so bad. 💀 recently tho (like, today, lmfao), i found my first dinosaur egg! and my first two prismatic shards—i saved the first shard in a chest in my barn, and with the other got a sword. the dinosaur egg is currently incubating! i’m so excited for it to live among my chickens and my ducks and my rabbits. 🥹

i really, really like the magic realism that’s steeped into the valley. beyond the atmosphere of the game (the freedom of leaving behind a life that was stifling you, and finding a home in the valley you’d never even dared dreamed of, before) the magic of the world is like, the number one factor in me wanting to write a AU for it. i like—things like the fairy stones. An old miner's song suggests these are made from the bones of ancient fairies. i like things like finding the burnished copper helmets of the dwarves; i like that we can wear one. i like that sometimes, in the night, there’s a rustle of wings and the next morning when you step outside there’s an owl statue, nestled somewhere on your farm like it’s been there for centuries. there’s a junimo hut in the secret, wooded area of pine trees on my farm. they’re too far from the crops to appear, but sometimes when i ride past in the dusk, just when it’s getting dark, you can hear the flicker of flames—the open doorway to their little home glowing. there’s also a secret altar to yoba, amid the trees; the dull steel of the sign of the vessel hidden away against the dark green. there’s just so much to it! i feel like you could dig deep, go deep, literally deep in the mines, and still not understand the world. and it makes me want to write that, lmao. the whole game just makes me want to write! just the world of it—waking up at six am, every morning. learning how to make something of the land before you, how to grow things, how to care for things, animals. walking into town to buy seeds. galloping into town, or down to the forest. one of my favourite touches, in the game, is how sometimes there’ll be a flock of birds on the path, pecking at something—and when you come along they all take flight, all together. and there’s a moment, every time, where you’re in the middle of it, the the beat of the wings—running or riding with them, almost. that’s what i wanna write about. the ride into town, slipping from the horse, breathless, in front of the general store or the saloon. i haven’t married anyone in my save, yet; i can’t decide on who i want to live with. so many of them are sweethearts. i like elliot a lot, recently. he wrote a romance novel for me. 🥺 but originally i wanted to date alex—i love his grandparents. on the last day of autumn i’ll take my fairy roses into town for his grandmother, and for jasmine. but saying that sebastian’s also grown on me; as has haley. sometimes i think i’ll just ask krobus, deep in his sewer, to move in with me instead—but i have an empty nursery in my house and sometimes i wonder if it’d be fun to have someone to have kids with.

(but then i swing back and forth on it—it creeps me out that the kids never age. 🥹 eternal toddlers, stumbling around the house. maybe i’ll have them just to see what it’s like, and then go to the witch’s hut to turn them into doves and let them go.)

if i wrote a stardew valley AU for my hero, i think it’d be just as hard to pick an endgame in-fic. do we pick izuku, and his rabbits? or bakugou and his explosions, up in the quarry? shouto, following us from the city, trying to leave behind the massive corporation that’s eating the world up that he’s set to inherit? idk! anyways. that’s off-topic. 🥹 do you play, anon??? what’s your favourite part? what’s your farm like???? do you like to have a cuppa in hand, when you settle in to play?

#ofmermaidstories-asks #the stardew tag

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sebsxphia · 2 years

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Oops back with more of my Rhett w/ single mom!reader bullshit

Your toddler wants to get you flowers, so Rhett helps her pick some out of the yard. Sure, he's supposed to be fixing your fence, but that can wait. You're doing laundry or something and turn around to see Rhett holding her with one arm, using his other hand to help her "hold" the little makeshift bouquet.

He's absolutely adorable encouraging your little one "Say 'this for you Mama!'" and reminding her "give them to Mama!". He has the sweetest smile on his face, watching you get happy and flustered.

And how could he not remind your little one to "give Mama a kiss!" And holds them up to your face so they can try to kiss your cheek. It makes your heart melt for him.

So when he puts down your little kid so they can go play, you can't help but stand on the tips of your toes and kiss him on the cheek. That man would turn bright red and start mumbling about how "you didn't have to do that." "But I wanted to Rhett." And that's all you say before walking away.

He would run after you.

MY HEART IM MELTING GOD DO I LOVE SINGLE MOM AND RHETT <333

telling your little one what to do while he holds her in his arms??? oml.

rhett is basically part of the family at this point. he’s always there and helping you out or looking after your little one when it’s needed, but he still gets flustered and goes bright red when you show him any sort of affection or how grateful you are.

in his eyes, he’s just being polite and hopes he’s being helpful because he likes you so damn much, but when you validate those feelings and encourage him to express them? he’s putty in your hands and following you around like a love sick puppy dog.

thank you so much for this wonderful addition as always my love!! 💌💖

#💌you’ve got mail #withahappyrefrain #rhett abbott #💐 these are for you!!

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coffee-or-murder · 2 years

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Olly: Rambling With Bees

Drabble that turned into nearly four pages of Olly ranting about a guy he has a crush on at his bees. He spends most of it either talking about how pretty the guy is, how he shouldn’t make a move because he’s divorced and recovering from all that, OR just mad at himself for not noticing how bad his crush had gotten. He’s a fool and would not let me work on literally any other WIPs until I finished this one. Idea brought about because of some silly fun sandbox play :D

All those years of monk therapy bullshit did kinda pay off. Sorta. At least enough so Olly can notice when he needs to decompress before he seriously spirals out again. He’d let his staff at the bakery know he’d be at home today, and they could handle themselves alone for twenty-four hours without setting a fire. Hopefully. Probably. Fuck it they’ll be fine Lemon’s shift lead.

After a frankly shit night of sleep, full from a big breakfast and a little stoned, the tiefling was finally steady enough to try to get his shit together. Olly steps out into his back garden, does a quick glance around the perimeter, and takes a deep breath. It’s just early enough that the spring morning still feels a little crisp, the delicate scent of bee balm and lavender from the tidy garden beds drift over on a light breeze, and the sun is already high enough to beam down in shafts through the oaks dotted around the yard. All in all, not the worst morning to have a heart to heart with yourself. Could be worse. Could be raining. Olly fiddles with the little carved wooden ring around his middle finger, flicking the spinning inside ring once and watching as it flashes bright yellow. The glow brightens for a breath before sinking into the tiny carved animal faces on the ring and puts them in stark relief against the dark brown wood, the little bee glowing the brightest of them all. Handy dandy animal friendship spell in place, he heads over to the back of the yard, plucking a handful of blooms as he goes before flopping inelegantly in front of the largest of the hives in the center of the neat little trio of bee houses along the back fence. He sighs loudly, letting all the air push out of his lungs and folding his flower-filled hands on his stomach to settle in for a long stupid emotional talk.

“I wanna try askin him out. Fuckin gods above do I wanna try, but I shouldn’t. Don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable cause I decide ta try flirtin with him like some shit fer brains asshole who can’t take a hint and just be his friend,” he grumbles as he huffs loudly to himself. A small swarm of bees file out of the hive and start buzzing around him, a couple landing on the flowers on his chest and getting to work doing their bee thing. Olly smiles softly at the sight before the image of the previous night pops back into his head and he scowls. He can easily recall how his fingers had wound through long brown hair and braided it away from that stupidly pretty man’s face. All because Olly just couldn’t resist trying to take care of him after the man had backed Olly up in some dumbass bar fight. “I was pushin my fuckin luck tyin his hair back fer him and I knew it. He was kinda tipsy after all, and yeah we’d just wrapped up a bit of a scuffle at the bar so maybe he wasn’t all that tipsy after that, but he…he uh…after I fixed his hair fer ‘em he-shit-well he…he kissed my cheek and had me walk ‘im back ta his room. I bolted before he’d even closed the door all the way. Just wanted it ta be an actual date so bad so I could kiss his stupid fuckin hand goodnight or somethin and didn’t trust it not ta show of my fuckin dumbass glass head,” Olly growled low, his chest rumbling with the sound. There was an answering buzz from the hives around him and he sighed, sinking further into the thick clover below as he focused on breathing again. Another bee landed on his hand. He stopped growling.

“Yeah if he didn’t wanna give us a go he wouldn’t be a prick about it. Put on the fuckin five-o boss man voice and all, walk me through all the feelings cause he’s good like that, put me down real gentle. Yeah sure. He’d do that. Stay friends after the pity period too. Wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” he says, wincing as he imagines how that talk would go. Might have to bite the bolt and just let that happen anyway. Get it all out in the open. Shit he didn’t wanna have to sit through that. More bees came out of the hives, slowly beginning to dart in the air above him, little yellow and black bodies humming all together. Some broke off to go into the flower beds and others stayed to investigate their prone keeper and the handful of flowers on his chest.

“I’d feel like a dickhead tryin ta take him out if he wasn’t done processing his divorce. Not like I’m just tryin ta be his friend ta get into his pants or nothing, cause I fuckin ain’t he’s just a good person and I like hangin out with him. Fuck I don’t want him to think that’s the only reason I wanted ta be friends. We were friends before I found out about the divorce yeah but…I didn’t bring him soup or nothin before I knew about it. Fuck even worse what if he figured out he really only thought I was hot enough for a lay? He already told me he didn’t wanna rebound date, that his feelings were all mixed up and he didn’t wanna hurt me or nothin so we should start as friends. I get that. Super. I don’t wanna be a rebound. I like being his friend. I do. Fuck he’s so worth takin a risk though. We could have a seriously good thing brewin,” Olly said softly, recalling the way the man looked when he’d kissed his knuckles on impulse. He’d flushed red, shit he was cute when he got flustered, but still the man was so headstrong and funny. Hells even when he was recovering from his work injury and Olly’d practically broken into his flat he’d starting trying to tidy up. Who does that? If Olly knew more maybe he could've helped with that too, like where he liked to keep his mugs, how he organized his books, how he liked his clothes folded away, what hangs up what doesn’t. Do they do anything fancy with his uniform? He’d always looked put together the handful of times he’d dropped off a surprise lunch basket at the precinct. Would it help if Olly ironed it the night before? It hit him all at once then and he gasped, clutching his hands around the flowers and growling low, tail lashing on the ground as he sucked in another breath to try to keep himself from whining like an injured beast.

“Fuckin shit I’d move across the fuckin mountains fer this guy! When the fuck did that happen?! When the fuck did I start thinking about this dumb fuckin crush like that? I ain’t even told him about being a fuckin bait dog! Shit on a stick and fuck me sideways I gotta pull back. Hells below he gets so soft sometimes though. Wanna make him feel safe enough to do that and know I won’t be a judgy asshole. Bring him flowers and lunch and help him unpack around his place and cook stupid little date night dinners with him and try ta get him ta dance with me after doing dishes and watch the little cousins together cause once they warm up a bit he’s fuckin good with them and he’s fun ta be around and-fuckin shit I am so lost on this guy how did I not notice!?” Olly rambled, getting louder and more angry at himself as he went, growl rumbling back to full force by the end. He took a deep breath, dropping the flowers onto his chest so he could press the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see swirling colors behind the closed lids. Olly let out a long string of nonsense infernal before sighing again, slowly moving his arms back down onto his chest to avoid hurting any of the bees still darting around him. The swarm had gotten the air around him buzzing, but already bits of them were slowly filtering back into their hives now that the flowers he’d brought over had been worked over. That’s his cue. Gotta bite the bolt. Now or never.

“I gotta get over this. Dammit I am not gonna fuck up a good thing cause’a my dumbass feelings,” he growled loudly, huffing again and rubbing his cheeks hard to try to pull himself back together. “I’m takin the day off, baking myself silly, and gettin back ta work tomorrow. No random drop in visits for at least a week. Maybe two. I gotta back off. Distract myself or somethin. Hells might be time I do another fuck me show. Always manage ta pull at least one date outta that. Fuck it if it doesn’t work at least I’m tryin somethin.”

#dnd story #dnd olly #olly dnd #love this brat to death but wow is he feeling Dramatic lol #he talks to his bees a lot because that's the way he feels closest to his dead mother u_u

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figbian · 2 years

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thanks @sharpbutsoft for the tag <33

rules: recommend three of your own fics (1 most popular, two hidden gems) then tag some people!

tagging: @mercymorns @warmsafflinas @cathedralbells @stillmadaboutpetra + whoever else wants to (just say i tagged you!)

most popular:

please could you be tender (she-ra; catra/adora childhood friends au; 40k words)

summary: “I mean,” explains Adora, “We were friends for so long, and all that. Don’t you–” she swallows, “–don’t you miss me, too?”

