#you really wonder why we’re not going anywhere as a society and then

[cherriiramen]

“I don’t see the potential in McHarrison, George is ugly anyway and Paul can do better!”

[the-himawari]

A3! Spotlight Event Translation - Spotlight (Secret): Ikaruga Brothers & Hyodo Brothers & Shadows in the Moonlight (1/19)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

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Prologue: Secret Special Feature

*door opens*

Kasumi: Hi there.

Izumi: Kasumi-san!? Wait, did we have a meeting scheduled today?

Kasumi: Nope. I had an interview nearby, so I decided to stop by.

Izumi: Oh, I see! That surprised me.

Kasumi: Ahaha. I guess my little prank was a success. I’m glad I happened to bump into Isuke outside. Oh right. Thanks to all of you, our last feature on Flora High and Tsuku High was a huge hit. It looks like everyone can’t stop longing for their youths, huh?

Izumi: I guess so. I’m glad all the readers enjoyed it. Ah. You came all the way here, so please have some tea. I’ll make some right now.

Kasumi: Aw, thank you. Actually, I also brought something I’d like to pass along to you. I received a whole lot of these, so I’m sharing them with you.

Izumi: Woah, thank you so much! Are these sweets? They’re all Christmas-y and adorable!

Kasumi: Hehe, aren’t they? There’s several different types of packaging…. This one’s a Christmas tree, and this one looks like Santa.

Izumi: Ah. Is this one a gingerbread man? Christmas is just around the corner, alright.

Kasumi: Mm, I wonder if I can ask…

Izumi: ? What is it?

Kasumi: What are your plans for Christmas? Naturally, I’m going to spend mine with my daughters… But I wonder who Director will be spending it with.

Izumi: I’m… not telling.

Kasumi: Aw~.

Izumi: You’ll see if you come to the MANKAI dorm.

Kasumi: Ahaha. Doesn’t that mean you’re going to spend it with all the troupe members?

Izumi: Fufu. I heard it’s common to spend Christmas with your family overseas.

Kasumi: Family…? I see. Why don’t we make “family” the next “Spotlight” special feature then? Because we’re family, there are sides of each other that we know, and on the other hand, sides of each other that we don’t know. And there are surely bonds that you would never be able to form anywhere else. I’ve always wanted to write an article about that kind of special, deep relationship. During this season, I’m sure each family has their own Christmas stories and such. We can ask troupe members who have family or close connections within or outside the troupe. What do you think?

Izumi: Family, huh… (Speaking of families, we have Juza-kun and Kumon-kun, Misumi-kun and Madoka-kun, and also…) (Hisoka-san and Chikage-san, I suppose?) (If we’re going to make a special feature, then the Hyodo brothers might be a good choice…) (But I think it would be safer not to reveal the relationship between Misumi-kun and Madoka-kun since he's still just a student and part of another troupe.) (As for Hisoka-san and Chikage-san…) I-It’s really hard to explain…

Kasumi: Hm?

Izumi: Ah, nothing! … …I think there are lots of different types of families, not just one. There are families that society would call "normal families", and there are also families who have missed each other and are now finally growing closer, little by little… There are also families who may not be related by blood, but the strength of their bonds are even stronger than that. MANKAI Company is like one big family, so I consider all of them my family. That’s why when you say “family”, it’s a bit hard to narrow it down…

Kasumi: …I see. That’s very true. A “family” is a special relationship, so it can be difficult sometimes. I mean, even our home is a bit different than what society considers normal as well. Alright, let’s discuss the next special feature again in a proper meeting next time.

Izumi: Sounds good. (I know I was declining the offer in a roundabout way, but I’m grateful Kasumi-san understood.) (Though, I do feel sorry I turned down the special feature just like that. I’ll have to properly explain the circumstances and apologize later…) (It won’t fill in for the feature, but I wonder if they’ll tell me if I ask them. About their special memories with their precious family members—)

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[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: May 1

We made it to May!!! I’m finally feeling like I’m catching up on some stuff and a lot of that is reading. Thank you to some really lovely writers for the amazing fic I read this week....

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

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FRANKIE MORALES

untitled by @intheorangebedroom  Holy holy balls, this kinky fic came out of nowhere and just slapped my my ass into tomorrow. Competency kink, hand-on-the-stick kink... this one goes into my permanent re-read library. Geezuz I am compromised. But I also love the complete package made of Frankie here. He’s still sweet and unassuming, but when he shows his skills, he does so confidently and I’m SWOONING.

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DIN DJARIN

Competing For Christmas 8: Every Year, Every Christmas by @something-tofightfor  The feels in this fic are so so good and every time there’s a new chapter I just swoon for more. We’re almost at the end now, and there are partings to be made and things to be said and Boba Fett is a GD king (in more ways than one). I love how Rachael has woven the Mando characters into this series and all I want now is to teach Din how wonderful a Christmas tree truly can be...

The Shallow by @insomniamamma 🪐 When J does angst she makes it more beautiful than I want it to be. Her hurt is exquisite and the love that shines in the middle of it is even brighter. At the same time, this story taps into my primal fear of space and what it can do and the laws of physics that aren’t worth tampering with. And yet...in the midst of fear and regret...that kiss is so so soft....

Crash Into Me by @grogusmum  What if Din’s home species has A/B/O dynamics and he never got to learn much about them before he was taken away and then learns suddenly one day that he’s an alpha? This. This is what happens. Without being brought up in an alpha-dominated society, he may have learned other values...soft ones...

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PERO TOVAR 

Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere by @littlemisspascal  I love that when the reader gets into trouble the first thing that goes through her head is an insurance jingle. And I love that it has unexpected consequences. And I love that part of the consequences is Pero in a leather jacket. Yes plz.

Wait No Longer by @lowlights  I am going to be thinking about Pero going down on me in a semi-public place for a good week after this. Damn.

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DIETER BRAVO

Warm Up by @ezrasbirdie I love love love this soft smutty little interlude. So much. Why can’t it be me. Imagine being the woman Dieter’s madly in love with and just showing up on set in Dieter’s trailer and immediately passing out? How do you think the disaster pancake would wake you up? Correct. Go get it.

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JACK DANIELS

You’re the Fire by @writeforfandoms Do I love Jen’s dragonrancher Jack series? Hells yes I do. Things are ramping up now and we’ve got Harry and Merlin coming into the mix and getting ready to do the Golden Circle dirty. But first, Eggsy the awkward teen dragon kind of has my whole heart...

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JOEL MILLER

Letters and Sketches Part 1 and Part 2 by @never--doubt 🪐 I can’t even imagine how painful it would be to find your soulmate and then lose them for 20 years. I don’t know how I’d go on. But if it happened to me, I’d hope the reunion would be something like this...

Touch Memory by @omgreally​ Just a short moment, a lovely, needed, smutty moment with Joel, giving him his first go after Tess. It’s what he needs, and you both enjoy it. I know I did.

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TIM ROCKFORD AND THE THIEF

The Rockford Twins (prelude) by @beecastle !!!! I’m so so so excited for this premise! Tim and the Thief (Thomas Rockford) are twin brothers and complete opposites. I love so much that Bee sets us up for some flopped expectations, but also a sibling rivalry that is old and intense. If this is just the prelude, I cannot wait to see what’s to come!!

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

Saying I Love You Through a Movie by @songsformonkeys 🪐 I have long missed Javi and his bodyguard and they’re back!!! As usual, the pining is sweet, Javi is sweeter, and the need to protect him is strong. So strong that reader bodyguard really can’t allow themselves to give into any of Javi’s sweetness for fear of not being able to protect him...but how to resist??? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

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EZRA

Slow by @haylzcyon​ I can’t explain to you the chokehold this fic has on me. It’s one thing to be the girl Ezra just regularly uses with such cocky confidence, but to watch him adjust to your request--to “fuck me like you love me”--I don’t know what to say. It’s exquisite, masterful smut, with complicated and twisting feelings lurking just beneath the surface in the most intricate patterns. Holy balls. My lands. THE VAPORS.

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GUEST OF HONOR

DEATH (SANDMAN)

Death Kindly Stopped For Me by @blueeyesatnight I want you to take a moment, find somewhere quiet, and read this fic. Death has not come to do her job, but still comes when you call, when you are lonely and sick and miserable and think she is what you need. But she’s learned from humans and expanded her services, and tonight she’s come for another thing she is so good at...comfort. It’s so beautiful. My heart just loves this piece.

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[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Maniac [05]

Monologue

A little while has passed, since we came here to Rotigenberg. 

Even though we were starting to feel a little impatient,

while being kept waiting for a chance to talk to Kino-kun,

we had a clear reason for coming here.

ーー Second-rate Demons. 

We came to realize,

why exactly the Ghouls were given said name.

Despite being non-human, they do not have any kind of special powers. 

These people... They have no other choice,

but to endure this disability on a daily basis.

ー The scene starts in town

Lucks: Sorry for making you come with me.

Yuma: I don’t mind, really. Why did ya need to come to town exactly? 

Lucks: I’ve been put in charge of restocking of our supplies. We’re going to drop by various places to collect everything we need.

Yui: You each get a different task assigned? 

Lucks: Yes. Us Ghouls work together like that to sustain our society. ...We can’t go out in group after all.

Yuma: Aah? What do ya mean?

Lucks: Nevermind...Oh, this is the first store on the list. Let’s go inside. 

ー They enter a store

Shop owner: Welcome, come on in! What are you looking foーー Ah?

