#(but also it is a nice letter in its own right)

[anachronismstellar]

Hello, I'm the anon who chucked a lot of brainrot are you recently, gonna sign off as moon anon since now, cause theme.

Okay but what if, one of the next peak lords really needs a hug. Like, that person is at least lvl 3 touch starved but doesn't really have the guts nor a person to ask for cuddles. And then they hear of Shang "peak lord collector" Qinghua. And they logically conclude that since he doesn't mind close contact he also wouldn't mind some other types of it, right?

Que a letter goes in with reports next time, adressed to SQH and enchanted not to be opened by any one else. And he's confused but then he opens it and it's very sweet letter asking if he would be amenable for a cuddle session. And on one hand what the heck, on the other this is so cut omg.

So he accepts and then he basically gets a cuddle buddy who also can make some really good snacks and actually got some really really nice bed and oop he fell asleep.

Bonus points if the peak lord is somewhere on the aroace spectrum and while there may or may not be sex, that is definitely a peak lord that will not hesitate to shank someone for sqh. So they are def collected. "Why do you invite him over?" "I'm a slut for cuddles. We also have a book club"

And yes, they will try to shank MBJ if he tries to take their cuddle time away from them. They might be the tiniest peak lord at the cursed 5'2/5'3 but it's cause they are condensed ball of mass destruction and they have their ways.

-moon anon

Moony!!! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to finish this asiufhsaudf

And, as you know, and as I do, the prompt ran away and became its own thing lol

The name for the Divination peak I borrowed from the amazing faq by 00janeblonde

Now, a few TWs:

There is a two line description of childbirth, I'm gonna put it in orange if anyone wants to skip that. Also, Jiao Qingxing is a very anxious baby! I didn't describe any panic attacks, but he is going through some severe touch starvation here, if that squicks you please please take care of yourself!

Last, but not least, I do have some comments about our dear hamster behavior in this fic, but enough of me blabbing, and on with the show! :D

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Jiao Qingxing liked to think he had a good face. It wasn't good practice for a physiognomer to analyze their own physical appearance, that would be the same as dooming themselves. But it was hard not to measure the space between his brows and nose while looking at his bronze mirror, or trace the small mole he had on his cheek with his fingertips when nervous. 

Nevertheless it was a good face. Maybe not a peerless beauty as Shen-shixiong, or striking as Wei-shixiong, but with good proportions and free of hardships. 

His numbers were also to be praised. Born under fortuitous time with astonishing balance between his elements, he knew he had been chosen to be the head disciple as soon as he gave his first cry while his mother still laid on her delivery bed, sheets smeared with blood and sweat. Oh he had to go through all the procedures to enter the Sect, but everyone knew that he would pass all tests. It was written on his name, on his destiny. And the following peak Lord of Zhi Ji would be chosen the same way. 

There was only one thing, he thought, in which he felt less fortunate than his martial siblings. 

“There you go, Shidi. You can put your clothes back on.”

Intimacy.

Jiao Qingxing’s entire body shook with relief as he sat down on the soft cot bed, the movement making his jewelry chim softly like clear bells. He felt a bit bad for tuning Mu-shixiong off while he gave the same old same old report on his vitals and his qi, too tired to hear the encouragement on the doctor's voice.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was improving since the past session, they were taking the necessary steps to move a bit forward and maybe take his hair do down while they do their sessions-

Jiao Qingxing closed his eyes, swallowing down as Mu-shixiong’s speech echoed on his head before the doctor said it, word by word, death by a million papercuts.

No matter how much time had passed, how closer he had gotten with his martial siblings, he seemed to be encased in glass. And it wasn’t for lack of trying on both sides, they all have been head disciples one day after all, and he had attended many parties in which Zhang Qingyan’s wine was passed around freely and games were played as if they were kids once more. 

Nevertheless, it’s been years since he had approached Mu-shixiong with his little situation, and still he hasn’t allowed himself to relax enough to put his hair down during their sessions. He appreciated Mu-shixiong not forcing the issue, but made Jiao Qingxing a bit sad that the doctor wouldn’t scream at him and make him go through his treatment properly as he would with the other peak lords.

Made their hugs feel a bit hollow, more an obligation than a nice moment between them.