“You can’t miss someone sitting right across from you,” responds Catra. Adora can’t help but disagree. She looks at Catra expectantly, and after a pause, Catra lets out a long breath.

“Fine, fine,” she says. “You’ve always been my favorite ghost, skeleton in the closet, whatever.” Adora frowns over at her. Catra shrugs, evidently unwilling to say anything else. Catra gives her another look that punctuates this, a look that says stop asking for more and Adora, folding her hands neatly, does as she's told. this remains my biggest fic! i had a really good time writing it and it was one of the bigger she-ra fics, which always makes me feel special lmao. i'll always look back on writing this fondly; in terms of confessional fics, man this one has a lot in it. but that's how it goes!

hidden gem 1:

haunted house with a picket fence (stranger things; steve/eddie time travel au, 30k wip)

summary: Sometimes Steve gets these crazy dreams. He wakes up from them shivering, hand reaching for something under his bed that doesn’t exist. The plots of them mostly fade after a minute, so he’s left with unsettling images that haunt him whenever he closes his eyes: vines, pulsing like a muscle; caustic spores stuck in the back of his throat; a creature’s mouth unfolding like a toothy flower. * or, it's 1983, & steve keeps remembering things that haven't happened.

i'm having a LOT of fun with this fic, and in a lot of ways i'm playing with what i learned in a different fic (buried a hatchet) with the sort of weird alternate reality emptiness aspect. it's not perfect, but there's a lot im really happy with right now, and it's a return to fic after 2 years, so that's special, too.

hidden gem 2:

advanced home video & alternate love letters (community; abed/troy; 2k)

summary: Abed, throughout his last two years at Greendale, makes a home movie. It’s buried deep within his files, so that no one finds it; it’s important to him, for some reason, to keep it private. He opens it up, sometimes, in part as a homage just for himself—he sits in the dark and lets it play and pretends it’s just a movie reference. * or, abed makes a missing lover movie for troy. (alternatively, abed & the fallout of troy leaving).

this is one of those fics where it feels incredibly confessional to me, looking back on it, even though it's ostensibly a character study of how abed deals with troy's absence in video format. i reread it a lot, to be honest; in some ways it's to reflect on my july of 2020, writing about videos of people you can't see anymore. i really remember the challenge of writing scene changes (how often can you write "it cuts to xyz" before it gets too repetitive?!)

#my writing #i always blank on who to tag!!!!!#rambles

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6hostful · 8 months

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do all the 20s for the meme :)

BLESS YOU FOR THIS im SO EXCITED OKAY SO

20 . do they have a “comfort outfit” or a go to look? if so, why did they choose those pieces?

Teagan is absolutely a big t-shirt/hoodie and leggings kinda girl when she isn’t feeling like dressing up, maybe with a pair of flashy boots to at least feel like she put a little bit of effort into her look but. Mostly a pair of tennis shoes or even a pair of slippers, she isn’t above that LMAO her every day look is casual but with lots of black &/or muted tones. Tank top, zip up hoodie, ripped up jeans. Studded belt is a must.

first one is her lazy comfort outfit, second is an every day sorta thing

21. in a relationship, are they the ones stealing their partners’ clothing? or are they the ones having their clothes stolen?

It really depends on the relationship; if she is with a masc person usually she is the one to do the stealing, but if she is with a femme person she is usually offering her jackets and oversized stuff constantly. Nothing is better than oversized partner clothing 😭

22. do they have bumper stickers on their car? if so, what kind? (bonus points for pictures!)

She has all kinda of band stickers, from her own band to other bands she has toured with to some of her favorites that she has seen in concert. Aside from that she def has some pride stickers and at least one amoeba music sticker and some other weird ones that she either got online or as gifts from friends like:

23. do they have a comfort movie? book? tv show?

She really really loves the x files, and even though she thinks its utter trash from the jump she also loves supernatural. Pretty much any shitty teen romance/drama/thriller with supernatural / post apocalyptic themes are in heavy rotation (think twilight or hunger games) and shes too much of a book nerd to pick just one, really LMAO

24. if forced to wear socks, what kind do they prefer? ( ankle? crew cut? patterned? plain? )

She is a black ankle/low cut sock kinda girly, usually no pattern. If not that then she might be wearing stripes but thats VERY uncommon. Shes usually wearing boots so its not like you can really see them anyway!!!

25. what do they do when they are deep in thought? ( bite their nails? twirl a strand of hair? lick their lips? just look off to the side? nothing too exciting because this is a highly specific question? lol )

Shes a lip biter for sure, I've actually considered giving her a lip piercing to chew on when she’s thinking but i am still on the fence about that. Other than lip biting she wrings her hands a lot and plays with her acrylics

26. what is their favorite snack food?

Flaming. Hot. cheetos. pair that with a liquid death and she is SET.

27. what do their hair care products smell like?

For the most part its vanilla and warm sugar, maybe a toasted marshmallow perfume thrown on top or maybe some sort of chai smelling perfume? Really rich and sweet; the kinda stuff that makes you think of fall and winter.

28. how dedicated are they to their favorite color? must everything they own be that color? do they even care that much?

Her favorite color is blue, and she really likes it but shes not terribly dedicated to it. Shes a thrifter and an opportunist when it comes to clothes and accessories, so she will make do with whatever. Things like pens, toothbrushes, hair brushes / etc that you can get at a store that might come in a few different colors though…. She is more inclined to reach for the blue ones than something else.

29. what does their perfume smell like, and how much do they put on?

I already kinda answered this one above but she wears lots of warm and sweet smells, and she wears quite a lot of it too. She absolutely has a small bottle that she carries around with her to refresh after smoking a cigarette or eating or something. Depending on the season her smell might slightly change, like in spring it might be more vanilla and flowers, summer would be more warm sugar and coconut, fall vanilla and maybe something pumpkin spice adjacent, and winter would be some really vanilla chai/ spicy smelling one.

#rehavoced #▌👻 ❝ 【 6𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 】 ― hc .#my god this was SO FUN

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doodlesolar · 2 years

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story time

in my last post i posted a shitpost doodle of sans undertale being questioned by frisk about why hes wearing a visor in 102 degree weather. i said the cactus next to frisk is inspired by an "event". here is the event

so basically i live in a trailer park except it actually converted itself into a mobile home park a year or two back so rn im in one of those. back when it was a trailer park tho i buried a friendship bracelet in the corner of our lot (i was young) cause it was a flower bracelet made from weaving the flowers together. a girl gave it to me that i knew and liked (she didnt like me back tho but she was still cool & we were friends)

so obviously i move out of the trailer and into the mobile home, but u see this was like 5 or 6 years ago and my brain was less developed.

so then new people moved their trailer in (the parks whole shift hadnt quite happened yet) and they planted a cactus right over the spot i planted my friendship bracelet. i wsa very bitter over having to leave the trailer and that lot because there were way less plants in the new lot, so obviously emotions were very high and i uhhh

i found the cactus when they moved out again, and i punted it over the fence and into the plumbing place next door.

so the cactus next to frisk in that picture was the same cactus that i kicked like a mf football lmao

and i didnt even get in trouble cause wtf were the neighbors gonna say? "a 12 year old kicked a cactus over the fence :-(" like who cares lmao. not the cactus i bet. prolly shouldnt have done it but if i was a witness to a scene like that, out of context? i would laugh my ass off

ill post another story time soon. doodle of me kicking the cactus below

#story time #doodle

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delphispoeticals · 2 years

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EN GARDE

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: regency courting etiquette, gender roles/sexism, use of ‘lady’ and ‘she/her’ and ‘woman’, flirting, benny being absolutely in love with you, improper smooching, few innuendos, a smidge of heavy petting.

word count: 5.6k

blurb: where you care too much about what your mother thinks, much to your siblings dismay, it almost guides all of your decisions. but when you rely on what you want... you find it to be rather rewarding — starting with a simple game of fencing. En Garde.

a/n: i’ve written so many drafts, but i think im really gonna post this one lol. i haven’t written goodies about men in a WHILE so forgive me if it’s bad you guys :((

“Mama is going to have more than a word with you when she finds out about this, Antoine.”

“Wouldn’t you rather participate in an activity you’re actually good at, than just… Promenading around the yard?” He scoffed, using an overdone posh accent.

The mama you shared was very particular when it came to the season of your debut. You happened to be the first daughter of the Sinclair Household, out of two, to debut into society. Which meant, all eyes were on you – technically. Coming from a well-renowned family, many people held many expectations for you. And, the Ton couldn’t wait to deliberate about someone who slightly strayed from tradition and normalcy. That could easily dampen the reputation your family built through years of networking.

It should also be mentioned that your father is the ultimate source for how the Ton perceives you – he’s a Marquess, anointed by the Queen. So, maybe it wasn’t only high society you had to look out for.

It was the lovely lady who governed, her grace.

Which makes this rendezvous, with your favorite suitor, all the more complicated. Antoine was very adamant about ensuring your happiness. As your brother, that was his job – so he claims. Antoine, is a very generous elder brother – honestly, better than most. Better than his own friends who happened to share the title. The season had only begun a month ago, but he’d noticed that you hadn’t caught the eyes of anyone in particular. Your family was high enough in society to at least attempt a love match – he knew you deserved that much.

So, he examined the pool of eligible men around him. Choosing to ignore their overbearing sexual history, since he himself was questionable in that department. His character was separate from his reputation with women – which wasn’t that thick of a book, by the way. Antoine was a good man who just so happened to love the company of beautiful women. He was simply a product of what society enabled – and there were more like him.

He didn’t want to be biased, so he began with Mr. Lumley. He was an attractive young man whose record was clear. Mr. Lumley had already called for you, offering you flowers and such. But, you weren’t completely sold. You accompanied him to a ball hosted by the Abernathy’s, but no flutters were felt. And, you were determined to feel those flutters.

Next, he jumped to his closest friends – the Bridgerton’s. Whom of which you met on plenty of occasions. Antoine didn’t care to consider the Viscount, being that he was familiar with how he desired his future. His first consideration was Colin. He was kind and harbored that love for adventure that you did. However, he notice a subtle glance he gave to Penelope Featherington and decided not to tread on that territory. Finally, the artist of the family, Benedict. Antoine had noticed the two of you got on nicely – more than nicely. That’s when he began to plant his seeds of love – he calls it.

When your brother found a trashed sketch of your face… He knew his meddling worked.

Antoine is more than positive he’d helped you find your match. So it didn’t matter what your mama thought, or even the Ton. He was a genius.

In a little over forty-eight hours, Lady Bridgerton is planning to host a ball at Aubrey Hall. You were invited as a noble guest, being that you were being courted by her second eldest. And, there you were standing walking down the backyard steps of the manor with your brother – complaining. He had proposed a date to your potential lover. A date that isn’t very ladylike of you to participate in – even if you were fantastic at the art of it. Your mother had come a day later than the two of you, and she’ll be in Kent sometime this day. If she saw you…

“This isn’t an activity for a future wife, Antoine.” You may have been quoting your mother, but her words often rang true. And, even if it wasn’t it’s not like you had the reigns, as a woman, to tempt fate. Spinster age was around the corner.

Fencing. What a lovely sport. If only you could proudly proclaim your love for it.

You were wearing the same beige frock you wore when playing with your siblings. It had long billowing sleeves, but the bodice was still firm to your bust. Stylishly laced at its edges. “Since when did you care what future wives did?” He grumbled, dressed in his white fencing attire, holding both of your swords. “You knew Benedict before your debut-”

“And he wasn’t interested until my debut!”

“That changes nothing, y/n. If he didn’t like you we wouldn’t be here now. And, we most certainly wouldn’t be walking across a field to go fencing behind bush-lining.”

A nervous sigh fell from your lips, as you waddled across the grass. The pair of you were meeting Benedict and his brothers a little ways from the back of Aubrey Hall. “The one thing you can trust is my word, sister. I would never steer you wrong.” He patted your shoulder, sliding his arm along them to pull you closer.