Yui: ( ...? His expression suddenly turned stern? )

Shop owner: You...You’re a Ghoul, aren’t you? Ghouls are forbidden from entering this store. Get out!

Yui: ...! No way...!

Lucks: It’s fine, miss. ...I am deeply sorry to cause you discomfort but there’s something I’d like from your store. Please?

Shop owner: I don’t sell my goods to Ghouls. If you won’t willingly go home, then...!

*SPLASH*

Lucks: Ugh...!

Yuma: Oi, bastard! He’s yer customer, isn’t he!? Ya might not be fond of him, but do ya really have to dump water on his head like that!?

Lucks: Yuma, stop! ...I understand. My apologies for the intrusion. 

ー They leave the store again

Yui: Lucks-san, are you alright...?

Lucks: I just got wet. This sort of thing happens all the time, so it’s no big deal.

Yui: All the time...?

Lucks: You can tell by how the people around us react, no? ...They all walk in a big circle around me. 

They’d rather not get too close to a Ghoul born from polluted air.

Yuma: ...Why not!? You’re no different from us two! That’s just plain discrimination!

Lucks: I’m sure you can only say that because you’re a good guy and we’re old friends.

Most people are ignorant and they fear that they themselves might turn into Ghouls as well if they get too close to us.

Yui: Is that possible...?

Lucks: Haha. If so, I wouldn’t be with you two right now. It’s all just a big misunderstanding.

Also...I guess they’re also just using it as an excuse to justify treating us worse than other species. 

Yuma: ...Why the fuck are ya bein’ discriminated against when ya haven’t done anythin’ wrong? That’s hella unfair.

Lucks: Guess so. But that’s what discrimination is all about, isn’t it? You should know that as well, Bear.

Yuma: ...

...I guess in that regard, humans and Demons are really no different. Bullcrap. 

Selection

→ Let’s resolve the misunderstanding (❦)

Yui: Let’s resolve the misunderstanding. This is...just sad.

Lucks: You really are a nice girl. No wonder Yuma chose you.

Yuma: She’s right. They’re gonna do as they please if ya keep quiet. ...Ya should know that as well, right?

→ It can’t be helped 

Yui: ( I guess this sort of thing happens anywhere. I wonder...if there’s nothing which can be done about it? )

Yuma: ...It’s bullcrap, but no way I’m lettin’ it happen. 

Yuma: Lucks, are ya fine with things stayin’ the way they are?

Didn’t ya tell me back then that all humans are equal and have the right to be free? 

I thought it was yer dream to change that rotten country? 

The current situation...is hardly any different from that. Yet you’re just gonna stand there in silence and watch it all happen!? 

Do ya no longer...give a damn...’bout yer ambition from back then...!? 

Yui: Yuma-kun...

( Yuma-kun has been trying to fulfill his dream this whole time. )

( I’m sure that’s because to him, his Boss...Lucks-san was someone he respected and valued more than anyone else. )

( I believe that’s why it so upsetting for him to see Lucks-san get treated poorly... )

Yuma: What’s yer answer, huh...!? 

Lucks: ...Don’t get the wrong idea, Bear. My dream hasn’t changed one bit.

I still believe that everyone should be equal. That’s why...I’ve chosen to side with Kino.

Yuma: ...The fuck? What do yaーー

Kino: Oh? If it isn’t Yuma!

So the two of you came back, huh? Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here? Is Eden doing okay?

Yui: ...! Kino-kun!

Lucks: Kino. You’re back?

Kino: I returned just now. By the way, I heard you wanted to talk to me, Lucks?

Lucks: Ah, about thatーー

Yuma: I’m yer man. Come with me, we need to talk.

Kino: Ehー? I don’t really mind but safe me any trouble, okay? I’m tired, you see. 

Yuma: Don’t worry. It’ll only take a couple of minutes if ya just fess up the truth already.

Kino: Haah...You should mind your language, you know? It makes your poor upbringing very obvious.

Oh well, I guess it isn’t very comfortable talking in the middle of the street like this. Come with me, I’ll show you the way to my house.

Yuma: ...This isn’t part of a plan to get us to familiar territory so ya can strike, right?

Kino: Who knows? I’m not going to force you to come with me but...There’s something you’d like to ask me, right?

Yuma: ...Che. Ya really know how to piss me off. Fine. I’ll come with ya.

Kino: Fufu. Well then, Lucks, you should join us as well. I’ll ask someone else to do the groceries.

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall at Eden

Ruki: ...

Kou: Ruki-kun. Has Yuma-kun sent us a Familiar...?

Ruki: No. ...Even for Yuma, it is strange for there to be this little communication.

Kou: Then don’t you think that they could be in a situation where it’s impossible for them to contact us? In which case...!

Ruki: ...I suppose we should go look for them after all.

ー Azusa walks up to them

Azusa: Ruki...I went to investigate. It seems like the presence we’ve picked up on as of late are the Adler Clan’s troops after all...

Ruki: Are they close? 

Azusa: Quite, yes...I believe they might be waiting for the right opportunity to strike. 

Ruki: So it’s only a matter of time, huh...? I am worried about those two, but we simply cannot leave Eden right now.

I believe the Castle will be taken down from the second we leave it empty. 

Kou: ...Then what are we going to do!? They could be waiting for our help as we speak!

Ruki: I know. With that in mind...I am trying to think of a solution. 

Azusa: I guess us three just can’t handle it all on our own...

Ruki: Kuh...

Familiar: Ruki-sama, big news! That man...He has come here to Eden!

Ruki: That manーー ...? 

Monologue

Even while Kino-kun was showing us the way,

back to his manor, Yuma-kun and I,

witnessed various instances of Ghouls suffering from discrimination (差別)

Many people would stare at Lucks-san,

giving him nasty (罵り) looks,

even more so than they would at a human like myself. 

And the person who seemed pained by this whole situation,

more than anyone else

was Yuma-kun after all...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[moviemunchies]

After the critical and popular acclaim of The Dark Knight, a movie beloved by just about everyone I knew at that time, we all wondered how Christopher Nolan would follow up in the next Batman movie.

The result, The Dark Knight Rises, was a bit divisive.

Eight years after Joker’s reign of terror, Batman is still blamed for Harvey Dent’s crimes and death,, with the Dent Act having cleaned up Gotham’s streets. Batman’s gone, since he’s supposedly won, and Bruce Wayne is a recluse. But the terrorist leader Bane, an expelled member of the League of Shadows, comes to Gotham with a plan to take over Wayne Industries’ energy project, turn it into a bomb, and eventually destroy the city, cutting it off from the rest of the country and causing the violent overthrow of society.

And Batman can’t do anything to stop him.

We’ll talk about some spoilers in this review. I don’t  know if anyone cares, because this movie’s a decade old; I thought I’d throw that out there, anyway.

When it’s remembered at all, other than memes of Bane’s voice (no really, the Harley Quinn show uses it), it’s generally considered as the worst of the Nolan Batman films. And I think that’s true, but it’s a high bar, and the movie has a lot going for it. It’s more thoughtful than most superhero movies today, for sure–though that doesn’t mean all of these thoughts always work when expressed on screen.

Shortly after re-watching this movie, I saw Chris Stuckmann’s recent video on the film, and he brings up an idea that has made me think. He talks about how, in the previous movie, the Joker makes the assertion that once you get rid of the rules of society, people will tear each other apart–and what we see in this film is Gotham City tear itself apart (or at least, some of it–we don’t see much of what the average people are doing) once Bane brings down the ruling institutions. It makes me wonder. There were rumors that if Heath Ledger hadn’t died, the Joker would have played a role in this movie. And so I’m really, really curious and imagining an incredibly ambitious film that ties together both the League of Shadows storyline and the anarchy of the Joker. I’d like to think it would blow us all out of the water.

We didn’t get that though.

There are some baffling things in this movie. Bane’s voice has grown on me, but re-watching it’s annoying that the third act has two or three instances of Bruce Wayne/Batman just… appearing where he needs to be. I’m not asking for a full scene of how he got from the Pit to Gotham, I just want a throwaway line or something. I suspect that the film loses track of its characters. Miranda Tate/Talia is an example of this–at the trial scene, Bane asks her to be brought to him, and then she’s with the captives that Bruce sees when he pretends to be captured, and then later he asks where she is. Despite that he has no reason to think she’s anywhere other than where he left her. But she’s not, she’s with Bane again.

Actually, we should talk about Talia and her role in the movie. It’s fine, in theory, I guess–

[Waitwaitwait hang on! What do you mean, child Talia is played by Joey King in the flashbacks?!]

–but there’s so much work missing. We’re meant to believe that Bruce is falling for her, I think? They don’t have enough meaningful interactions for me to think that Bruce has reason to feel particularly attached to her, but after he goes broke he lets her into his mansion and has sex with her. Why? Well, so it’s a twist when it turns out that it’s Talia, and she wanted to kill him the entire time. Since her relationship with Bruce also comes out of nowhere though, it seemed as if the character only exists to make Plot Twists instead of being developed as a real person in the narrative.

Selina Kyle is an interesting character, and I appreciate her character arc here more. I don’t know if running off with Bruce is the best ending, as again, I don’t know if there’s enough work put into that romance; though unlike with Talia, but I can actually see that these two are attracted to each other, and actually grow more attached to the other as the story goes on.

[Side note that might be a Hot Take: does anyone ship Bruce/Batman with Talia? Other than Ra’s al Ghul?]