“This one thanks Mu-shixiong for his time,” Jiao Qingxing said as he put his robes back on, one layer at a time as one would put silk over expensive porcelain to protect it from chipping. 

“Before you go, Shidi,” Mu Qingfang extended his hand towards Jiao Qingxing, the heat of his palm hovering over his arm without touching it. “This one has a matter to discuss with you.”

Jiao Qingxing held back his desire to hunch his shoulders, blinking away the visions of a thousand futures that could possibly settle over them. 

It was his power, it was his curse. Mu-shixiong called it anxiety but he had got too many predictions right to fully trust the doctor’s diagnosis. 

“As Shidi knows, this one is going to the Caves at the end of the month. Not for long, but for enough time to cultivate and check the others there. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be back on time to have another of our sessions,” and it would be so funny if it weren’t sad to see his Shixiong nervous, as if Jiao Qingxing would cry and despair. 

Honestly, he felt bad for feeling relief.

“It’s no issue, Shixiong. This one understands. We can reschedule it for a further date.”

“I would agree to that if Shidi’s meridians weren’t blocked as they are now,” and wasn't Shixiong so nice to say it as if it were just a minor hiccup instead of him being in the cusp of a qi deviation? “I fear that we reached an impasse. I can’t forward your case to my head disciple because that would be improper, but I also can’t leave you without your treatment.”

“What are you suggesting, Shixiong?”

The doctor took off his glasses, pressing down on the faint mark on the bridge of his nose. Jiao Qingxing wouldn’t dare read his face so shamelessly, but he couldn’t help to think that the faint stubble fit him well, balanced his youth and gave the Qing Cao Peak Lord an air of maturity that was charming. None of these observations helped him when the suggestion came:

“I have made a list,” Mu-shixiong said as he slowly put his glasses back on, patting his robes before extending a piece of folded paper to Jiao Qingxing. “Of other possible candidates for your session. Of course the final decision-”

“No,” he said as he tightened his robes a bit too forcefully, the silk slipping through his fingers as they shook from anger.

“Shidi, be reasonable-”

“I said no!” he shouted, and that made the doctor raise both his hands, always hovering but never touching.

No one ever touched-

“Shidi,” Mu-shixiong waited until he had calmed down, not wanting to upset even more the progress they had made during the past two hours. “I assure you, whoever name is on that list will be careful with the information and I will instruct them myself about all the procedures.”

And isn’t it sad? He should be used to it, but it still hurt to hear it in medical terms like that. Procedures. As if hugging Jiao Qingxing demanded step by step routine. 

He took the paper. He knew that Mu-shixiong wouldn’t scream at him or force anything, but the doctor might get some weird ideas like dragging Jiao Qingxing to the caves with him and that would be even worse than dealing with whoever might be written down.

Jiao Qingxing hated the caves, too many possibilities, too many destinies interconnected, too many futures that he couldn’t grasp. 

“How…” and he had to take a small pause, pressing his lips in a thin line as he blew air from his nose slowly. 

Exhale. Inhale.

“How much time do I have before sending you a response?”

“I would say until the end of the week.” and he didn’t need much to read the discomfort on his Shixiong’s face. He knew the deadline was tight, considering how sensitive it was for Jiao Qingxing. 

“Very well,” he said instead of lashing out again, picking up the list without looking at it yet. “I will think about it.”

“This Shixiong appreciates his Shidi efforts.”

He left Qing Cao Peak with disheveled robes and a sword speed that would make Liu-shixiong envious.

-xx-

It had taken him three days to look at the list hidden on the sleeve of his robes, the paper so crumbled it was a miracle Jiao Qingxing could understand Mu-shixiong's calligraphy at all. The list, as expected, was extremely short, with some names that were a bit unexpected, such as Qinghui-shixiong, to some a bit more sensible as Gao-shixiong. 

What was curious, though, was the name at the very bottom of the list, scratched out but still recognizable, considering his options:

Shang Qinghua

Now, there could have been many reasons for the name to have been reconsidered. He wasn't one for gossiping, but he was almost sure he heard someone say that Mu-shixiong had special feelings for Shang-shixiong. Could be that he had put the name down and then got jealous? Mu-shixiong didn't seem the type to do so…

Another possibility was that Shang-shixiong himself was too busy to schedule an entire evening with him to deal with his situation. That sounded more plausible, considering how he had never seen Shang-shixiong stop moving or taking a break. 