The sun was blinding your eyes as you approached the shaded area, fortunately, shaded. One of your arms slides around the middle of his back, leaning on him to gather your strength. You’ve never been the type to be insecure – maybe this season was messing with you. Not once have you ever been hesitant to show off your skills. The stress of being a debutante, even while officially courting, was changing you. Was this the path to becoming a woman – watering down your passions, or feeling bad if you didn’t?

Smile.

“Lord and Lady Sinclair,” Anthony spoke, bowing his head shallowly, while the pair of you approached. The two other brothers do the same.

“Anthony,” Antoine boyishly grinned.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” You disconnected from your brother to dip coyly. “Mr. Bridgerton… Mr. Bridgerton.” Your eyes flickered from Colin to Benedict – the artist that held your heart between his hands. Antoine joked about with the boys, patting their shoulders playfully.

Benedict leaned down to speak lowly near your ear. “How come you didn’t tell me you knew the art of fencing?” He raised an eyebrow. The sensation of his warm breath on the side of your neck and the shell of your earlobe. A dry giggle left your lips, looking up at the tallest brother. In truth, it was because of your mother’s nagging voice in your head. But, you couldn’t share that. Of course, not.

“It simply never came up – slipped my mind, forgive me.”

“No need to ask for forgiveness…” Benedict leaned closer to your ear once more. “I already knew. You can thank your brother for that.”

In response, exhaled forcefully, glaring at the back of Antoine’s head. Thanks a lot, now I look like a liar. Rolled your eyes, stalking towards him with a bit more ferocity than you walked in with. Anthony nodded his head in your direction, causing him to turn around with an absent mind – looking directly above your head. “Antoine!” You sharply called. He immediately looked down, meeting your height. “Are we fencing or not – we do not have all day.” You pull the fencing sword from his hand, turning on your heels.

“Ah, my bad, sister. We shall begin… Benedict.” Antoine looked at the man standing back behind you, a smirk curling on his lips. He prepared to step forth, but you held your hand out. Your palm hovering over his chest.

“No, not yet. Antoine…” You pointed with your dulled sword. “You first.” Benedict’s eyes never leave your frame, watching as you command his attention. He takes a few steps back, wandering to sit on the bench along with the other Bridgertons.

Antoine inhales, hanging his head briefly with a mischievous smirk. “Ah… There’s the y/n I like to see.”

“En Garde, brother.”

You place your non-dominant hand on your hip, using the other towards your opponent. Your eyes were carefully trained on Antoine, squinting intimidatingly, positioning your feet. He readies, doing just the same. Your brother and you had been in this position plenty of times, and often they ended with him laying in the grass. Rarely ever you. “Antoine, remember, this is your sister – she is a lady. Take it easy on her.” Anthony teasingly called, glancing over towards you.

A scoff fell from your lips as you lunged toward your brother, colliding his sword with yours. “Save the insults for when you’re on the end of my sword, Lord Bridgerton.” Antoine lunged toward you, but you jumped back avoiding the contact of the dull sword. You hummed, cockily swinging your weapon. The sound of the swords clashing filled the space, with little grunts from the both of you. Antoine managed to get two taps against your waist, and you managed to get one on his. However, as per, he ended up kissing the grass.

You laughed in victory, bowing to the small audience. “Who’s next?”

Minutes flew by as you tackled both Anthony and Colin Bridgerton – successfully knocking them to the ground. You actually had to go against the eldest brother thrice before he completely gave up. Which only earned giggles from Benedict as he lounged on the bench.

“Do not laugh yet, brother. Laugh when you prevail that storm of a woman – Lady y/n, I mean. My apologies.”

“Your mistake was purposeful, Lord Bridgerton.”

You responded, as your eyes followed Benedict as he positioned in front of you – sword in hand. A competitive twinkle glimmered in his blue eyes as he straightened his posture. “I do apologize for my brother’s — they’re not known for challenging their opponents.”

“Lies! Lies, you tell!” Colin exclaimed, pointing at the artist.

With a chuckle, you circled that vertically gifted man. “And… You are?” You raised a single eyebrow, hitting his sword with your own. The trace of a smile being left on your lips, batting your eyelashes at him. “A gentleman shall never go back on his word. Are you going to challenge me, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Only if you wish, my love.”

A beat.

Your eyes widened, lips parting in awe. But, easily your eyebrows deepened in determination. He was playing dirty. Using his sparkling eyes and boyish smirk to dismantle your throne. “Charm — a devilish trick. Don’t let his advances disturb you, y/n.” Antoine supported, leaning on his knees intently.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Benedict lunged, but you dodged. Your eyes were glued to his eyes. Honestly, if your families weren’t near — you’d probably toss the dull weapons to the side and pounce on the man. Benedict didn’t have to speak to charm you. A simple glance was all you needed. “Ouch.” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning pain. “I would hope that my charm disturbs you a little.”

You raise your eyebrows, tapping your swords again. “Disturbs me or flatters me?”

“Perhaps, both.” He pauses, as you lunge toward him. Barely grazing his arm with the thin blade. You curse under your breath, biting the inside of your mouth. “To leave you utterly enamored is, in fact, a goal of mine.”

Hm. You hum, smiling with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. Technically, he’s met that goal on many occasions — he just couldn’t know that for sure. “Is it, now? How’s that working out for you?” He lunges towards you, the sounds of your swords clashing multiple times. Your non-dominant hand gripped the skirts of your dress as you backed up into the treeline.

Benedict shrugs, backing up and gathering his breath. “Fairly well, I believe.”

“You think?”

“I know-“

His voice was cut off by the pinched tone of a stressed mama. You immediately freeze, pivoting and holding the sword behind your back. There she was stomping across the grass, with your younger sister following behind, begrudgingly. “Mama,” You fought a frown with a smile. Benedict had slowly walked behind you, taking the sword from your hands. Thankfully, you sent him a smile.

“Mama, you’ve arrived in Kent! Welcome.” Antoine tried, standing from the bench.

“Marchioness Sinclair, it is truly a pleasure,” Anthony spoke, elbowing his brother to speak. “Truly.” Colin co-signed, bowing his head.

Your mother was fuming, smoke was practically coming from her ears. “What is the meaning of this nonsense, y/n?” She questioned, deliberately. You adjusted how you stood, looking back at Antoine. He shrugs, trying to think of something on his feet that could save the both of you.

Then, he stepped forward — Benedict, not your brother. “I asked her to join my brothers and I for a round…” He glanced down at you. “Or two. I heard she was quite a force to be reckoned with when it came to fencing, and I was only curious.” His eyes gleamed whenever they were set on you, examining your uncomfortable stature.

She eased, sighing. Her scrutinizing eyes softened at the words of the young man. Even so, her presence spoke loudly for her. She was a Marchioness. “Is this true, y/n?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” You may have answered too quickly. “Mr. Bridgerton graciously thought to include me, based on mere hearsay… Very polite of him.” You nodded, sharing a tight-lipped smile with your mother. She crossed her arms over her satin bodice, squinting her eyes — glancing from you to Antoine.

“Hm. Very well.” A beat.

Her eyes landed on each party, suspiciously.

“I’ll be waiting to hear of your victories, y/n.” She turned around, gliding back towards the manor. Your sister hesitantly turns with her. She sent vibrant thumbs up, and a theatrical wink in her wake before then. Once she’d gotten to a legitimate distance, you groaned, stuffing your face in your hands.

Antoine shut his eyes tightly, pinching his nose. “Mama has perfect timing. Absolutely perfect.” You nodded, running your hands down your face.

“Absolutely perfect.” You mutter, allowing your arms to slap by your sides. Hesitantly, you turned towards Benedict, offering an energyless smile. “Thank you for stepping in…”

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back gallantly. “Oh, I would do it a thousand more times if needed. Of course, Lady y/n.” His eyes glanced around the area seeing the damper her mother’s arrival placed on the group. Anthony scratched the back of his head, whispering to Colin. “Why don’t we resume our game later? I can see that your mama’s interruption has compromised the mood.”

You chuckled, pushing a piece of your curls behind your ear. “Didn’t she… Yes, we may resume at a much later time. I might’ve worked up a bit of an appetite, to be honest.”

“Appetite, you say? I’m beyond famished!” Colin began stalking past everyone, heading towards the house. You suppressed a laugh, holding your fingers over your lips. Anthony and Antoine followed after him, nearly forgetting about both you and the artist.

Benedict offered his arm, sharing a charming smile. “How does cucumber sandwiches with classic English tea sound?”

“Splendid, of course!” You marveled, sliding your arm through his. Adoringly holding his gaze, as you approached the large manor behind the boys.

…

Julianne, your sister, sat in the room you shared flipping through the pages of the books Eloise lent her. “Ugh, can’t I have a love like Mr. Bingley and Jane…” She pouted, wiping fake tears from her cheeks. You snickered, taking the remaining pins from your hair, and placing them in the bowl on the vanity.

Turning in the plushy seat, you leaned on the back of the chair. A wistful expression adorning your face. Julianne shuts the book as she couldn’t help but feel the emotions leaking from your pores. “What happens to be on your mind, sister?” She adjusts herself on the bed, where she turns her feet to where the pillows are.

You shake your head, pursing your lips. “I’m not sure…”

“Ah, well, that’s believable.” She remarks, kicking her feet back and forth. “You’re not sure what’s on your mind.”

Abruptly, you stand from the chair, walking to the long window that serves a view of the grand backyard of the manor. “I am realizing, I think, that I am past merely liking Mr. Bridgerton.” You paused, blinking as you were slowly coming to terms with your unruly emotions. Sure, you’ve said before that he held your heart — but, he may really be holding your heart. Delicately, to add. He was a very gentle man. “I may be in love with him, Julianne.”

She gasped, holding her hands intertwined under her chin. “He’s your Mr. Bingley!” Julianne cheered, swinging her legs off the bed.

“Not literally. But, yes — if that makes me the prettiest Bennett sister, Jane.”

“You…” She narrows her eyes, before slightly glancing out the window. Then, her eyes widened tremendously, pointing quickly at the figure wandering in the dark. You were still looking at her harboring a teasing grin, but her attention elsewhere caught your eye. “Oh, Blast! Is that Mr. Bridgerton just there?”

He held a candle as light, but he slowly wandered the field and garden. Palming some of the bush fixtures. You gasp, pushing her to the side of the window, while you stumble to the other side — where you’re out of sight. “You must meet him down there.”

“I mustn’t! If mama catches me-“

“y/n, you are about to be a married woman — who cares what mama thinks, good God.”

You inhale, furrowing your eyebrows. The opinion of your mother has grown since your debut. Feeling as if you had to succumb to this unattainable role. Your sibling had more faith in your betrothal than you did — which was odd considering your situation. You pondered — should you really go down there? What were you going to say? “I will keep watch for you.” Julianne offered, with a spreading smile. “Just don’t do anything too scandalous.”

Smiling, you grabbed the thin blue robe that went over your white nightgown. “No promises,”

That was a jest. Total jest.

Grabbing a candlelight, you scurried down to the back. Managing to be as quiet as a mouse on your mild journey through the manors. Your eyes caught the sight of the back of his disheveled hair, slowly maneuvering around. Hesitantly, you stepped onto the low vibrant grass. Glancing over your shoulder for any prying eyes — praying your mother didn’t catch you in this position. You wanted to be married organically, when he asks your father for your hand.

When you’d gotten closer enough to him, you called his name. “Mr. Bridgerton,” You stated, holding out the candlelight. “It’s quite late, is it not?”

He slowly turned around, as if he was expecting you. A smile grew on his lips. “It is quite late… I just desired fresh air — nightly fresh air.”

“Ah, yes. Nightly fresh air — the best form of air on the market.”

He was wearing loose-fitting clothes, just as you were since it was after hours. His eyes donned your frame, examining the length of your hair and how different it was compared to your daily looks. The effortlessness of your beauty rendered him shocked — enamored. Perhaps, even disturbed. “Turn down your light.” He spoke.