Upon re-watch, I found Selina’s character arc in this movie much more interesting. She’s someone who, over the course of the film, realizes how her selfishness has led to absolutely terrible consequences. I like that.

The fight scenes in this movie are… eh? They’re not good. I complained about it in the last movie; they’re worse here. Nolan is less interested in that aspect of action movies, I think. There are bits that are alright, but overall, it is miles behind every other superhero movie in this regard, which is a shame because this is Batman. Batman is supposed to be one of the greatest fictional martial artists of all time, and Nolan put together a very basic style for him, which is at its worst in this movie. Disappointing.

One of the most discussed aspects of the film is Bane’s rhetoric. Many took issue with how and his forces are presented. Bane gives several speeches about liberating Gotham’s people from corrupt elites, and yet he’s the villain, instead of a revolutionary hero. I’ve talked about this before, but these comments miss the point of Bane: he’s not a revolutionary. He’s a terrorist. He’s happy, like so many real-life villains, to use rhetoric about helping people get what they want or deserve in order to gain public support only to use that support for his own ends. He does not care about the liberation of Gotham’s people, he wants to blow them up because he thinks they’re beyond redemption.

Now, one could argue that the delivery of all of this is awkwardly done, or could have been done better, and I’ll accept that argument. But so often it seems like a lot of people seem baffled at the idea that villains convincingly lie to people sometimes to get what they want, or that benevolent ideology can be used as a cover for nefarious purposes. They’ve clearly never watched anything in pop culture as a religious person, I think. Look, maybe this is more right-wing than most Hollywood films now, but that’s a low bar, and as critic Jonathtan Chait put it, the movie only “submits the rather modest premise that, irritating though the rich may be, actually killing them and taking all their stuff might be excessive.” Some people find that too extremist, I guess.

The actual inspirations for the film are quite obviously the French Revolution and Tale of Two Cities, and I sort of like the idea of this story. Gotham is a mess, and horribly corrupt, even when they do get the crime off of the streets (even though the Dent Act is not how city laws work!), and so it requires fixing that corruption before things actually get set right. 

I remember some doofus on Tumblr (the same one who was like, “Joker says he doesn’t have a plan but totally does! Gotcha, Nolan fans!”) who argued that the ending of The Dark Knight was ProBleMAtiC because it involves people believing a lie for the sake of the Greater Good–welp, this movie exists! And it shows that, yeah, that’s actually a massive problem! Let’s deal with that!

No, it’s not the best ending we could have gotten to this trilogy. But I don’t think it’s bad–I think it’s pretty good. It just isn’t up to the high standards of the previous film–which is pretty darn high! I think maybe it required a couple more editorial looks before completion. Still, I enjoyed this movie! Even though it’s the weakest link in the Nolan Batman trilogy.

[maeriiberii]

Interesting tidbits about Merry, and a couple about the future she lives in, from the Old Adam Bar short story that live rent-free in my head: (under the cut because long)

These snippets regarding alcohol:

“New-style liquor is what's commonly and widely drunk; it's designed so that you can't get horribly drunk from it. The chance of becoming dependent on it is low, and it's relatively harmless to the body. Old-style liquor is the kind that's been drunk since a long time ago, made by natural yeasts. Most such liquors include alcohol, but none contain enzymes or such things that help break down the alcohol. You drink it, you get sloshed.“

"Because this is an old-style liquor bar, I suppose... But with this, you can get more drunk than with usual, cheap liquor." "Hm, I wonder if you can actually get drunk and stay healthy at the same time." "Healthy? Reeeaally think about it. Liquor, oil, salt, sugar, caffeine, gluten... we're actually overly conscious of eating healthily, even though medicine has advanced so much that people won't actually die easily nowadays. Rather it's because of that that planned life expectancy is being put into effect, no? Like this you can't tell if society wants to keep people alive or to kill them, can you? People who spend so much to drink old-liquor are just realists."

This rumor regarding snakes on Mount Miwa:

“Snakes. Snakes! A giant mass of them, all squirming around... I figure they can't do anything about them, since snakes are one of Mount Miwa's gods and all. Just what could they be eating for there to be so many of them there? I'll bet you it's got nothing to do with how Nara prefecture's lifespan regulations are proceeding the smoothest in the country...“

Drunk Merry is apparently bashful, and Renko is a dunce.

"This'll probably sound rude, but we're watching a bunch of grown adults tell stories in this bar like it's a secret clubhouse..." "My, really? You're going to be sharing your story afterwards too, Merry." "Augh. I knew this was coming..." Merry knew that her own mysterious experiences were undoubtedly truth. However, she was somehow unable to believe these other extravagant stories. They just seemed like they were trying to con people. She briefly wondered why Renko believed her accounts. 'It must be because I'm such a good storyteller, after all,' Merry thought bashfully. "---Faith in hair has been around since ancient times, just like with snakes. Regeneration's got to have some involvement in the processes of human faith, huh?" Apparently Renko believed nearly everyone's stories.

This Neat Trick Merry Has Learned With Her Abilities:

Renko took out a hand mirror and passed it to Merry, who showed it to each person in turn. Thanks to Merry's ability, that same mirror began displaying the scenery of those other worlds.

The entire ending scene and confirmation that Merry Can Tell If You Are Lying To Her:

"How'd it go?" "Mmm. About half of the stories were just made-up." "It went really well, though. My plan to have you show each of them the other side of the barrier through the mirror, and at the same time make contact with them to figure out if they really had been to another world." Merry was deeply impressed by how Renko had come up with all that on the spot. Yes, Renko truly was intelligent and a quick thinker. "The stories about the snakes and hair cult were true, by the way." "Really? I knew it! Those two stories weren't told anywhere near skillfully enough to be lies. It's decided, then!" "What is?" "What do you mean, what? We're headed to Mount Miwa!" Merry, still hung over from the old-style liquor, immediately refused.

tl;dr, in conclusion:

Medicine and food science advancing so much that they’ve fundamentally changed the natural diets of the human population into ‘healthier’ synthetic parallels really puts into perspective exactly what sort of food culture she comes from, and what exactly she experiences with her sense of taste and how it differs to what we ourselves are used to. Also confirmation that Merry is so unused to Actual Alcohol that she can’t even handle hard cider.

If alcohol loosens one’s inhibitions, then Drunk Merry’s thoughts regarding Renko are probably her most pure of heart, honest, and true feelings... and if you’re drunkenly having bashful thoughts about why your partner in crime wholeheartedly believes you no matter what bullshit you tell her doesn’t read as gay, then i don’t know what does.

Seriously the sheer adoration in this girl’s thoughts and introspection regarding Renko. Girl. You are crushing hard.

Confirmed Weird Shit in ‘The Real World’ regarding a hidden mass of snakes on Mount MIwa and a hair cult of all things, huh?

What the hell is this about lifespan regulations and planned lifespan expectancy that are mentioned and then never elaborated on?

[jackiestarsister]

Reactions while re-watching Willow: Episode 1 “The Gales”

Warning: Spoilers ahead (not just for the episode but the whole season).

~ Like a lot of series, the first episode is a bit clunky, as it tries to introduce and endear several characters in quick succession. But what’s interesting is seeing how they all start out disparate, then end up united with a common goal.

~ Even though we only see Sorsha, Kit, and Airk together for a couple scenes, a lot can be unpacked about their family dynamics. Airk probably turns to romantic relationships because his family doesn’t take him seriously and he doesn’t have a clear sense of purpose. It’s possible that Kit wants to leave her family before they can leave her.

~ From his very first scene, Boorman demonstrates his tendency speculate what other people are thinking about, particularly the feelings they don’t want to admit and thoughts they don’t want to articulate themselves. Even before he does this for the “questers,” he does it with Sorsha.  With the others, he tries to be a sort of confidante, even when they don’t want him to be; but Sorsha is so alone, he she may actually want him for that role.

~ Airk telling Kit that Graydon isn’t so bad and that she “should get to know him” is subtle foreshadowing, because it comes true; but his telling her “I’m not going anywhere” is not-so-subtle foreshadowing that he is about to.

~ The “refusal of the call” story beat is kind of subverted. Kit tries to run away from her arranged marriage, but that actually seems like what Joseph Campbell described as rejecting society’s expectations, which he frames as a good thing. Her attempt is interrupted by the intervention of fate that sends her on her true quest.

~ I wonder about the Gales’ name. The way Willow tried to warn Sorsha of their coming makes me wonder if they’re an allusion to “the winds of change.”

~ Why did the Gales only take Airk? Why not Kit and/or Sorsha, since they are also the Blood of the Six?

~ What did Sorsha mean by “We have enemies without and within”? Was she talking about the internal struggle that Kit, Airk, and Elora would face?

~ The departure of the rescue party feels rushed. A lot is packed into a few very short clips. Ballantine’s last words to Jade, “A knight is defined not by their skill in battle, but by the oaths they keep,” should have been given more time and weight.

~ The fact that Graydon was the one who said “You think we’re gonna die? I wish someone told me. I’m really scared of dying,” hits differently after the finale.

~ Graydon only gets to play a few notes on his flute before Kit interrupts, but I think they were the notes of the quest theme!

~ After an apparent jump in time during the campout, Kit starts out sitting apart from the group, and her reaction is shown when Jade talks about her family’s fate. Then Kit comes back to squeeze Jade’s shoulder and sit at her side.

~ The visuals of the landscapes and the Mothers’ Gate are gorgeous.

~ Are the two figures at the top of the stone gate supposed to be Cherlindrea and Fin Raziel?

~ Based on what Sorsha and King Hastur discussed about border skirmishes (his denial was pretty suspicious) and what the group finds at the abandoned gate, it seems the Gales have been pretty busy even before the abduction.

~ Who wrote the words written in (blood?) red? The victims or the attackers? The words themselves seem descriptive of what the characters experience at the end of the season, but it seems particularly significant that Graydon was the one to read them out loud; maybe he fulfills it most of all, as the one who remains with the Wyrm at the very end.

~ The way Elora touches and passes through the barrier is kind of like Steven Universe realizing he can get through the forcefield in the gem prison. I’m guessing she was able to do that because she has magic, just as Steven was able to because he was half-human.

~ Kit starts protecting Elora in the very first episode, when the Bone Reavers attack them

~ Why is Jørgen Kase (played by Simon Armstrong) never mentioned after his death? Why is the rest of the team not more disturbed by the fact that their appointed leader has been killed? If he and Airk have a father-son kind of relationship, as he said, then how does Airk eventually take the news?

~ The fact that everyone followed Boorman off the cliff when he didn’t even mean to do so ... kind of reminds me of Obi-Wan’s question in A New Hope: “Who’s more foolish, the fool or the one who follows him?”

~ “One day you and I are going to be in charge, and when we are, we don’t have to do things the way our parents did.” That sounds like a whole thesis, and one that this generation may need to be reminded of. Then again, it may be something that every generation wants to be true.

~ When everyone else is reacting to Willow’s revelation of Elora with awe, Kit has this super subtle but completely in-character reaction: her eye twitches and she seems to be seething. She is furious to find out that this person she already so thoroughly disliked is also the one she resented for taking her father away, and that someone who seems useless in terms of their quest is the one that everyone else has been waiting to hail as a savior. Awesome acting on Ruby Cruz’s part.

[aeoki]

Magic Lantern - Monument: Chapter 1

Location: Break Room Characters: Sora & Tsumugi

< The next day. >

Sora: …………

(Sora supposes… Subaru-paisen is right?)

(Sora does feel like we’re all going in circles~)

(We’re circling the same spot, getting rid of the obstacles, gaining experience and we’re all becoming stronger.)

(But the distance between us is still the same – it’s still a sad distance.)

Why is this happening, Senpai? We –“Switch” – should definitely be heading in a good direction, right?

“............”

Why is this happening, Master~? We’re all nice and get along just fine – our performances are a huge success too. Why are we left with such an empty feeling?

“............”

There’s no point in asking dolls. There’s no way Sora’s “imaginary friends” would know something that Sora doesn’t know.

Tsumugi: “HaHa~♪ That’s not true, Sora-kun!”

Sora: Woah!?

Tsumugi: I think everyone needs to wonder to themselves every once in a while.

If I said that’s the reason why I left you by yourself… that would be a very cruel sophism.

“HiHi~! You’re right! You rotten heretic! You’re always the prepertrator!”

Sora: …Senpai, is that supposed to be Sora? It doesn’t sound like Sora at all~

Tsumugi: It’s difficult to copy the way you speak, Sora-kun. They do say it’s easier to imitate someone if they’re distinctive and stands out, though.

I don’t have the skills for it… I’ve never been good at anything in the first place, anyway.

Sora: HaHa~♪ Senpai, you’re amazing because even though you’re not good at anything, you work hard and end up being able to do everything~

Tsumugi: Ahaha. Sora-kun, you tend to compliment us and see things on the bright side no matter what we do, don’t you?

Sora: It’s because Senpai and Master~ do the same for Sora? In that sense, Sora is just copying what you two do!

Tsumugi: Hmm. I do think it can be problematic if you continue to only see the good sides of others, though. Humans aren’t without dirty or ugly parts to them, after all. 

You probably also have “that part of you”, but we just can’t see it yet.

Sora: ………?

Anyway, Senpai, did you need to talk to Sora about something? Sora doesn’t have anything on today, so Sora would be happy if you can hang out with Sora~

Tsumugi: Hmm~ It’s nothing important. We kinda went home feeling a bit odd yesterday, right? I figured I shouldn’t let that continue to stew.

Sora: Odd? Sora thinks everything was the same as usual, though~?

Tsumugi: Hehe. I wonder if being odd has turned into what’s “usual” for us.

But I don’t think we should treat this unhappy feeling as something that’s commonplace.

I can’t really explain it, but the way things are remind me of how things used to be. We think we’re winning, succeeding and moving forward…

But I think we’re going back to when we were ultimately left behind in the darkness.

Sora: …………

Tsumugi: Oh, Sora-kun. Why are you hugging me? You’re quite the baby, aren’t you?

Sora: Because it felt like you’d disappear, Senpai.

Tsumugi: Hehe. I’m not going anywhere~ I’m surprisingly tenacious, you know? Maybe it’s because I look weak and unreliable so no one believes me, though.

…W-Whaa?

Sora: Woah? Senpai, something shook just now, right~? Was that magic that makes the ground rumble?

Tsumugi: It’s just the vibration from a smartphone.

Hmm~ I wonder if the office wants my help with something again. I wanted to have a long talk with you, so I finished all the work I had.

But being a member of society is a lot of work. I’m still on the clock, so I shouldn’t be wasting time here – I should get back to the office.

Sora: Ah, then please go back! We can talk whenever and Sora’s fine! Senpai should prioritise work, right?

Tsumugi: I suppose so~ I’m getting paid by the hour so I shouldn’t ditch my duties.

Everyone says we should prioritise kindness and sympathy over work, but people can only give such carefree opinions because someone else is frantically working to balance the social foundation…

Hm?

Sora: ? What’s wrong, Senpai?

Tsumugi: Nothing – It’s just that I was called to go to a rather unexpected place. The sender of the message is also…

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[hekate1308]

Leaves That Before The Wild Hurricane Fly, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 19

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

It didn’t take long for Crowley to answer. Dean read the text and blushed – the sight was just as amazing as the first time it had happened, as a matter of fact, Castiel would have claimed that it just grew more enchanting as time went on  - and then announced, ”Crowley says to keep you here until he comes to talk to us”.

That was easy enough in itself, especially because Andrea dropped by later to see how things were going. When he told her about Crowley as Dean was serving yet another customer – the shop really was going well, and it couldn’t just be that he worked in the Quarter and the creatures had no choice, no, it was the service and Dean himself, undoubtedly – she pursed her lips. By now, Cas had learned that they were able to hide their fangs unless they were very hungry. “If there is something fishy going on, Crowley is the best to find out.”

“That’s what Dean said.”

“And, really, we’ll come up with a plan – again if there is anything, which we don’t know at the moment.”

He nodded.

“But you think there is, don’t you.”

“I know Raphael, that’s all.”

It was her turn to nod. “Bosses can be… difficult. It’s why most of us are self-employed to be honest – plenty of personalities to crash around.”

“I wanted to be a writer” Castiel said, which wouldn’t be news to her, since they had already talked about it at dinner several times, and Dean was bragging about what he got up to in his shop. “But well – my partner at the time said that I couldn’t live from it, and that I should have a leg to stand on. He was right in that regard, but I just never… I just kept working there, and I never really liked it, to be honest.” It had been happening more and more, Castiel being open with his new friends in a way he had never really been with anyone in his life before. And it wasn’t just that – it was that he wasn’t accustomed to being listened to, either. Ishim had always insisted that they talk about their day, and then had ended up talking only about himself.

But Dean and the others… they’d ask Castiel to speak, and then they would sit there, taking in his words, and eventually responding once he had finished. He was starting to suspect that this shouldn’t be new to him, that this is how things should work, but somehow, they never had for him, before.

“There’s another reason why I am worried. I – I’ve been doing my research. Talking to professors, other reporters, that sort of thing, and creatures and witches just have a bad reputation for no reason at all –“

“For several reasons, Cas. Don’t pretend we’re all like Dean or Benny. That’s not how it works.”

“Yes, well, but even those who called themselves experts despite never having spoken to a creature in their life claim there is “cause for concern” even though when pressed they can’t even tell you a proper reason. It’s all just hearsay and fairy tales and legends and…” he stopped panting when he realized he was talking himself into a frenzy. “I just – I don’t want to be part of that.”

And as he said it, he couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t just mean that – he meant – yes, he meant his job and this sort of society as a whole. He felt more at home in the Quarter than he ever had anywhere else, and of course…

He glanced at Dean. He couldn’t help it.

“I understand that, and of course you’re upset, but you can’t already take the blame for something that hasn’t happened yet. If we did that… let’s just say, divination and scrying would be even more complicated than they already are. There’s a reason most of us stay away from it.”

He had had no experiences with anyone who tried things like this so far, and he probably shouldn’t wonder about it, since of even Crowley didn’t dabble with divination, it was probably the best idea to stay away from it altogether, as most people seemed to do.

People. Yes. He had just thought of them as people because in the end that was what they were – people, with magic and other peculiarities, but still.

He glanced at Dean once more.

No matter what happened, this was where he felt like he belonged, and he would do his outmost to make sure nothing bad occurred to the friends he had found. Afterwards they could shun him and send him back to where he had come from, but right now, he had other priorities.

“Everything will be fine, Cas, you’ll see” Andrea promised. He only wished he could be certain she could keep it.

[tohokuu]

toman and struggling to put jeans on

playing : body remix by tion wayne

warnings : none, suggestive in drakens and mitsuyas. 

also very self indulgent because dear writer has a phat ass that society can’t handle. 