Your eyebrows deepened, confused by his words. “Huh? It’s dark, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Would you want to risk your mama seeing you and me unchaperoned… At night?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered his words. That was the last thing you wanted. “Perhaps, not.” You took in a hefty breath, blowing out the candle with an innocent expression. Benedict chuckled, doing the same, then holding out his hand for you. The sound of your heart thumped in your ears, almost making you dizzy. And with a courageous inhale, you placed your hand in his.

He could take you anywhere and you wouldn’t dare complain. But, you couldn’t help but question.

A toothy smile graced your lips, his hand gripping yours bare. For the first time without some sort of glove. “Where are you taking me?” His long legs were no match for yours. Long strides quickly pulling you to wherever the destination may have been.

He looked over his shoulder. “Do we not have a round to finish?” Your lips gaped open, your other hand reaching toward his arm. Halting your steps, you pulled him to a stop. The grin on your lips was impossible to wipe off.

Breathily, you inhaled. “Did you plan this, Mr. Bridgerton?” The candlelight was being held by your pinky, aching from the weight. But, the contact of your hand against his firm arm was so comforting. He was so comforting.

“I did not, My Lady. However, I did wish to see you tonight.”

His wishes came true.

“And, I also wished for you not to be so formal with me. Please, call me Benedict.” His much larger hand, squeezed yours, pulling you closer to his tall frame. Your pointer finger tapped along his bicep, batting the long eyelashes your mother gave you — sincerely.

You grinned, with your bottom lip stuck under your teeth. Trying to resist the size, but it was impossible. His light eyes glistened with something that was unfamiliar to you, but you failed to fully catch it. All you noticed was that his gaze gave you a bodily reaction. Your chest and cheeks grew hot, where his hand met yours, a sensation tingling from the contact. “Only if you call me y/n and nothing else.”

Benedict chuckled, as your chests touched, looking down into your mind-controlling gaze. “And nothing else? So… My love happens to be off the table?” He raises his eyebrow, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“If it isn’t true. But if it is — call me that however many times you please.” Your eyes glanced toward his lips, but you stepped back, glancing in the direction he was taking you. “I believe you were taking me somewhere…”

His lips parted, but he quickly recovered. Nodding, and following through with his original plan — which was warping as time progressed. The pair of you had been attracted to each other since the moment you met. More so, Benedict than you. He just assumed that it would never happen, considering his closest friend was your brother. He didn’t expect Antoine to be so helpful to both of you.

But, now, his attraction to you has skyrocketed. From being around you so much, studying your face, spending long nights thinking about your face… And body. Benedict is nearly spent. While he wasn’t trying to rush, he genuinely wanted you. All he needed was a few minutes alone—

“Did you really set all this up… All for hopes?” You inquired, seeing all the swords poked into a holder and gloves for the sport set beside them.

“All for hopes… All for you. I mean a game is not finished until-“

“It is finished.” You mused, releasing his hand and approaching the weapons. With a giggle, you pulled the glove that was for your dominant hand on. Plucking the dull sword from the holder. “You are a thoughtful sort. I’ll say, you may have met your goal, Benedict.” You walked backward, watching as he gathered his gear. “Consider me utterly enamored.”

You were fluttering. It was the flutter.

He pulled his glove on, taking his sword and taking a few steps back. “As am I, my love. I only hope that doesn’t damper the competition.”

Benedict truly had you swooned. If you were willing to give in completely, the competition would be over. Or, at least you would've wanted it to have been over. You did have, unfortunately, one more man to defeat. “And risk my ultimate victory? Never!” You pointed your sword towards the man, smirking excitedly. Chest rising with anticipation. “En Garde, kind sir.”

He tapped your sword with his twice, before lunging. The game between the pair of you had gone on longer than it had with the others. Sparing longing glances, causing either one of you to stumble. The both of you attempted to dismantle one another with flirtation, but you deemed yourself to be much stronger than expected — the both of you. It surely was torture, though.

Then, all of a sudden, Benedict threw his sword to the ground. His chest heaving up and down — eyes stuck to you, unable to look away for even a second. You dropped your arm, letting it hit your hip still clenching your sword. The competitive sneer dropped from your lips, a look of expectation adorning your face. It seems he has reached his peak of keeping his distance from you.

“You’re an insufferable opponent…” He muttered, but it was already so quiet. Something in particular leaking from his words. You were so stunned that you could only stand there — in utter shock.

A breath flew from your lips. “Why’d you stop? You might’ve stolen my victory.”

“I wouldn’t ever want to steal your victory.” He approached you, resorting you to backing up. Choosing your steps carefully. Your hand rose, the corner of your lips curling weakly. He stopped advancing, holding his hands near his head. “Go on… Take me, y/n.”

Something in your gut told you his words had meant something else. His body language told you his words meant something else. Uncharted territory for you. The tip of your sword prodded at his abdomen. “I win.” You whisper, fluttering in places that have yet to be explored. He pushed the blade away with two fingers, resuming his approach. Remaining in your place, your arm drops, still holding the sword in your hand.

He had entered your space, his hand drifting down your clothed arm. Leading to the gloved hand that held the dull weapon. Your breath hitching in your throat. Benedict pulled the handle from your fingers, keeping his striking gaze on you. He tossed it to the side carelessly, then pulled the leather glove from your hand. “You win.” He whispered, aligning your hand with his.

This touch was different — more intimate than you ever experienced. It set your skin ablaze, it made you… It made you really want him. This feeling of want was different, nothing you’ve ever felt before. His other hand found solace at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You had no choice but to oblige, stumbling forward. “I must apologize,” He began, darting his eyes in an upside-down triangle. “y/n, I simply cannot contain myself anymore.”

Neither can I.

“You have convicted my soul. You have since the moment I laid eyes on you — that evening, only a year ago, where your brother introduced us.” Benedict enunciated, his thumb caressing your ribcage through your thin nightgown. You gasp, gripping the hand that was in yours. It couldn’t be true. Benedict Bridgerton pining after you before your debut. He was an adventurist – a rake, who also did art. You’ve heard whispers about him and his brothers… And your brother. How they wanted to push off marriage until they’ve made themselves useful, some more than others.

Were you being bamboozled? How on God’s green earth were you getting this close to this… Unattainable man. Convicted. You have convicted his soul – sounds like the words of a true poet.

“When Antoine and your father granted me the blessing in pursuing you wholly and completely…” He shook his head sincerely. “I have never felt so honored.” Wow. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes watering – the experience seemed to be too real. And, he continues. “y/n, you have bewitched me. There has not been a day where you’ve been absent from my mind. Not a second.”

“Benedict,” You spoke, your tone in utter surprise. He was sharing more characteristics with Mr. Darcy than with Mr. Bingley. He must’ve been doing this on purpose, he has indulged in the works of Jane Austen nearly as much as you.

His hands caress up your arm, leaving your hand, finding comfort on your jaw. His thumb grazes your cheek lovingly. The artist struggles – tempted to just crash his lips against yours, but he couldn’t just yet. You blinked slow, wishing he’d lay himself upon you. It’s not like you could really formulate your words eloquently. You placed your hand on his elbow, leaning into his touch with need. It felt exhilarating to be touched by him – you wanted more. “Ben…” All you could do was repeat his name, dripping with unfathomed desire. You both breathed heavily, the sounds coming together as a union – nearly breathing each other’s air. His nose brushed yours, just before his lips plotted on the tip of it. A whine pulled from your throat in anticipation.

“y/n,” He spoke your name like a prayer, wistful – snagged from his diaphragm.

Slowly, he leaned down to her hovering his lips over yours. As if you’d done this before, your lips parted. The tip of your tongue grazing your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but hold your breath, breasts swelling from your loose bodice.

Pulling you flush to him by your waist, he finally and gently, places his lips upon yours. You release air from your nose, sliding your hand around his neck, your fingertips touching the shorter curls of his hair. Flutter. Flutter. Flutter! He kissed you with no matter of haste, he was savoring your touch. His hand remains in the divot of your waist, barely threatening to leave that spot.

Fireworks were exploding in the skies of your mind. Lips moving along with his, slowly drifting into a mode of passion. His grip intensified on your waist, wishing he could push you closer to him – as if you weren’t already touching. All it took was a hum to release between your lips for him to walk you back into a tree. When your back hit the bark, you yelped in surprise. Your attention is still completely on him, hands running through his dark shiny hair. Being overcome with impulse, you gripped his hair from the root – cousin a groan to erupt from his throat.

Benedict pulled back, the ends of his lips curling. “You… You are something.”

“Come here,” You party whine and demand, tugging him back to your lips.

He wouldn’t dare deny you, meeting your lips feverishly. His hands had grown to be more bold groping at your body. His intimate touch was beginning to make you heat up in nether places. Sounds erupting from your vocals that you have never heard in full. This would be quite the circumstance to be caught in – face-making with the man you are courting. Rather compromising.

But, it felt so good.

This is why it took a lot for you to pull away.

Breathing heavily, placing your hand on his chest – desperately wanting to tear the loose shirt from his body. “This… This is improper.” You heaved, a coy smile stretched on your lips. Benedict breathed just the same, his thumb wiping the corner of your lips adoringly.

“It is… But to hell with decorum.”

You laughed, caressing the back of his neck – wanting nothing more than to be entangled with him for all eternity. “Mind your tongue, Benedict.” You playfully scolded, looking up at him through your thick eyelashes. The softness of his untamed strands comforted you, subsiding – not erasing – your unbearable coil of desire.

“ I am minding my tongue…” He leaned forward, wanting to kiss you once more.

“We should get some sleep. I’m sure we are going to need as much energy as possible to bare my mother.” Your hand feels the strength of his throat, accidentally running over her adam’s apple as you descended. “And without sleep, that is impossible, my heart.” The man paused, both of his hands on either side of your face, lightly squishing your cheeks.

“My heart, is it?” Your face heated up, embarrassment flooding your hazy irises. You tried to flee his hands, but he wouldn’t let you. “I adore it. Just like I adore you… My love.”

His words and gaze make it impossible for you to leave. Your sister had to have been awaiting you or is asleep by now. She reminded you not to be too scandalous – whatever that meant. “I must go, despite how difficult you make it.” Your eyes jested, bashfully. Hands gripping his forearms lightly, urging him off – yet, not desiring his lack of touch. “You make it very difficult, might I add.”

“As do you, but you are right.” He slides his hands from your face, down to your shoulders. “I have to put this equipment away, and get a good night’s rest for-”

“My mother.”

“Yes, your mother – and whatever the day will bring.”

You look down to the grass, chuckling. Taking one of his hands in yours, you draw little hearts with your thumb on the back of his hand. “Then, I will leave you to it. Good night, Benedict.” A part of you was sad as if you weren’t going to see him in the morning for breakfast. The hours were too long – you wished you could stay beside him all night. He leans down, to kiss the back of your hand. Holding his lips against your skin, savoringly.

“Good night, y/n. I wish you heavenly dreams.”

You walk backward, slowly sliding your hand from his grasp. A beat passes, eye contact being the pair of yours’ main source of communication – so it seemed. “I love you, y/n Sinclair.”

Thump, thump, thump. A grin spreads on your lips, broad and silly, yet just as beautiful. “I love you, Benedict Bridgerton… Wholly and completely.”

#🌻#benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #delphi’s writing room #1k omg ty <3

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afyerarchive · 2 years

Text

Enderman x Reader Minecraft Date

● ————————— MINECRAFT

→ ABOUT / Just a casual day in your singleplayer Minecraft world; what's that in the distance? An Enderman? Aren't those things decently rare? Well, instead of getting a typical Ender Pearl, why don't you have a bit of fun with it instead -

→ DEMOGRAPHIC / gn ! reader

→ CW / minecraft date (idk if that counts as "fluff" or not) + mentions of getting hurt?

→ EXTRA / Writing this because I am absolutely out of ideas. Please give me something to do preferably genshin aaf afaffagbajkbsjkl (also im not proofreading this because it's 6 AM and I just wanna sleep)

——————————————————————————————————

Iron sword in hand, you stroll over the vast mountains of the world, passing llamas and goats; you're determined to find your home which you hadn't visited in days due to a recent mining venture. Well, at least the profits were fruitful. A few stacks of coal, a stack of iron, and precisely ten diamonds, along with a load of bread you found whilst passing a village on your journey back.