1000 words

draken, baji & mitsuya 

draken.

draken laughed at your struggling form. you were hunched over trying to pull the hem of your pants over your thighs. it was irritating; being unable to find jeans that would fit you correctly. you swore they fit fine and snug once they were above your waist but this current step was a struggle.

“ken, quit laughing.” you yelled. it only caused him to laugh harder. he was now recording you, his phone capturing all the curves of your thighs and ass. you whined and eventually gave up. kicking the pants off and going to kens drawer. “hey, what do ya think yer doin’?” he said. you pulled out one of his clean black boxers and swung them on. they were so comfortable, and fit your ass and thighs just right. 

“okay, lets go now. i’ll just wear one of your shirts so no one can see that i’m wearing your boxers.” you gleamed. you turned to grab one of his oversized shirts but he stopped you before you could. “oi oi oi, yer not goin’ anywhere dressed like that.” pulling you towards the bed, he sat on the edge. you stood in front of the tall, bulky male, unable to guess what he was trying to do. 

draken grabbed the jeans off the floor and held them open so you could step into them. “come on, i’ll make ‘em fit.” he said. you whined as you stepped into the jeans. draken pulled them up as far as they could go, just stopping at your upper thighs. he turned you around, grabbing a handful of your ass. “oi- draken what do you think you’re doing ??” you protested.

“ ‘m makin’ yer jeans fit, y/n” he defended. he pulled you close, caged into his arm while one hand worked the jeans up and the other felt up your thighs and ass. your face was hot, how could it not be ? his intention wasn’t lewd per se, but his actions made you want to rub your thighs together. you didn’t even notice when the hem was pulled over your ass. you didn’t even notice when ken turned you around to button up your jeans at the waist. 

he kissed your stomach lightly and then slapped your ass. “okay, we’re all done. you can wear my black shirt with the stripe on it, if ya want.” however, you were too shaken up to respond. “y/n, you good ?” he asked. 

“y-yeah, ‘s nothing.” you responded, eyes staring directly into his. he gave you a knowing smirk and a soft chuckle. smacking your ass once again, hard, as he walked away to go grab a shirt for you. 

baji.

“y/n, get down here. come on, we’re already late.” baji yelled. you huffed in irritation, “baji, shut the fuck up.” perhaps you sounded a little mean, but these jeans would be the death of you. they had always fit before, what happened now ? “why are you so ma- oh.” baji said as he walked in. he gave you a head tilt and a questioning look, then just burst out laughing. his deep laughter bellowed through his chest and into the room. 

it was a beautiful sound but you did not need to hear it right now. “baji, this isn’t fuckin funny.” you gasped. he pulled his phone out and clicked a photo of you with your jeans around your thighs, a deadpan stare and flipping him off. “gonna set it as my homescreen.” he said. “i would smack the fuck out of you right now, but i don’t want to trip.” you said, flatly. 

“pftt, shut it. i got some spare sweatpants that i ordered and they were a little small. ya want ‘em ?” he said with an excited grin. you nodded immediately. “say please.” he said. “you have a lot of fucking audacity, baji keisuke. this is why cats stopped coming to your window and go to chifuyu’s instead.” 

he gasped in shock, placing a hand on his chest. “they still come to my window !” he yelled. “oh really, go call peke j right now.” 

safe to say, you never got to wear your jeans and peke j never came to baji’s window. also, you never even made it out of the house. mikey, draken and everyone else wondered where the fuck you two were the whole night. 

mitsuya.

“love, my jeans won’t fit.” you cried. your old pair of jeans that always seemed to fit you was now causing problems. it had always fit perfectly before, but now they couldn’t even go past your upper thighs. your flesh was red from where the jeans had squeezed and you were on the verge of tears from pure frustration.

 mitsuya came over and inspected the pair of pants that were sitting around your thighs. he looked at them and pulled, trying to get a grasp of what was wrong. it didn’t take long for mitsuya to identify the problem. “hm, do you want me to loosen the hips a bit ?” he offered. you nodded, taking them off and handing them to him. he disappeared into the back room and you followed, watching him take a sharp tool and tear the seams around the hips. “is it tight over here ?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower thighs. you shook your head. “no, it’s just my upper thighs and well uhm.. my ass.” you said quietly. 

mitsuya nodded but you could catch the faint blush on his cheek and the soft smile that graced his lips. he took measuring tape and measured the circumference of your thighs, pulling you oddly close to his face. if he turned to to the right just a bit, he would be face to face with your now throbbing cunt. his face burned but he quickly took measure and pulled away. quickly pulling out fabric that seemed to match your jeans, he cut them into diamonds. 

then placed each of the diamonds on the now-open seams of the jeans. it wasn’t much complicated after that. he sewed the extra fabric in and handed the jeans back to you. “here, tell me if anything wrong.” he said. 

the tension in the air still seamed to be apparent. he stared intensely as you pulled the jeans on, easily this time. they fit perfect and they only seemed to accentuate your ass and thighs. mitsuya sucked in a deep breath, grabbing you and pulling you in by the belt loops. 

“i think going out can wait.” 

[blooberrries]

「 extemporaneous 」 — intro ☾

— pairing: multi; shoto x reader, izuku x reader

— genre/tags: hybrid au, slow burn-ish, reverse harem, AGED-UP CHARACTERS - all characters represented are over the age of 18 in this fic.

— wc: 1k

— rated: sfw

— notes: I named you 'Yona', because it kind of sounds like what I hear in my head when I read 'y/n'. literally just mush the sounds together when i read it lol.

You've never really had much to do with hybrids, existing in your own little bubble for a majority of your life.

That comes to an end when your friend phones you for help and somehow you end up taking two hybrids off of her hands while they recuperate in the wake of an unfortunate incident.

But when the time comes that they have to leave, will you really want them to go?

masterlist || next⟶

The world that you inhabit is far from perfect.

Of course, you’re not particularly special or unique for knowing this. It’s common knowledge for any who care to observe their surroundings. Money has always and will always be able to buy anything, which is something that has become painfully apparent in the last few decades. Science has advanced so far that venturing into space commercially is not longer a pipe dream, though such advances aren’t exactly a linear process. In this ever-evolving world, there are a number of manmade miracles that have made headlines in the past few decades.

Of course, along with miracles of scientific origin come the patents, the promotion, and the mass production for the consumption of your every day citizens. No achievement lasts long before being perverted for the masses.

Animal-human hybrids are one such miracle.

It’s something that a bunch of people in coats who liked to play god always wondered if they could achieve, but never stopped to consider if they should. Once it happened, it was too late to take back and it really just snowballed from there.

Nowadays, hybrids are available to adopt for even those of the middle class.

You’re not someone with a strong love or distaste towards hybrids. They’re kind of just… there, a part of life. You can’t say you agree with the conditions of their existence, though.

Paradoxical and bordering on inhumane, society tends to crave their presence while simultaneously outright rejecting it. To be regarded as anything more than an animal, they must be ‘owned’. To venture outside and be seen by the public, they must be collared. Of course, there are movements that exist and work towards changing all of that, but it is hard to pry toys from the hands of the rich once they have a firm grip.

You could go on, but it’s not exactly a topic that leaves a nice taste in your mouth.

One might be wondering, if you don’t like thinking or talking about it, then what exactly prompted this heavy inner monologue?

Well, that would be your friend, who is currently on the phone and hasn’t stopped to breathe for what you think has been at least three minutes.

“We’re completely overrun,” she says, deciding not to mince her words. “We were already close to capacity before, but now I have no idea where we are going to put all of the hybrids that are coming in after that shitshow.”

Ah yes, shitshow indeed. You’d caught a glimpse of it on the news, and had wondered whether your friend would be negatively affected as a result.

“Don’t you have partner establishments? Sister locations? I thought your shelter was pretty renowned in the area.” You stir your food as you speak, browning the mince in the pan and spreading the spices that you’d thrown in earlier with a wooden spatula so they disperse evenly over the meat.

“It is,” you friend huffs, finally taking a breath. “Which is why everyone thought to send them to us.”

You hum in response, but apparently she wasn’t done speaking yet.

“I’m serious, Yona. I don’t know what to do. A lot of these hybrids are injured and need somewhere to stay where they will actually receive care and have their needs met. You saw all of those scandals in the news recently — there isn’t anywhere we can trust.”

“Why not have some of your employees foster them for a while?” you ask, wrangling with a sauce jar in an attempt to get the lid off with one hand. You nearly drop it twice before deciding that you will just have to complete the task when you’re off the phone.

“Already thought of that,” she says, something changing in her tone that makes you freeze in apprehension. “And they’ve all taken back as many as they can, but there are still a few that don’t have anywhere to go. Which brings me to the reason why I called…”

You feel resignation setting in before she even finishes the sentence. You might be detached from the realm of hybrids and their struggles, but that doesn’t mean you’re not human and can turn a blind eye to a problem when it is literally shoving itself in your face.

Besides, you’ve always had a hard time saying no to Nejire.

//

The rest of the conversation went exactly how you’d expect, and now the very next day you’re putting in the finishing touches and tidying up your spare room, before Nejire arrives.

… Bringing with her not one, but two hybrids you’ve been charged with housing and caring for, for an indefinite amount of time.

You feel as though you might have gotten in a little over your head.

You’ve had remarkably little time to prepare since the phone call ended yesterday. You hadn’t even realised that you’d agreed to her whims until you came to your senses standing in the kitchen, phone still against your ear and dialtone beeping. You’d almost burnt your food you’d been so distracted.