Upon seeing the silhouette of your beautiful Cottagecore-inspired house in the distance, you grin, brimming with excitement to finally be back home. Dangerously skipping down the final slope before reaching your residence, you fall, losing grip of sword, as you end up tumbling down the face of the mountain, landing in a pond at the bottom, blacking out.

LATER

A few hours pass. You slowly drift open your eyes, seeing a jet-black figure with entrancing purple eye features towering over your body. Clueless, you reach your hand out, trying to get a feel of it, before it backs away slowly, still keeping you in its view.

Jolting up to get a better look, you notice just how tall this thing actually was. Surely it was three blocks tall, maybe even more. If only you had such attractive features like that; oh, one can only dream.

Blushing, the figure holds out its hand. Hesitating, you slowly reach your out too, meeting it, and grabbing on tight, as it pulls you all the way up off of the ground. Wait, how had you gotten out of the pond in the first place? Still curious, you interrogate the creature.

Ah, so it's an Enderman. Aren't those things afraid of water? Fret not, this Enderman seemed to have already taken a special interest in you, thus why it helped you this whole time.

"So, what are you looking for?" You ask, trying not to look the Enderman in the eyes. "If there's a certain... block, or flower that you desire, I'd be more than happy to help you find it."

The Enderman shook its head shily, trying to gaze at you, but quickly turning away to face your home each time. To be honest, this situation you found yourself in was pretty awkward, however, let's not make it weird. Continuing this discussion, you think well, what? before getting the hint. Wait- this may be just a game, but can the Endermen have attraction to the players.

I mean, seriously, who the hell would code a feature like that?

"Do you want to try going on a date, perchance?" Glancing at the creature once more, still avoiding the eyes, you watch as it slowly nods in compliance. "Well, why didn't you say so from the start? I actually have quite the thing for people built like you."

Long story short, you were asked to set up two Dark Oak stairs for chairs, and a fence with a trapdoor on it in the middle, simulating that of a date you'd find in real life.

Oddly, it looked peaceful, and fit quite nicely under the canopy created by the balcony of your cottage. After scattering an assortment of flowers, this newfound creature sat down on the "chair" opposite of you, and made sure not to be as nervous this time.

With that, you enjoyed a cooked chicken together and had quite the talk about the current economic situation in the End Dimension.

A night well spent. You had all of your items back, and polished your sword back up to its peak performance, before turning back to the Enderman, who was standing there ominously.

"One more thing," it muttered. "Let me just look at you... one time." This thing's English was better than you imagined.

"I guess," you spoke nervously. Looking up to see its flat black head, and just edging the rim of those pure purple eyes, butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach. You'd never looked anyone in the eyes this romantically, let alone a creature of the night in Minecarft.

Sighing, you finally took a glimpse at them. What was not expected, however, was to see the Enderman's eyes widen, as if with fear and anguish, shaking ever so slightly, before running towards you.

Instantly, you regained your state of mind, trying to run away. But alas, your ex-lover-now-nightmare chased you back to the pond where you met, as you jumped in the water to avoid it.

Looking back, the Enderman was nowhere to be seen. Had you outrun it? Were you safe... for now?

Thoughts racing around your head, you sigh once more, trying to stay calm after the horrific sequence of events that just unfolded. Trying to think about it only hurt though, and you felt as if you were still being watched.

And, by some stroke of unfortunate luck, you felt something tight grab your body from behind, ripping you out of the water to an untimely fate.

God, I hated writing this.

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ares-would-be-proud · 3 years

Text

Izzy said: Fairy! Im so excited for your dark content!! Since i saw it on your other blog, may i request for yandere bertholdt 👀 i feel the would make the most unsuspecting but worst (or best?) Yandere next to armin because he's so gentle and unassuming and shy, no one would ever think he has other intentions

Yandere Bertolt pt.I

{ Bertolt x reader | tw:yandere, tw:toxic-behaviour, tw:near-death experince, tw:murder mystery? Eh kinda, tw:manipulation tw:Emotional-rollercoster | Dark romance, fluff, slowburn, lowkey funny ngl | Canonverse }

{ "Roses" 1878 by George Cochran Lambdin 1830–1896 }

Securing the last belt around your thighs before attaching it to the one near your knees, you made sure to tighten it as much as you can before sliding it in the metal head.

Having the equipment room all to yourself, you took your time in double-checking everything was in place. Making sure your gas tanks were filled, carrying spare steel blades and tightening your boot strings.

The manoeuvring gear's parts made a clinking sound against each other with every step you took. Making your way to the nearby woods acting as the training ground, the sun shining made you shield your eyes with your hands, taking some seconds to adjust to the brightness.

The road was clear, with almost no birds or squirrels in sight.

It was one of those days when the wind seemed so fast as it swept by you, so much in fact that you could visibly see the few clouds swimming by as if they're racing each other. A perfect day to spend near a lake maybe, or in a field of flowers, but you had to spend it training in the woods with the other soldiers till your fingers ached from pressing against the handgrips.

You wanted to get it over with, feeling nauseous. Probably because you managed to oversleep and miss breakfast.

It started as normally as any other training session went, pushing through till your autopilot took over. While fun at first, there's so much manoeuvring between tree branches to slash at 2d wooden cutout of titans you could do before it started getting repetitive.

And so you let your body take over and move on its own, taking you further and further towards the edge of the forest till you couldn't hear the sound of anyone else's manoeuvring gear except your own.

The high wind rustling the trees making the leaves fall distorted your visions as they fell on you, and the flashing sunlight that swept through the small openings between the leaves only made things worse.

Blinding you for split seconds, too bright in fact, that you had to close your eyes shut as it burned after the light fell directly against it.

It's only after a couple of seconds late, that the sound of something snapping registered in your brain.

You were slowly turning in the air, strong wind resistance coming from below as gravity pulled you down.

Things were moving too quickly to process, dread shot through your entire body in shivers, you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your throat as you came closer and closer to the ground.

No matter how many times your clammy hands attempted to work the pistol-shot, no hooks attached to the nearby trees despite the gears working as you heard its zipping noise.

The realisation of the situation you're in finally settled, you couldn't do a single thing, but watch the trees grow larger and larger by the second as you fell to your doom.

You've survived many expeditions and missions, you've escaped Titans teeth that were mere inches from biting your head off, and this is what will put you seven feet below? A mere fall?

...no, it wasn't just a fall, it was arrogance for taking it for granted. After all, overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer, sneaking on the second you let your guard down.

But was it?

A flash of today's morning comes before your eyes, your brain recalling the unusual spot your manoeuvring gear was placed, you were too sleepy to notice it at the time but now it's the only thing on your mind, did someone-

Before you could hit the ground, the familiar sound of pressured gas fizzling out followed by the clinking of metal swishing by.

One second you were almost slamming into the hard ground, the next you were caught by someone mid-flight.

Bertolt tightly pressed you against his chest with one arm, securing you in place while his other used his gear to reach the nearest tree branch.

Your hands wrapped around him, securing yourself even more. He didn't flinch when your nails accidentally scratched his neck from how hard you were holding him.

Despite how close you were to his chest, your own hammering heartbeat was the only sound you could hear for it was stuck in your throat as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You hesitantly let go the second your feet touched the ground, although still shaking you managed to find your balance again, yet, Bertolt's hand didn't leave your back.

You looked below at the wires dangling from your gear, their end visibly thinner than the rest of it. It still didn't register how a wire made out of iron could snap so easily…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the hand reluctantly turning your face back up, Bertolt's nervous eyes meeting yours.

"Don't look down too much, you'll get dizzy" he said, concern clear in his voice before stepping closer to you, his large body tucking you between him and the tree behind, as if you might slip away "are you okay? Did you get injured?"

A bit taken back by his dotting, you shook your head before thanking him for not letting you fall.

"Don't mention it please...it's nothing, really." That seemed to make the corner of his lips rise a bite, slight flushing to his ears. "Maybe you should get some rest, you didn't seem well back there."

Was he watching?

The thought disappeared from your mind as quickly as it came, the guy saved you from a head injury after all, the least you could do is give him the benefit of the doubt.

Not to mention, it was Bertolt. Has it been any other guy, Reiner or Jean for example, then your attitude towards this whole thing would've been completely different. Putting as much space as you can between the two of you after brushing off their hands.

Has it been any other guy...but it wasn't now, was it?

No. It was Bertolt, soft-spoken and easily flustered Bertolt, who got nervous in most situations and didn't reply to teasing.

Bertolt, who didn't say a thing when Eren stole his seat next to Reiner, instead settled to sit next elsewhere.

Bertolt, who always remained humble and downplayed his skills despite ranking in the top five and becoming a really valuable soldier.

Bertolt, who you've only ever said hi to before once before he seemed to panic and just awkwardly wave back instead.

Maybe that's why you didn't mind him being so close, he wasn't a threat and most everyone knew that. If you asked people to rank the top three men they'd feel safe in a room with, Bertolt would almost make it to everyone's top two.

And so when he offered to walk you back to your room, it didn't raise any red flags despite it meaning you'd be alone with him in the dorms while everyone was training.

The short walk went fairly nice actually, he kept a respectful space between you while making sure to walk at a slower pace so his height wouldn't force you to jog.

From the sweat collecting at his forehead and his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt he seemed to struggle to find a good conversation starter.

You could read him like an open book, it was quite endearing the way he commented over how nice the weather is, four times in a row while stumbling over his words. But you weren't that cruel and so you decided to grant him mercy, starting a topic yourself.

Talking about your interest, hobbies and things you'd do whenever those rare moments of peace and normalcy would arrive.

He shared his too, apparently, he's into journaling, finding it much easier to write his thoughts on paper than out loud.

One conversation pulled another, as he seemed to grow more comfortable the more you talked.

Although, he wouldn't meet your eyes for more than 5 seconds before turning his gaze away, yet you could feel them staring at you the second you turn your head.

Somewhere between your conversation, the subject switched to talking about life. Bertolt asked you if this is the kind of life you've wanted, words unusually firm that it made you pause.

The question was out of place, a huge switch from your previous fun topics.

Nonetheless, you answered, "I don't think anyone would willingly choose this life. It's more of...doing the most out of the cards you've been dealt, this just happened to be mine."

The sound of his footsteps stopped, you looked at his face, he didn't look away.

"Would you rather have a more normal life?"

The way he stood, his back to the sun with you in his shadow, an unreadable expression on his face, really brought out his height and large build that you've almost forgotten.

you unconsciously took a step back, he took a step forward.

"If by normal you mean a non-starving one where I'm not at the risk of being eaten daily, then yeah." You answered, time felt like it slowed down. The seconds stretched for too long as you watched his reaction.

He...smiled, a sincere smile, the kind that makes your eyes shine. Soft expression seemingly relieved as he continued walking, a slight bounce to his steps.

"I'd love that too, to have a normal life one day."

And then he proceeded to tell you about his dream, the normal life of peacefulness he seeks. Sharing as many details as time would allow, from the kind of person he wants to grow up to be, to the colour he wants to paint the house backyard's fence.

It was lavender.

When he mentioned wanting a dog, you couldn't decide what was funnier, the mental image of Bertolt with an equally almost as big kind of dog, or a small tiny breed that would fit in his hands. Taking him for walks and playing catch as the dog tackles him to the ground.

Some chuckles escaped your lips, and while Bertolt didn't know what you were smiling about, nonetheless he joined too.

Your time together was cut short when the dorms came into view. Feeling both relief for finally being able to rest and disappointment for having to end your conversation so soon, especially since you think this is the first actual talk you had with him besides saying hi before.

Bertolt, looking out for you, made sure to hold the door to your room open for you. Some part of your brain wondered how exactly he managed to guess which room was yours, the other simply couldn't wait to get into bed.

You sat on the bed, Bertolt invited himself in and closed the door behind him.

He took his time looking around your shared room with his eyes, staring at the titles of the books splayed on the table, taking in the smell of scented incense your roommate bought every month, the doodles, drawings and notes hanging by mere tape against the wall.

Finally, eyes landing on the top bunk bed, currently empty with your roommate having left too early in the morning for the preparations of their next expedition.

Well...after all you were too used to waking up by the sound of them opening and closing all the drawers in search of their glasses that they manage to lose each day, yet yesterday they made sure to sleep next to it.

Huh, maybe that's why you overslept.

Yet, Bertolt's eyes didn't move as he stared seconds too long, shoulders growing stiff and palms tightening against his side.

"They left for an expedition, a titan capturing one... I think." You explained, "it's supposed to last three days, but since it's led by Captain Hange...I wouldn't be too surprised if they still haven't left yet."

"Must be nice, having the room for yourself."

You agreed before adding "well, it still gets too lonely sometimes."

Bertolt looked like he wanted to say something, lips parting for a second before he pressed them close into a thin line.

An awkward silence filled the room, as you looked at Bertolt who seemed to revert back to his old nervousness.

"I think I should go, Reiner must be looking for me."

You thanked him again for his help, he avoided your eyes before mumbling a reply, saying it's really nothing.

Did you do something wrong? You couldn't help but think that, after all things were going so well just now. Why would he get on edge again?

As a final attempt to redeem yourself from whatever unknown act you must've committed for Bertolt to act this uncomfortable, you called out to him one last time.

"Hey, Bertolt. I know we technically just met but, just know you can drop by anytime okay? You seem like a nice person and we can be friends."

Oh god did you really say, we can be friends, what is this kindergarten again? Welp you fucked up, looks like it's another failure to add to the calendar, man and you've been keeping such a clean track of days without accidents.

You know what? No, forget it, you tried your best and you had good intentions so why should you ever feel guilty for-

"You really mean that?" Bertolt, whom

You've become aware was still in the room, said.

Not sure how to reply to this, you just gave a nod instead.

"I'd love that." He spoke with a soft tone. And despite his growing desire to move closer to you, he opened the door instead, sparing you one last sweet smile before he left.

And for a good minute there, his smiling face was all that occupied your mind, a fluttering feeling that came and went too quickly for you to acknowledge.

True to your predictions, the mission was apparently delayed till midnight for...undisclosed reasons. Although gossip spread faster than wildfire, and by dinner time everyone was talking about the argument Captain Hange and Captain Levi got into, the story got modified and exaggerated each time it was passed around.

"Listen, I was there and I saw it! Well...not with my own eyes but it doesn't matter." Your roommate said, too eager to spill you everything that they almost forgot to eat their food. "It was big, like Captain Miche having to restrain Levi kind of big!"

You gave them a silent look, raising an eyebrow.

"...okay jeez it didn't get this far but it felt like it did, like it almost happened." They poked their food with the fork, before deciding to try some.

Their pouting face almost made you want to tease them even more, just to see what corner you can back them into before they confess to making up half the story they've been telling you.

But a wrenching gut feeling suddenly shot through your body, coming almost out of nowhere, the kind you'd usually feel whenever a titan was targeting you.

Confusion was naturally your first response, there couldn't be any titans nearby. You swallowed down, no don't be silly, it doesn't even make sense.

Maybe...maybe it was one of those cases you studied in class? About people getting PTSD flashbacks at random times, or from small triggers?

The air seemed too cold and too hot at the same time, you forced your eyes to move around the room in an attempt to remind yourself everything is fine, that you're here.

Seeing your friends, fellow soldiers and veterans just sitting around, enjoying their food while joking with their friends, helped ground you to reality again.

Yeah...see? Nothing's wrong, everyone's having a good time so-

Your gaze met Bertolt's, dark eyes staring back but not at you. No, instead they were focused on your roommate. The knot in your stomach twisted.

Beside him, Reiner was murmuring something under his breath as he leaned closer to Bertolt, his stare following the other's gaze.

Reiner seemed unusual, drops of sweat collecting at his forehead while Bertolt was the opposite, the calmest you've ever seen him actually.

Reiner gave Bertolt one final look, lips moving too fast for you to attempt to even read. Bertolt nodded.

And then it was like nothing happened, both of them going back to their usual selves. Reiner's attention was stolen by Eren asking about his food, while Bertolt looked at Jean who sat next to him without asking before commenting on Eren.

"Hey, are you okay? You look…" your roommate said, concern in their voice before their hand found your forehead. "I heard what happened this morning, with the manoeuvring gear, I didn't want to bring it up but…"

You didn't have to be told twice, and so you reassured them it's okay, you'll get some rest, not like you'd complain about having an excuse to get a day off.

That seemed to make them satisfied, well...that and making you swear on the scouts' honour to take care of yourself while they're away.

After dinner, as you were headed to your room while your roommate had to get to the stable before heading out with their group, you passed by Reiner.

It wouldn't have been unusual, wasn't it for the fact he was fully in his uniform with gear ready that you had to do a double-take.

You swore you just saw him in casual clothes at dinner...was he also going on that mission? Huh, weird you can't remember seeing his name on the list.

The week passed by slower than you would've liked, with both of the survey corps Captains gone, most of the soldiers...really had nothing to do but waste time.

It was almost funny, wasn't it for the fact you were bored out of your mind.

Captain Miche rarely gave orders, the only time you'd see him is during training season when everyone had to do a round with him. While commander Erwin didn't really entrust soldiers who weren't close to him with his paperwork or even chores.

At least Sasha and Connie were making the most of it, whatever they were doing seemed fun…

Bertolt never took you up on your offer either, despite him seemingly having a positive reaction to wanting to be friends he didn't show up at all.

Yet you'd still see him hovering by, either being assigned the same chore together or simply happening to be in the same room at the same time. And despite how much you've thought about going up to him to start a conversation, you knew how to read between the lines. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable that's all.

He'll come when he's ready, is what you told yourself.

And well, you were right, eventually, he did.

Not only did he initiate talking, he even attempted to ask if you'd like to accompany him to the nearby town maybe.

With the way his hands were clasped behind his back and slight flushing to his cheeks as he summoned all his courage to ask you that, how could you say no?

It was almost like seeing an entirely different person.

Bertolt, in his casual clothes, as he strolled by you through the food stands, seemed a much more...healthier version of himself?

He looked at peace, the smile never leaving his lips. He even made jokes and shared his opinions without being asked.

Whenever you went to check something that stole your attention, he would quickly follow by to erase any form of distance. Whenever your eyes fell on a piece of accessories for too long, he'd suggest you try it on, putting it on you himself.

And yet, whenever his hand would brush yours by accident while walking, he'd almost stumble into the ground and quickly pull it back. Or the time you attempted to adjust the collar of his shirt and you swore his knees almost gave out when you stepped closer, reaching his neck.

Both of you tried different kinds of food, he even offered you his own if you seemed to enjoy a certain food. Saying he'd rather you have it.

Both of you being broke soldiers ment there are only so many things you can do in the town before quickly burning through your savings.

It wasn't long before he suggested going back, you agreed to take the long walk back to enjoy nature a bit more.

You've wondered how come Bertolt only seems the most comfortable when talking to you on walks, but the story he was telling you was too interesting for you to think about it now.

You listened to him talk, it felt like you could listen to him for hours on end before getting bored. For someone who rarely spoke, he surely did have a way with words when he actually did.

It was nice, comfortable and gave you a false sense of normalcy as if the world was okay for a short while.

One final thought you had just before the both of you parted to go to your separate rooms, was that if Bertolt was going to write about this day in his journal.

For each day of the remaining week, you and Bertolt managed to hang out more and more.

You went to the lake, a frog landed on him that you had to remove because he was too nervous he might crush it.

He took you to a nearby spot in the town, it seemed normal at first but he just told you to wait. Apparently, each after some dogs would frequent this spot and Bertolt has already made friends with most of them.

And on the last day, both of you actually just spent it...in his room. He had a really comfortable bed and feather pillows that you almost didn't want to leave. And despite sharing a bed he still would keep space between you, no matter the uncomfortable positions he had to sit in.

By the end of the week, the expedition group arrived during sundown.

Their heads lifted high, pride clearly across their faces as they rode their horses. Captain Hange especially seemed much more excited than usual, barely managing to stay still on their horse.

The mission was a success apparently, they've managed to capture two titans with zero mortality rate and minor injuries.

...well almost a zero rate.

You were called into Erwin's office in the middle of the night, when Moblit knocked on your door asking you to quietly follow him.

The night air was cold against your thin clothes, silence filling the usually busy hallways, now errly empty.

Knocking before he told you to enter, he seemed busy with some paperwork, instead offering you a seat and asking to wait shortly.

The curtains behind him were closed shut, the candle sitting on his desk seemed on the verge of burning out, melted wax collecting on the plate under it.

It wasn't till after some seconds that you realised you weren't alone in the room, Captain Levi was leaning against the wall on the other side, arms crossed.

The scratching of the pen against the papers would occasionally get replaced with the sound of dipping the metal head inside the liquid ink container, carefully wiping it against the opening to remove any overflowing liquid.

Your fingers fiddled with the red cushion on the armchair, leg slightly bouncing before you force it to stop each time.

Waiting...and waiting.

The back of your throat felt scratchy, only becoming aware of how dry your mouth was then. Attempting to swallow down as a form of relief didn't help much.

"Here, drink it." A glass of water was offered to you by Levi, handing it to you before going back against the wall.

Saying a small thank you before finishing the glass, you felt slightly better afterwards. Although the growing tension in the air didn't help ease your mind.

"Cadet." Erwin clasped his hands, "I apologise for calling you here this late, although considering the circumstances I'm sure you'd understand."

Opening one of the desk drawers, Erwin pulled out something wrapped in a napkin, the white cotton having a growing reddish stain in its middle.

"I offer my condolences."

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

The art and the artist - Harry Styles

the devil works hard, but im working harder lmao! this bts vid got me whipped and ended up writing this little something. enjoy! also, i did not proofread this so... mi scusi!

word count: ~1.5k

masterlist

gif by @stylesinthewild !

The warm Italian sun is beaming through the floor to ceiling windows, gently caressing Harry’s bare shoulders and his face that’s squished into the pillow. Gentle fingers are running up his spine, the feather-like touch slowly bringing him back into reality from his slumber, but he keeps his eyes shut, humming to himself at the sensation of those delicate fingertips running all the way up to his neck, they draw around the curl of his ear before moving over to his cheekbones, through his nose, down to his perfectly shaped, pink lips that slowly pull into a lazy smirk.

“Morning, Sunshine,” you whisper with a sweet smile tugging on your lips and when his eyes flutter open and his green irises meet yours, his heart skips a beat.

You’re lying next to him, on your side, still naked after the passionate love making from the previous night. The covers only run up to your navel, leaving your chest exposed to his greedy morning eyes.

It’s a view he can easily get used to wake up to every morning, your slightly puffy eyes from the sleep, the bright smile on your oh so kissable lips and your smooth skin, just screaming to be touched everywhere and he can’t wait to roam your body like it’s the first time he gets to feel you up. It’s not, he has explored your body over a million times, he knows every little freckle and wrinkle, probably more than you do, but he can never grow tired to love on you every given opportunity.

Pushing himself closer he steals a lingering kiss before letting his head fall back into the pillow, his green orbs staring into your eyes so intently, it feels like he is reading your soul.

“What do you feel like doing today?”

It’s the third day of your week-long vacation with him, your little getaway from everyone and everything, just the two of you in a magical Italian village in a hidden villa near the crystal clear ocean. You’ve been exploring the place since your arrival, wanting to see every tiny sight the village has to over you, but there’s only so much to see. Today brought the chance to slow down a little and take a breath, relax and unwind.

“We haven’t even used our pool yet,” he states matter-of-factly and you nod into the pillow, turning to your stomach and resting your head on your hands. Harry’s eyes wonder down your body, his gaze lingering over the curve of the side of your breasts as they are now pressed against the mattress, the lines of your ribs, the small daisy tattoo just under the line where your bra usually rests, the valley of your waist and then the delicious looking curve of your behind under the sheets. He drinks in every tiny detail of you, putting it away into the corner of his mind that’s entirely dedicated to his love for you.

“Pool day it is then,” you smile at him, having nothing against his suggestion.