It would have helped if Nejire had at least told you something — anything — about who you’re fostering and what they will need from you. However, you understand that she doesn’t exactly have the brain space considering what she is dealing with right now, between finding space in the shelter and organising her staff.

At least she sent you a pamphlet on how to care for whatever wounds they might show up with.

You feel a bit like a headless chicken as you run around your apartment, having woken up later than expected and then laid in bed on your phone for a while before remembering your last minute commitment and springing up. What happened next you can only really describe as a cleaning frenzy, because although your home wasn’t a pigsty, it was definitely a little out of order.

Wrong day to sleep in.

You’d only just finished putting the first load of scattered washing into the dryer when the electronic jingle of your doorbell rings through the apartment. Nerves tingle in your belly as you slam the door shut and turn the machine on, lest you forget and leave it for the rest of the day. Trying to keep your face neutral, you make your way to the front door.

“Coming!”

masterlist || next⟶

[bluebellhairpin]

Not Jealous

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: So I worked on this instead of like, five other things that people want but hey - gal’s gotta have her vices. - Nemo

Summary: Even after years of fancy gatherings, Bruce wants nothing more than to give in to his introvert nature and run away from them. You however, have taught him that after sticking it out, they might not be so bad. 

Warnings: Flirting. Bruce get’s jealous but not really ‘cause Batman doesn’t get jealous. Reader has she/her pronouns and is referred to as uh ‘wife’ multiple times. 

Listening to: ‘Can’t Take My Eye’s Off You’ by Frankie Valli - ‘Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare... You're just too good to be true.’ 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist  

Gala’s were something that Bruce never really liked. 

As Bruce Wayne - the billionaire, playboy, golden child, Prince of Gotham - he couldn’t get to enough of them. 

As Batman - the brooding, ‘I work alone but not really’, Protector of Gotham - he avoided them at all costs. 

But as himself - the friend, father, husband, Bruce - his thoughts on such events could only be described as apathetic. 

Over the years he grew a very nice façade to hide how he truly felt. After the entrance of his wife, and then each child that followed, it became easier to fake, and he did have to admit they became a little more enjoyable with proper company anyway. 

Of course, the first time he saw she who would be his wife at one of these events, she was hanging off the arm of some blond, tanned, rich member of high society. From his knowledge and meetings with her on the streets she wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying it as much as she looked like she was. 

Turns out she was one great faker too. 

Over the course of the past seventeen-ish years, Bruce got to know the various ways you dealt with these gala’s. 

While he was tempted with the recluse lifestyle everyday, you managed to get him out of the house when it was needed. Even if it was a big house, he still needed to get out of it sometimes. 

With the outings you used to force him on, he was able to learn a thing or two from you. You weren’t born into wealth like he was, and you never had it until you married him, but you took to it like a fish to water. Well, the avoiding attention part anyway. In fact, when it came to going to gala’s with you, he was surprised at how little attention you drew when you didn’t want it. 

The first time you went as a couple, and then again as a married couple, were the worst as far as being left alone went, and he did expect it. Newspapers craved that sort of thing. 

After that, when it was just him and you, the most you were asked of was the journey between the car and the front door thanks to the press and media - once inside you could sulk away to a corner or table, get up for a dance or two, loiter at the bar and then go home without anymore than a half dozen people approaching. Those were very good nights for Bruce, mainly because on those nights he’d rather be anywhere else. 

As if he didn’t feel that way about them anyway. 

But lately your trick of not gaining attention at the gala’s wasn’t working anymore. It wasn’t that people were noticing him again, no it was because they were noticing you. 

Namely someone kept noticing you. 

“You both have never looked more alike.” 

Tim slid into a set opposite Bruce and Damian. Bruce had a crystal tumbler filled with ginger ale pressed to his lips, unmoving as his eyes locked onto where you stood across the room. Damian was in the exact same position, whether knowingly or not, and was sending a glare towards the man who was looking far too happy about talking to you. 

“We are kind of literally related, Tim.” Bruce mumbled, sipping his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.

“He’s too close.” Damian whispered.

“I know.” 

“She could get uncomfortable soon.”

“I know.”

“If it bothers you so much then either of you could go over there and whisk her away.” Tim said, shaking his head a little. “Bruce could pull out his charisma, or the gremlin could pretend to ask for a dance with his mother all cute and mother-son-like.”

Damian switched his glare over to Tim.

“Why don’t you go and fix it since you’re so smart?”

“‘Cause it’s not bothering me as much as it is you.” Tim laughed. Bruce looked between his two sons, then up to where you and the man were talking. “She can handle herself. Plus he’s way below her league anyway, if she doesn’t know that then something’s wrong.” 

“You don’t think Ummi’s being mind controlled right now, do you?” Damian asked, sitting straighter and squinting a little. “We should go home and -”

Bruce stood, patting Damian’s shoulder as he pushed his chair back in, and then strode over to your side. 

As usual, you noticed his approach with barely having to look, and reached out an arm as he pressed his side to yours. His arm wound it’s way around your waist, and he offered his free hand to the man whose conversation he probably just ruined. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” he said, lips tight in one of the best and believable fake smiles he’s put on in his entire life. 

“Henry Syrus.” The man said, stepping to match Bruce’s fake pleasantries with his own, “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your darling wife about the art pieces here. 

“Next time you should compare novelty keychains.” Bruce’s voice was light, but you could tell there was a little something underneath. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take her away for a dance before the night dies down too much.” 

So without another word, Bruce swept you away and onto the dancefloor with the hoard of other swaying couples. 

“You need to practice that.” 

“Practice what?” he asked, looking down at you as his fingers intertwined with yours. 

“The ‘I’m taking my wife away from someone who makes me feel like they’re making her feel weird’ thing you just pulled.” you said, a small smile twitching onto your features from your lips up to your eyes - your first genuine smile of the night - and Bruce was proud to think it was because of him. 

“I did that?” he mused, feigning thought for a moment, “I don’t think I did.” 

“Well you weren’t jealous. Everyone - including you! - says Bruce Wayne does not get jealous.” Bruce spun you away, and then back closer to him again. Closer than before. 

“I don’t need to get jealous, I know you can’t resist me.” he mumbled against your ear, then pressed a kiss to your cheekbone before leaning back some again. “That’s why you keep sticking around.”

“I thought I stuck around because you’re filthy rich and never at home, so that I have the place to do as I please.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, chuckling, “Now you’re really teasing me.” 

“I’m just getting started.” you said, a sly glint in your eye that made his arm around you tighten. 

“Oh? Dare I ask what else you have in store?” he replied, preparing to meet whatever you came up with. You hummed at him, surveying the room and fellow dancers before looking back up at him again.

“I’m gonna take you home, pull you into our bedroom, and take you out of this monkey suit -”

“- it’s a tux, not a suit -”

“- I’m going to take you out of this tuxedo,” you corrected, tugging on his tie as he smiled down at you, “And then we’re gonna sleep for twelve. Whole. Hours.” He groaned. 

“You love me so much. You know exactly what to say. You treat me so well.” 

“I know.” you said, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but press his lips to yours in something a little longer than a peck, and you hummed again. “Now you’re making Henry jealous with all the faces you’re making.” 

“How can you tell, you can’t see him?” he asked. Looking over, he was able to see that, yes, the man you were with before wasn’t looking incredibly happy at the moment. 

“I’m a mother of at least five children, Bruce. And I have to deal with you. I can tell when someone’s glaring at my back.” 

“I do glare a lot.” He grimaced. “I should’ve known better.” 

“Underestimate me again and you’ll pay for it.”

“And if I do then you can name your price, my dear.”

[rubysunnday]

Favourite Brother

A/N: not gonna lie, I am terrified to post this because there is no established community for a bridgerton sister like there is with peaky blinders but into the unknown we go

Y/N Bridgerton is based off my own character who is Daphne’s twin sister (there’s a whole thing in my head as to why her name begins with a C, but i digress) and is, technically, the eldest daughter but is never seen that way. 

If she was being completely honest, making her debut into society at the same time as her twin sister was probably one of the worst things Y/N Bridgerton could have done. Ultimately, it was down to her mother to make the decision and no matter how much Y/N - and Eloise - begged for her to postpone her coming out for a year, her mother was insistent (Eloise’s begging had been so that none of the attention next season would be on her). 

Y/N knew that her first season out in society wasn’t going to go well. She had Daphne as a sister for heaven’s sake - despite being older than her by a whole five minutes (a fact her oldest brother, Anthony, seemed to keep conveniently forgetting) - Y/N Bridgerton was merely a twinkle compared to the explosion that was her twin sister.

The Queen had offered Y/N a most gracious remark alongside her sister but it felt as if it was merely to balance out the scales - as if she didn’t truly mean it.

But, deep down, she hadn’t wanted to believe that she was merely a cast off. That she was just Daphne’s sister and was nothing more.

Her first ball, however, solidified the feeling she’d had for a while. That she was nothing more than Daphne’s sister in the eyes of the ton. Daphne was the season’s diamond. Y/N was merely a geode waiting to be split open. Unassuming on the outside but magnificent on the inside. 

Y/N stared after her brother and Daphne as they wandered around the room, eyeing out appropriate suitors (which, according to Anthony, didn’t exist in that ballroom). 

“Dearest,” Violet said, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, noticing her fury, “shall we go get some lemonade?”

Y/N had a childish urge to grab a cup of lemonade and pour it over her brother’s head but swallowed it down, forcing a pleasant smile to her face. She turned to her mother and nodded.

“Anthony means well -”

“Mother,” Y/N grounded out. She really did not want to talk about her eldest brother. 

“He means well,” Violet repeated, handing her daughter a glass of lemonade, “he’s just fiercely protective of you all.”

“Everyone except me, you mean?” Y/N corrected, giving her mother a hard stare. Y/N sighed and slumped against the wall. “I know he does,” she said quietly, almost not wanting to admit it. “But it’s almost as if he doesn’t realise I’m here.”

Violet nodded. “I know. But he wants the best for you - we all do.”

“Yet the best simply are not here in this ballroom tonight, are they?” Y/N countered, giving her mother a raise of the eyebrows. “He and Daphne are walking around the room, eyeing up every suitor in that room and where am I? Hiding at the back by the drinks table like a wallflower.”

Violet put a hand on Y/N’s arm in sympathy for there weren’t many words she could offer her daughter that would be of any comfort. She knew the feeling of being a wallflower all too well. 

“Y/N! Why are you skulking back here?”

It was almost as if a light switched on behind Y/N’s eyes at the sound of her brother’s voice. She turned and smiled at Colin as he, and Benedict, approached her, weaving through the ambitious mama’s and their debutantes and studiously avoiding making eye contact with any of them. 

“Anthony has eyes for Daff and Daff only,” Y/N replied, standing on her tiptoes to hug Colin and then Benedict. They’d inherited the Bridgerton good looks and the Bridgerton height. Something Y/N and her five foot four height was all too jealous of. 

Colin smiled sympathetically at his sister, knowing full well what she meant. He held out his arm to her, ever the gentleman. “Well, shall we go promenade around the room?”

Y/N giggled as she excepted Colin’s arm. She then looked up expectantly at Benedict who gave her the iconic Bridgerton smile (one Y/N had mastered too) and he offered his arm to her too. 

The three of them began a deliberately slow walk around the edge of the room.

“You do realise everyone’s looking at you?” Colin whispered, a cheeky grin on his face.

Y/N, for the first time that night, felt all the attention on her. Every suitor watched her as she passed by and all offered a smile. 

But, deep down, she knew she was second best. And she refused to settle for that. 

“Not that we’d let you pick any of them,” Benedict added quickly. “None of them are suitable.”

Y/N swallowed her urge to groan, counted to five in her head and looked at Benedict. “You sound just like Anthony.”

“Well, someone has to,” Benedict replied giving her a smile that had made many a woman swoon in the past.

She didn’t understand why. Well, Benedict was her brother. Whenever he smiled at her she just remembered the time he’d left a fish in her bed and she’d retaliated by leaving numerous frogs in his room. 

The sibling prank war of 1805 had been a dangerous one. Y/N had fallen down the stairs and ended up with a concussion and Benedict had ended up with a long, and loud, lecture from Anthony about the dangers of trip wires near staircases. 

“Oh, there’s Anthony and Daphne,” Colin murmured, noticing them on the other side of the room. 

“Daff!” Benedict called, all but dragging Y/N over to the,

Y/n, who’s arm was in Benedict’s, didn’t have much choice to follow and neither did Colin as Y/N wasn’t about to let her buffer leave anytime soon. 

Anthony looked up at them as they approached but his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Y/N in the middle of them. 

“Have you been looking for suitors?” Anthony asked, his stare narrowing even more when he noticed someone eyeing Y/N over her shoulder. 

“Did Mother tell you yet?” Colin asked Daphne, saving Y/N from having to talk to Anthony and conveniently turning the conversation away from her. “I’m to start my tour in Greece.”

“Oh, Greece, that sounds wonderful,” Y/N said, both her and Daphne making a similar remark. Daphne and Y/N glanced at one another and giggled. 

Anthony’s eyes widened as he looked up. “On guard!”

It was an instant change. All five of them suddenly had anywhere else to be and they all turned around, fully intent on heading to literally any other corner of the room.

“No escape,” Colin muttered as they heard the formidable Lady Danbury’s cane hit the floor loudly.

“Too late,” Lady Danbury called. “I already noted you.”

Her words were followed by a loud thump of her cane. Startled, Y/N stepped back in Benedict and accidentally stood on his foot. She lost her footing, wobbled, and fell even further back into her brother.

Benedict, to his credit, let out a soft grunt as his sister impacted him, but then managed to right her and stand her back up on her own feet without drawing Lady Danbury’s attention.

“Lady Danbury!” Benedict, Anthony and Colin all greeted at once, all bowing in sync as if they were performing.

Y/N and Daphne curtsied slightly at the older woman. 

Lady Danbury’s eyes rested on the two girls. “I’ve yet to see either one of you on the dance floor,” she said, her eyes narrowing even more.

“We’re biding our time,” Anthony cut in. 

“We?” Y/N whispered under her breath, sparing Anthony a glare that would’ve turned lesser men to stone. 

Apparently Lady Danbury had heard that but, to her credit, said nothing. If anything her usually steely glare softened ever so slightly when she looked at Y/N. 

“You poor girls,” Lady Danbury muttered, shaking her head. “I always knew I liked you two for a reason,” she added, eyeing Daphne and Y/N as they both gave Anthony a disdainful, joint glare (one the two girls had hoped she’d missed but, as usual, Lady Danbury never missed anything.) “As for the rest of you.... hmmph.”

And with that, Lady Danbury vanished off to torture some other poor soul.

Benedict stared after her with an offended expression. “Hmmph? Hmmph?” He echoed. “Is that all she could come up with? Hmmph?”

Y/N smiled to herself. “She likes us,” she said, looking at Daphne with a smile. 

Daphne smiled back at her sister. “Yes, it would appear she does.”

Benedict grunted. “You can have her.”

Y/N elbowed Benedict in the ribs and her brother let out a rather loud grunt - one that had numerous nearby partygoers look over to wonder what was happening.

“For that, you can dance with me,” Benedict muttered, grabbing Y/N’s hand and all but dragging her away from the safety of Colin and Daphne and onto the dance floor.

“You hate dancing,” Y/N said as she struggled to keep up with her brother. she was suddenly spun onto the dance floor and somehow managed to keep her footing. 

Benedict put his arm on her waist and gave her a level stare. “I also hate being paraded around by our Mother,” he said, nodding his head behind him.

Y/N leaned past him and saw Colin being unwillingly paraded around the room by their Mother. Colin, ever the gentleman, was putting a smile on and greeting every single debutante. But he did look up at Benedict and Y/N and give them a very ungentlemanly glare.

 Y/N let out a very unladylike snort and laughed. Benedict rolled his eyes. 

The music began and the two began dancing around the obnoxious looking floral arrangement in the centre of the floor. Neither one said anything for a moment - focusing on the music and ensuring they were getting the steps right.

“Thank you,” Y/N said quietly. 

She’d noticed her mother, Daphne and Anthony leave a few moments earlier and whilst Daphne had given her a sister an apologetic look and her mother had ensured Colin was going to get her home safely, Anthony had marched off without a second glance.

Benedict frowned. He twirled Y/N twice and then resumed the proper position. “Whatever for?”

Y/N smiled up at him and for the first time that night, felt as if she was enjoying herself. “For being my favourite brother and saving the day.”

“I’m your favourite?” Benedict asked, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture.

Y/N hit his arm. Hard. “Don’t ruin the moment,” she replied as the song ended.

They bowed to one another as the dance ended and then moved off the dance floor. Y/N suddenly wrapped her arms around Benedict’s neck and hugged him tightly.

Benedict, surprised by the sudden show of sibling love, slowly returned the hug with a confused expression. 

“Thank you for making this night worth it,” Y/N whispered in his ear. 

Benedict hadn’t been oblivious to the way Anthony glossed over his sister. Whilst it was probably unintentional - everyone knew that Anthony Bridgerton would die for his family - he hadn’t missed the hurt look in Y/N’s eyes. 

Benedict smiled and ruffled Y/N’s hair as best he could without messing up the intricate updo. “Always, sister.”

Colin, impeccable timing as always, then happened to walk into Y/N, backwards, almost dropped the lemonade he was carrying and ruined the entire moment. Y/N fell forward into Benedict and Benedict fell back a step trying to catch his sister and his brother. Benedict had then slapped Colin on the back of the head. 

But according to those around the ballroom, Colin had been clumsy on purpose to try and cheer up his sister. Which had worked. 

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: Roommate HCs [V1]

To be honest, I just wanted to ramble some more and let my brainworms take over. This is sorta late but Happy Valentine’s everyone! I was gonna post this earlier but this honestly took me a long time to write so I moved it to today. 

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. Seriously, as much as I love writing this non-serious fics. Why do you people like this?

—

Based off my ramblings with Keqing anon: Link

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

—

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @kaechu @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​@minakohasmanyhusbandos​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​ @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ 

---

Diluc

What? Diluc has a roommate? Did you blackmail him in living with you? Is that even possible? Did you throw yourself in front of his car because you needed someone to pay for your student loans and the easiest way was to file a lawsuit? In this economy no one would blame you. Diluc seems like such the self-isolated character that would murder his roommate in cold blood but in reality, he act’s detached from the world because he forgot how to socialize and he’s desperately trying to cover it up without choking. That or he’s trying to learn how to astral project. If he could drink away the pain he would but instead he buys 20 packs of grape Kool-Aid and injects it into his veins. 