Following a nice breakfast you put some sunscreen on Harry’s shoulders before he does the same for you, paying extra attention to the little freckles on your shoulders, even kissing them once he is done. You’re wearing a simple, baby blue bikini while Harry has his swimming trunks and an oversized, white shirt on. It swallows his frame, making him look a lot smaller than he is, his chest hair peeking out as he has only a few buttons done.

Both of you are feeling a little too full from breakfast to jump right into the water, so you opt to relax a little on the sunbeds besides the pool, you bring your book out with you in hopes to read a few chapters. Harry’s eyes are looking around the secluded backyard of the villa, eyeing all the different kinds of tropical plants in huge, ceramic pots sitting along the tall fence. Then his gaze stops on something and you see him moving from the corner of your eyes. You quickly finish the line you are reading and look up to see what your boyfriend is up to, finding him staring down at you with a hat on his head that’s filled with all kinds of flowers and dried plants and some glorious looking peacock feathers sticking out from the back. It’s more like an artistic peace rather than something you’d wear on the street, but Harry can surely pull it off, like anything else in fashion. You often think that he was born to own whatever fashion has to offer to one, there’s never been one think he couldn’t make look flawless and breathtaking.

His baggy shirt is hanging on his muscular frame, the sleeves covering his hands as he sits on the rocks around the plants at the end of the backyard, the endless, blue ocean running behind him along the horizon.

“Looking fabulous,” you smirk at him and he smiles back, tilting his head up a little so you can adore his perfect side profile as well.

“Try it on,” he tells you taking the hat off and holding out for you. Putting your book aside you stand from the sunbed and walk over to him, taking the hat and placing it on your head. It makes your hair stick to your head and you wonder how you look as Harry stares back at you with an amazed smile.

“You always tell me how good I make clothes look, but Love, you need to see yourself sometimes. You look absolutely stunning,” he praises, his bright eyes taking in the sight of you in front of him, in just your bikini and this fantastic hat. “I love this fit,” he adds smirking at you.

“Yeah? Is there anything that would make it even better?” you question with a raised eyebrow. You watch him look you up and down, taking his time to take in what he sees before he shakes his head no.

“No, it’s perfect.”

“I have a version I think you’d like,” you smirk at him playfully, his eyes meeting yours as he is trying to figure out what you have in mind.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, bringing your hands up to your neck and easily untying your bikini behind your neck then back, letting the top fall to the tiled ground in a heartbeat, Harry’s lips parting at the sight of your almost fully naked body. “What about now?” you tease, bringing your hands over your stomach, slowly making their way up over your breasts, cupping them slightly before they stop at the nape of your neck, your arms covering your hardening nipples from his greedy eyes.

“You’re right. It’s way better,” he breathes out, lust lacing through his raspy voice and you can tell he is getting excited as a bulge is starting to form in his swimming trunks.

“Yeah? And what about…” Your hands slide down to the sides of your bikini bottoms, hooking your thumbs into it and slowly pushing it down, the fabric gliding over your butt until you let go of it and let it fall to the ground, joining the top. “What about this?” you innocently ask, standing completely naked in front of him, his eyes devouring you, burning down on your body as he is thinking about how he should grab a canvas and paint your beauty right now, preserving this moment forever.

He is fascinated by how the Sun is gleaming on your skin, your hair carelessly falling to your shoulders and that confident, wicked smile on your lips is making him feel things only you can bring to him. Licking his lips he nods in approval before his eyes move up to meet yours again after the wonderful trip they did on your body.

“You are art, Love,” he tells you, making your heart flutter in your very naked chest. You breathe out biting into your bottom lip before you take the hat off and throw it in his way that he easily catches.

Turning around you step to the edge of the pool, but you look back at him over your shoulder.

“Come be an artist then, and claim your art,” you tell him with a challenging smile before you jump into the cool water, the glistening blues swallowing your naked form from Harry’s needy eyes.

When you come back up, you only see the hat sitting on the ground and his abandoned white shirt next to it, the water wavering not only around you, but at a spot near the edge where you jumped in.

A few seconds later Harry’s head emits from the water just inches away from you, his hands quickly finding their way around your waist as he pulls you against him, fingers digging into your soft skin.

He smirks down at you, blinking a few times to get the water out of his eyes before he speaks up.

“I fucking love Italy.”

#harry #styles #harrystyles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles golden #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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bokutosvoid · 4 years

Text

Remember me, even when I’m gone | t.s

pairing - tendou x imaginaryfriend!reader (fem reader)

(A/N; okay I wrote this last night at one in the morning and I don’t know how I feel about this, it’s much longer than I originally wanted.)

Genre - fluff and angst with a happy-ish ending.

Warning - suggested bullying and descriptions of cuts and blood.

Word count - 2.1k

Tendou sat alone on the grass lawn behind his house that led to towering trees and shrubbery he hoped to once venture to find you. Tendou watched the sky with longing as brisk air blew around him, fluttering his hair and eyelashes gently. The red head boy flopped backwards, the long grass felt itchy against his pale skin but he didn't want to move so he allowed the prickly feeling to remain. The gleam of the sun made his eyes shut slowly, the wind ruffling his shirt in this comforting way.

He felt something bop onto the tip of his nose, followed by a soft laugh that ripped his eyes open. “Are you okay?” your voice peeped “Satori~” you sang with a smile, looking down at him. Your eyes were filled with delicateness, soft and gentle in a way Tendou hadn't ever seen. He didn't expect you to look at him with disdain, but at this point it felt like muscle memory for everyone to be scared of him at first glance. But this feeling he felt when you reached out to him, no fear occupying any space in your mind, it was a feeling that was new, like a warm hug from someone he wished to find.

“How was your day?” you asked, sitting down next to him, pressing your leg next to his. He looked away from you, and towards the fresh wound on his knee, a small amount of dried blood surrounding the shallow graze. You took notice of his quiet demeanour, glancing to where his eyes fell. A soft gasp escaped you as you scrambled up onto your knees to examine his cut, using gracious touches so as to not hurt him. Frustration bubbled in your chest ferociously as his face remained nonchalant. “Did they do this to you?” you asked.

Satori nodded. “Yeah...kept callin’ me a monster too...but it's oka-'' his words were cut short as your small hand squished his cheeks together. Your eyes burned with unsweet tempered anger for the people who did this to him. “It's not okay. You're not a monster, Satori...say it...please” you pleaded softly, wanting him to see what you did.

His eyes widened, blown wide by your words. The sudden, all-consuming thought that you were an angel crossed his mind, briefly, but long enough to halt his own words for a moment. Your hand remained squishing his cheeks, warm but with purpose. After a few quiet moments, the silence filled with the wind, Tendou was able to speak. “I'm not a monster.”

Once your hand left his flushed cheeks, the air felt colder with the absence of your warm palm. He missed that warmth that you gave him for a long time after that. Getting onto your knees, you ran over to the tap on the fence, ripping away poison ivy vines as if it were nothing, only to wet the corner of your dress before running back. You sat between Tendou’s knees as you cleaned the blood. “Your dress is getting dirty, y/n.” Satori interrupted, but you only gave him a smile. “I don't mind, it’s what friends are for,” you looked up at him once more. “Isn't it?” Tendou didn't know, he hadn't ever had a friend to clean his cuts and piece him back together as gently as you did.

From that day, you remained by Tendou’s side, kissing better his bruises and making him repeat the notion that he isn't a monster, that he isn't disposable, that he isn't unwanted. The question as to if you were an angel remained a common occurrence for him, not seeing how a human could love him as much as you had, how you were able to see something in him under surface level.

Satori gifted you flowers bundled messily in his fist, blushed cheeks as he held them before you. You looked up at him and took them with a smile every time, holding them as if they were jewels and not roses missing petals. He didn't care about the thorns, only taking notice of them as he pulled them off so they wouldn't hurt your precious hands. But the small pricks to his fingers did not pass you as he wiped the small amounts of seeping blood onto his shirt. You tended to the cuts again, patiently placing pink bandaids over each of his sores, never forgetting to leave a gentle kiss over it. You were his remedy and your tender, sweet affection always made him smile.

Some nights, he would beg you to stay. Between his shaky breaths and teary eyes, you agreed, whispering ‘only five more minutes’ before climbing into bed with him. Tendou was taller than you, but at times it felt like you were the one protecting him. But you didn't mind. He pressed his forehead against yours to obtain some of your warmth, hands tangled together as you waited for him to drift to sleep. You stayed for a moment, looking at his calm face. You liked to see him calm and peaceful.

Your laughs echoed off the branches the day you dragged him to the woods, finding a tree not too deep into the maze of greenery. “Here!” you picked up a rock. He looked at you confused. “What is that for, y/n?” Tendou asked, still holding your hand.

“Im marking the tree!” you smiled, walking towards the tree. “This is our tree, Satori. So this tree will be ours forever...so you can remember me, even when i'm gone!” you laughed, carving your name into the tree. You turned to him, “we will be best friends forever, This will prove that” he took the rock from your hand and began carving his name into the tree. “But you’ll always be here...right, y/n?”

One night, you stayed up late to watch the stars. Everything just felt...right. It felt like Tendou was complete. Safe with you there, holding his hand tightly as if to make sure you were still there. He noticed how you kept squeezing his hand, your touch loosening as your voice went quiet for a while. He looked to the side to find you, and saw a tear sliding down your cheek. He immediately sat up, panicking slightly as your skin had become pale, maybe it was just the moonlight, but he knew deep down that wasn't it.

“y/n...what's wrong? Are...are you okay?” he asked, wiping the stray tear off your cheek. You sat up, looking at him, taking in his face. “I love you, Tendou. Thank you...for being my first real friend.” you looked up at him with glossy eyes, bringing tears to prick his own.

“I love you too, y/n...thank you...for finding me.” he nodded, pulling your body towards his chest.

That night, after you had let Satori fall asleep, you watched from his door and a feeling you didn't understand wracked your entire body. It hurt and reached deep down into your chest. You didn't know why this departure hurt so much as it was the same as every night, but this odd melancholy feeling was suck drifting over your head as you turned away and walked down the hallway of his home, out the door and into the world.

Tendou never saw you again after that night. He waited for you in the field, but all he found was the space you used to fill. Now empty and lacklustre with the missing piece of him that was you. He waited until dark, hoping that maybe you would come. But you never did. He screamed into the world, hoping maybe you’d come back to him, he searched the sky for you everyday. After a few years, the memory of you had become distant but cherished. When Tendou recalled your voice, your smile, you, his heart sunk with unknowing of where you had gone, why you had left him. He wasn't mad at you, no, he just missed you. He missed you so very much. Every now and then, Satori would venture to your tree, a place that was a physical totem of you and proof that you were there once. You were there and you left Tendou with fleeting memories and this longing feeling that remained a long time afterwards. The names carved into the tree that you shared remained, only your one didn't look like he remembered it, instead of messy, childlike writing he thought were so pretty then, your name was now written like his was in the same writing.

Tendou didn't think the memory of you would follow behind him for as long as it did, staying fresh in his mind all through highschool where he recognized that you were imaginary, nothing more than a perfect angel he had created to be by his side. His parents would often bring up the imaginary friend Tendou had, saying how he would spare her seats at dinner or make sure she always had a pillow to sleep on. He would laugh along but it was always accompanied by this weird twinge to his heart. You just felt so real.

The question if you were even there kept him awake some nights, tossing and turning with doubtful thoughts rattling around his head. He could have sworn you were. The way you held his hand and wiped his tears felt so real. The way you would tell him “as long as i am here, nothing can hurt you, Satori.” when he would come home with fresh scrapes on his cheeks and chin, sitting under the glow of the sun as you told him he was beautiful. Each brush of your fingers, each of your lashes and soft laughs, it all felt so real.

That feeling lingered even as he ran towards the train station on a cold morning, bundles of books in his arms as people stared at him, eyes upon eyes glued on him. Satori had gotten used to it now, but those people were the last thing on his mind as he tried to make the train that would be arriving in less than two minutes. Once his feet made contact with the platform, he heaved out heavy breaths. A sudden jerk sent him falling backwards, the cold concrete making harsh contact with his back. He sat up, groaning as he looked back to the group of people who had knocked him over.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked him as his head was turned. It felt like someone had shot electricity up his spine, sending a rush through his entire body. That voice…

Tendou looked at the person before him, eyes blown wide as they looked down to him. You stood there, softness covering your face as you looked at him worriedly. The train zoomed by behind you but Satori could only notice the way your hair looked as the wind picked it up, flourishing around your face. He could have sworn it was you. Your eyes held that same look you had given him all those years ago.