Does not and will not ever have a normal sleeping schedule. You’ll wake up to him working, come back home to him working, and will sleep to him still working. His daily dose of Vitamin D is from the brightness of his screen rather than the sun and he’s filter feeding at this point. It’s concerning. He’s going to crumble and he’s bringing the world down with him. Through the power of tax evasion. But as soon as he needs to walk out into society, he pulls movie magic and looks like perfection. It’s both physically and mentally disgusting. 

He’s actually is a really nice roommate to have just so long as you give him space. Great cook and knows to clean up after himself. Though he does have crash and burn days where’s he’s completely out of commission. You could set the entire apartment on fire and he would sleep through it. The entire two weeks are dedicated to zombie eye marathons and then he’ll suddenly collapse and sleep for 46 hours straight. When he wakes up from his hibernation he’s the most groggy and nonsensical person. His life blood is coffee because you keep hiding the 5 hour energy away from him because, you know, life is enjoyable and those cancer bottles will actually kill him.  

“University sucks our money out of our bodies faster than our will to live.” 

Beidou [Happy Birthday Queen 💕]

Despite her appearance, she’s actually really strong and it scares the piss out of you when you’re doing something or scrolling through your phone mindlessly and you suddenly get your spine re-arranged when she slaps you on the back to ask what you’re doing. Likewise, when she hoists you up and throws you over her shoulder so you come with her on her 3am convivence store raids for alcohol. It’s either you change now or else we’re walking out of the apartment in your t-shirt and no pants self. She can and will carry you under her arm that way. It’s both incredibly attractive and horrifying at the same time. 

She’s really friendly and a great talker if you’re alright with her “I must hold you in my arms, fresh prince of bel air style”. It doesn’t matter if you’re taller than her, she’s doing it. She does however, get in a bit of trouble from her rowdiness and you often get noise complaints but Beidou just passes them off to Ningguang and everything is fixed. She has ovaries of steel when neighbors rather confront her personally and she’s ready to 1v1 in the parking lot. You’re trying to desperately hold onto her shirt to stop her from pile driving your neighbors for the third time this week but she’s too strong.  

She’s constant party until we die attitude and suffers the hangover in the morning. It’s actually really funny to catch her in her hangover moods because whatever filter Beidou had, which is none, is gone. She really takes “cursing like a sailor” or the next level and the amount of creativity she comes up with is actually impressive. She can be a bit messy but she’s really likeable and always down to go anywhere with you as long as you’ll do the same. It’s a very ride together, we die together situation. You’re my best friend, you’re dying with me. I’ll see you in hell. 

“Imma T pose over my dad and then crash the car into the parking garage.” 

Kaeya

Kaeya on the surface seems like such a chill roommate. And he is for the most part. But he’s such an ass. Your things are his things, no questions asked. If you just bought a really nice sweater or you had leftover food, that’s his now. He’s innocent until proven guilty even if he’s literally holding your lunch. The pure amount of bullshit he can spit out to convince you that no, he did not pull the fire alarm because he wanted an excuse for not going to work, puts him on Shakespeare level. He’s also very pretty, way too pretty, sir can you share some of your genes? 

But aside from that, he’s actually super dependable. You forgot something at home? Sure, he has nothing better to do so he can bring them for you. We’re missing eggs? No problem, he’s just by the store. You’re 95% sure that he just wants to be cheeky and make you thank him for 20 minutes before he actually hands you what you asked for. It’s better for you if you never tell him anything you’re afraid of because Kaeya has no social cues, or more like he throws them out the window, and he’s probably a psychopath. 

He’s incredibly private of his room and things despite his attitude towards yours. You’re convinced he either has a secret lab or that’s where he’s storing the bodies. I was the good guy but due to unfortunate circumstances, I need to stab a bitch. But he’s a really good serious talker for those 3am, because everything happens at 3am, talks about life and the meaning of the universe. It absolutely wrecks your sleep schedule but some of the things you talk about are the most crackhead things like what’s the lowest amount of money someone would have to pay you to walk outside without clothes? It’s a legitimate question. 

“Never before have I been so offended with something I 100% agree with.”

Jean

Okay, what world did you save in a past life to live with his absolutely wonderful woman? Mother Teresa take a load off, take a seat. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll bring home little treats back home and it’s the most wholesome thing ever?? Is this what love and affection feels like? We’ve been starved for so long. She says it’s not a big deal and anyone would do it BUT THE MOMENT SOMEONE BUYS FOOD FOR YOU. IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT. They are forever stuck in your will until proven otherwise. An absolute ray of sunshine that must be protected. 

She does get super busy so you don’t often see each other or get to hang out as much. She’s a bit of a workaholic but a lot more easier to talk her into taking a break. She’s also a pretty decent cook but she prefers baking and jesus christ, girl can you calm down? Be still my beating heart, I’ve been smitten. Has mother hen vibes that you’re not sure if she’s your roommate or if she adopted you into her family. It’s time to start a petition for the Jean protection squad. Given the opportunity, I would aggressively hold your hand. 

She’s always open to whatever you want to do. Any recommendations or things that you like she will try out at least once despite her busy schedule. She’s lowkey lonely because work consumes her so any time you want to hang out or do something together, she jumps on it like she’s feral. She get’s a bit shy to ask if she can join in on your plans because she doesn’t want to bother you or intrude no matter how many times you tell her that’s okay, she still get’s a bit iffy about it. Please save this girl before she trips. In your arms. Platonically. Just kidding haha. Unless?

“I can’t wait to see you happy and not hating everyone again haha.”

Childe

First impressions of Childe were great, until he opened his mouth and you realized how much of a two brain cell child(e) he was. He has two braincells because they constantly have to 1v1 in his brain. He’s lived with a lot of siblings so he has no social awareness or concept of privacy that you’re lucky if you come home and he’s half-dressed. It doesn’t matter if you’re 2 weeks older than him, he’s going to call you 82 years old and why your bones aren’t being fossilized at this point. He’s such a little shit, this fucker licks the yogurt lid peel.  

He get’s really restless when he’s stuck under house arrest, because apparently 1v1ing in the parking lot of a Wendy’s is illegal for some reason, so he makes dying whale noises until he get’s to go outside again. But he’s actually a really wholesome guy, probably because of his younger siblings, that he’ll sometimes get you something because you seemed down and it’s such whiplash? Who is this man and where did he come from? You’re starting to have a change of heart before he tells you that he got banned from the library for accidently punching the school’s computer. How you “accidently” punch something you have no idea but Childe always comes home with some sort of injury. Maybe he’s just incredibly clumsy. For your sanity, you’re going to go with that. 

He’s actually so uncultured that it’s crippling. You can’t blame him too much considering his upbringing and it’s great that he’s so interested in learning new things but...child no...It makes you want to take your spine out of your ass and rip it like a Beyblade. Watching him take chopsticks and stab his food like it’s marshmallows makes you want to fall into a blackhole and let the chair consume you. 

“I, too, fantasize about beating the living shit out of people.”

---

Is this another tag yourself game cause I resonate with Diluc. I’m crying in insomnia. As much as I enjoy writing these fics I absolutely hate tagging them. I remember I used to have a tag anon but that was back when I wrote for bnha. 

Valentine’s Day was fun tho. I had a drinking game with friends as we played league then ended it off with a movie night. 

[donutloverxo]

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King’s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

[rederiswrites]

A friend just posted a little personal ad for a cat waiting for adoption, with the tag #adoptdontshop, and it reminded me of something I’ve been mulling on lately, which is only tangentially related to cats. 

You know the wonderful comic, the one with the goblin-looking dudes and the airships, and Goblin A couldn’t understand why Goblin B didn’t make airy, colorful, pretty airships like everyone else--but the balance of the comic shows that those dark, heavy airships reached down into the dark crevices of the world, and were a lifeline to different people? I don’t quite have the words yet, but to do my best--it works the other way around, too. Not that sometimes we are too “high up” to reach people, but simply that we’re too far apart.

#adoptdontshop is a message that a lot of people probably need to hear, but honestly it took me years to really grasp that. I thought it was a rather trite and silly message, actually. Because I had never shopped for a cat and wouldn’t even know how to go about it. I don’t think that as a kid I knew anyone who had gotten their cat from anywhere more official than the Humane Society. Nearly every cat I’ve ever had started out as a stray or child of a stray. The idea of buying a purebred cat was rich people nonsense, up there with $50 steaks and gold paperclips, and not to be considered as a statistically significant thing. #adoptdontshop was a message that fundamentally wasn’t for me.

Sometimes I look at someone’s blog, or a post, and I think--this person is suffering, but I don’t think I can speak to them. I don’t think we have enough in common for me to reach them.

Take depression, for another example. Some of us are ready to hear messages about “Shower. Get some exercise. Eat breakfast. You’ll feel better.” To some, those messages are just infuriating. These people are desperate. They don’t feel able. They need outside help, to give them a foothold. Since they may have despaired of that as well, almost any message of hope might be received negatively. Maybe, maybe, after counselling or medication or a change in life circumstances, they will be in a slightly better position to hear basic advice for maintaining their bodies and minds. Depression is a good example because so many of us find ourselves on multiple points of the spectrum at different times. I know I’ve been both of the people above.

Your art, your story, your carefully crafted PSA, will only reach some people. That’s okay. There are a great many people in the world. Some may still be a lot, applied over large populations. But also, if someone’s creation doesn’t reach you, that doesn’t mean it was bad or wrong. It may just not be for you.