“I saw those people knock you over...god, some people are rude.” you scoffed before dropping to your knees, to pick up the books and papers that laid scattered on the station ground.

Tendou couldn't say anything, all motion felt ceased as he looked at you. You looked different, but all the same in a way. Words felt harsh as he tried to find the right ones. He saw you pick all his things into a neat pile before putting them next to him. “Did you hit your head?” you checked his face for cuts, but all seemed fine. Tendou felt his heart squish in his chest. Was it really you?

“No...i’m alright, thank you” he responded and you nodded. Sighing with a smile. “What's your name?” Satori blurted before he could stop himself. Your lips remained pulled into a grin as you answered. “My name is y/n l/n...what about you?” you asked, standing to your feet.

“My name's Tendou Satori.” he responded, trying to process. It's you. You're here. “Well, it's very nice to meet you, Tendou,” you held a hand towards him. He looked at your outstretched arm and fleeting memories came rushing back, now vivid and bright. He took your hand, getting to his feet. You gave a departing smile before you walked past. After a silent moment, Satori turned quickly, suddenly.

“Wait!” but when he turned, he saw your fading figure walking away.

His legs moved before he could think, bringing him to you. He stopped, a small distance keeping you apart.

“Wait…” he panted, out of breath but still determined. You turned to him. “Yeah?” you laughed softly.

He had so much to say, so many things he needed to say. But he had found you, or maybe you had found him. Whatever it was, he didn't want to lose you again.

“Do you wanna hang out sometime?” was all he could think of. But your lips curled into a smile.

“Sure.”

#tendou scenario #tendou x reader #tendou satori #tendou angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #shiratorizawa #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #satori x reader #satori tendo x reader

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Soulmarks, Part 2

First part

~~~

She sighed and rested her hands on her hips, her fingers carefully detaching her yoyo.

They were giving her orders, she could tell from their tone, but she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. She barely spoke English outside of a few vague lessons she’d had when she was a kid, and they were talking too fast for her to catch a single word.

“You know, I’d love to do that, but I don’t speak English.”

The person paused at this, and then they switched to fluent French: “Oh, sorry. Turn around slowly and don’t make any sudden moves.”

She slowly turned around, resting her hands behind her back. His gun lowered slightly to point at her legs and she let herself relax a little bit. A shot would be absolutely terrible, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to kill her.

She flashed Nightwing a bright smile. “Why, hello, sir!”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Ladybug...” They didn’t know who she was, so she didn’t have to hide her yoyo. She pulled it out from behind her back and started doing tricks with it to let out some of her nervous energy. “And, well, I’m here because I think my soulmate is in trouble. Apparently you, Batman, and Batgirl all know them.”

Nightwing’s eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. “Uh… can you prove that?”

“See, the problem with that is most of my soulmarks have disappeared for them. All of them, actually.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I’ll explain it to you…”

“Oh! No, they’re not dead! I thought they were, but then a new soulmark appeared and it’s… weird? Weirder than their normal ones, at least...”

She trailed off. Her eyes narrowed slightly. He’d certainly phrased the ‘I’ll explain it to you’ thing oddly, it was almost as if there was someone else there that she didn’t know about.

Her eyes searched the area for a sign of movement as she continued: “I don’t know if you can make sense of it. It’s a gun, but it’s one of those fake ones with the little flags that say ‘BANG’ you see in cartoons…”

Her eyes spotted a flickering in the shadows and she cringed mentally. Damn, she hated it when she was right. Whoever they were, she couldn’t see a glint of metal. So it was probably safe to assume they didn’t have a weapon out --.

“Where was it?”

She pulled her attention back to Nightwing. “Over my heart. Do you know what it means?”

He obviously knew, but he seemed hesitant to say anything. This really didn’t help her anxiety about the situation. He’d been prepared to tell her that her soulmate was dead, so just how bad could this be?

He opened his mouth to tell her, but he was cut off as a gun went off a few blocks away.

Listen, she wasn’t proud of it. But she was anxious... and it was at least two-on-one... and he’d had a gun pointed at her. She latched her yoyo around his wrist.

His eyes found their way to the polka-dotted yoyo and shock flickered across his face. “You’re-- oh sh --!”

She threw him to the next building without thinking and brought her hands up to her mouth as he crashed into a wall. Oops. He was a human.

She wheeled around to find Batgirl and held up her hands with a weak smile. What was the English word? “Sor-ree,” she said. She pointed the woman in the direction of the gunshot. “Can you? I’ll fix ‘im.”

Batgirl was apparently stunned enough by what Marinette had said that she complied.

She quickly hopped over to where Nightwing was and cringed as she summoned her lucky charm. The first thing she thought of popped into her hand: a computer mouse. “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” she mumbled.

He could only groan in response.

“Miraculous Ladybug,” she said.

He was enveloped in ladybugs and, when they cleared, he was patting himself with a shocked expression. “What the-- how did-- why--?”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. Are you alright?”

“I’m… fine, apparently,” he assured her. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and gave her a weak smile. “Well… that was certainly one way to meet the inlaws.”

“HUH?”

She let them escort her, blindfolded, to the batcave.

Did she think it was stupid and unnecessary? Yes, she was already lost enough without the whole blindfold thing. Did she care? No, if this is what it would take to figure out if her soulmate was okay she would do it.

The blindfold was whipped off her face and a gasp left her lips.

“Oh, I need to get me one of these.”

Nightwing laughed and Marinette felt her face warm. She’d meant to be quieter.

She was allowed to wander around while Nightwing explained the situation to Batman and Batgirl. She tried not to laugh at all the names on plaques starting with ‘Bat’. She wondered if Nightwing was actually called BatNightwing.

“Ladybug!” Called possibly-BatNightwing.

She smiled awkwardly as she walked over. She perched herself on a railing.

Batman handed her a tiny device and she raised her eyebrows.

“It’ll translate everything so we can all speak in our native languages,” he explained calmly.

She nodded and placed it in her ear and pressed on. Lights flickered in front of her eyes and she stared at the interface in front of her with a stunned expression.

She reached up and selected her language and then waved for them to go ahead.

“Your soulmate is Tim Drake. He went missing on patrols about three weeks ago,” explained Batman.

Her eyes widened at the text in front of her and she pulled out her yoyo again. Her soulmate was a vigilante? You’d think she know about it from her soulmarks...

“What was his hero name?”

Nightwing shook his head. “Vigilante, not hero. And Robin.”

She hit herself in the face with her yoyo. Ah, so he wasn’t an avid birdwatcher, he was a bird-themed vigilante. She supposed that did make sense, considering her chosen career path.

Batgirl crossed her arms over her chest. “And you swear it’s a gag gun?”

“Do I have a reason to lie?”

Batgirl shrugged a little bit.

Batman seemed to think for a minute before sighing. “She’s a child, we can’t tell her this.”

“A child who launched that guy --” she jabbed a finger towards Nightwing “-- across some rooftops.” She smiled brightly. “So, how about we start talking, please?”

Batman sighed again. “No need for threats. We think he’s been captured by Joker.”

“And Joker is…?”

“A Rogue -- or I guess you would know of him as a criminal or villain. He’s pretty big here,” explained Batgirl.

She nodded slowly. That explained the deck of cards that had been on her back since she was a child. She started messing with her yoyo again.

“So, he was captured by Joker and…?”

Everyone looked at the oldest to explain, and Batman shook his head slightly. “He’s seemed to have lost his identity, if everything has disappeared.”

She thought about this for a minute and her face paled. What could Joker have done to him for him to lose his identity? She found herself hoping he’d just gotten hit too hard on the head once and lost his memory. That was the best case scenario.

Somehow, she doubted it.

“Right, so how do we save him?”

The Batmobile was… cramped.

The thing was huge, but there was very little actual room to sit for anyone besides Batman. Nightwing joked that it was almost as if he didn’t want anyone else in there.

In the end, Marinette got to sit in the passenger’s seat while Nightwing and Batgirl cursed their father out from the roof of the car. Sure, they were going slower than usual so no one would fall off and die, but it couldn’t be fun. She messed with her summoned yoyo (yes, she summoned a yoyo with her yoyo, what of it?) as she listened in to make sure they didn’t fall.

All too soon and yet far too late, they stopped at the gates to Arkham Asylum. She and Batman climbed out and helped the others down.

They all hopped the fence and Marinette sent a cheeky grin as she slipped through the bars.

Nightwing sighed. “I wish I was that tiny again.”

She gave a quiet laugh.

Everyone’s slight smiles dropped off their faces as they entered the asylum.

A shiver ran through her at the singing that floated through the mostly abandoned building. Everyone exchanged glances and then Nightwing and Batgirl split off.

She and Batman made their way through the halls, following the sound. She fought the temptation to curl in on herself or run away.

Batman sent her a look, a ‘stay back’, and then burst through the door.

Marinette slowly inched around the door as well, looking for cover. The place looked like Picasso had tried to make a house. There were walls where there shouldn’t be and an extra floor that just jutted out from the wall. Typical household items were placed around at random. It felt warped and… wrong.

The woman cut herself off and set a vase of flowers on the table. She turned around and looked up at the chair. “Puddin’, company!”

Marinette took the chance to dive under the table.

Her eyes landed on a… was that a bazooka? She’d never seen one in person before, and being so close to it made her anxious. She scooted as far away from it as she could. Her fingers pulled up the tablecloth slightly and she ducked down to see what was going on.

The man in the chair turned around to look and then smiled. “Hello there,” he said, stepping down. “Welcome to our happy abode!”

Joker and the woman embraced each other.

Batman didn’t humor them. “Where’s Robin?”

The couple looked at each other with mock confusion. “Robin? There’s no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J!”

“Of course!” Joker snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”

They both looked at a blue curtain and Batman scowled as he strode towards it.

The woman giggled and reached under the table, her hand poking Marinette’s face. She made a quiet sound in the back of her throat and continued on, grabbing the bazooka. “Uh-uh! No peeking!”

Marinette’s eyes widened in horror as she pointed it at Batman but, before she could react, she pulled the trigger.

Ribbon wrapped around him.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mommy’s little helper!” Said the woman brightly.

Joker pressed a kiss to her cheek. ��You know, bats, we’ve been doing this little runaround of ours for years. It’s been loads of laughs, but the sad fact is…” He stepped towards the curtain. “None of us are getting any younger.”

“That old clock’s a-tickin!”

“Quite right, poo. And Harley and I were thinking it was time to start a family. Add a Joker Jr. to our merry brood.”

“But rather than go through all the joy of childbirth, we decided to adopt.”

“We couldn’t do it legally, but then we remembered you always had a few spare kids hanging around!”

Harley beamed and suddenly grabbed one of Marinette’s pigtails. A curse slipped from her lips as she was pulled out from under the table. “Whoops! There’s another one!”

“A surplus, really!” Joker grinned more widely than ever. “So we borrowed one.”

He pulled back the curtain with a dramatic flourish to reveal… an operating table?

She looked at the person on the table and felt bile rise in her throat. Their skin was blotchy white and paper-like from bleach treatments. Their eyes were unblinking and nearly pupil-less. The smile on their face was so wide that it had to have been stretched somehow.

“He needed a little molding, of course. What kid doesn’t? But, in time, we came to love him as our own. Say hello, J.J.”

The person started to laugh. The kind of laugh someone makes when they’re trying their hardest not to cry. They hopped down and laughed harder, their arms clutching their stomach as a few stray tears slid down his face.

~~~

Next part

Every time I think I know how long a fic is going to be I’m wrong help --

Taglist

@pawsitivelymiraculous @golden-promises @salty-fang @kitsunebell @sassakitty @octobitch @glastwime859 @miyla-lokidottir @onlyabatfan @ira-sairain @2confused-2doanything @ultimatetornshipper

#soulmarks #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #maribat #adribat

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