But that wouldn't be the perfect reason to put Shang-shixiong's name on the list? Mu-shixiong might not be the jealous type but he was the type of person that wouldn't throw away the chance to force his most jittery Shixiong to stop and rest. So, putting Shang Qinghua's name wouldn't be killing two birds with one stone? Why take his name away then? 

He traced the lines over Shang Qinghua's name, making an impulsive decision. 

He was making it a bigger fuss than it was. They would meet, have calming tea, sleep for two hours and then probably never look each other in the face again, and then he would go back to his appointments with Mu-shixiong that were strictly professional but at least it didn't involve socializing. 

That’s what he repeated to himself as his head disciple announced the arrival of the An Ding peak lord, a few weeks later, for their appointment. He asked his head disciple to guide his Shixiong to his Leisure House, putting his papers aside to take a deep breath, gathering the courage to get up and move. He hadn’t slept a wink the past night, jumping from bed as soon as it was deemed an acceptable hour to take the longest bath he had ever taken, scrubbing his skin so hard it became red all over. It didn’t help with the sensation of ants crawling up his arms, but it made him more grounded, focused on what he had to do. 

Tea. A little talk. Sleep. Send Shang Qinghua away.

He opened the door to his Leisure house as if opening the door to a war council, soft steps hesitantly carrying him all the way to the table where Shang Qinghua was sitting, back towards the door. 

What made Jiao Qingxing stop on his tracks was how relaxed his Shixiong seemed to be. The bun on the top of his head was nowhere to be seen, instead soft brown hair covered yellow robes in waves of curls, as if Autumn itself had dropped its colors all over Shang Qinghua. 

The smell of lavender, the usual tea Mu-shixiong would prepare for them both before their appointments, was a familiar comfort, calming his heart as he got closer to Shang Qinghua, stopping just a little bit behind the An Ding peak lord. 

“Shixiong.”

The sound of wood being knocked followed by a string of curses made Jiao Qingxing flinch, immediately taking a step back. Meanwhile, Shang Qinghua rushed to get on his feet, almost falling face first on the ground to take a bow, excuses spilling from his mouth faster than Jiao Qingxing could understand.

“-said that I should wait here, but oh my god I should have waited by the door, I’m so sorry Shidi, shit I’m already messing this up, aren’t I? And after all the talk Mu-shixiong sat me through too, oh Heavens, but I made some tea! Lavender is your favorite, right? I brought some others as well just in case-”

“S-Shixiong-” it was too much, Shang-shixiong was too much. Jiao Qingxing already knew that; he had to sit through all the Sect meetings just as all the other peak lords and ladies after all. However, one thing was to face Shang Qinghua’s presence with others to shield Jiao Qingxing from all the anxiety Shang-shixiong seemed to be moved by, another thing entirely was to bear the full force of it. 

This might have been a mistake, maybe Mu-shixiong had been right on striking the name off the list.

Because on top of all the exaggerated hand movement, the nonstop talking without talking about nothing at all, there was… There was something odd about Shang-shixiong’s that Jiao Qingxing couldn’t pinpoint. An energy that made all the hairs of the back of his neck tingle, rising up as if he were in danger; a faint circle of bright blue in his eyes that hurt Jiao Qingxing head if he stared for too long. 

Things were moving too fast out of control, he had to go back to the plan, they already had tea so they just had to talk, if Shang-shixiong let me talk, Qingxing thought with a deep sigh as the other kept going on and on about-

What was he talking about?

“-but then I read this book uh- back in my hometown, I don’t have it anymore, but I did some research, you don’t need to worry!”

“Thanking Shixiong for his efforts and his time,” Jiao Qingxing bowed low, already feeling exhausted. “But this one must beg forgiveness for wasting Shixiong’s time. This one will talk to Mu-shixiong-”

Warm hands touched his shoulders to gently make him straighten his posture, pulling a gasp from Jiao Qingxing's throat. He forced his gaze to stay cast downwards, not daring to look at his Shixiong’s brown-blue-gold eyes. 

“Jiao-shidi has nothing to apologize for, it’s this one who has to beg for forgiveness,” Shang Qinghua slowly but surely moved one of his hands from Qingxing’s shoulder to his hair, tugging it gently before putting it behind Qingxing’s ear. “This one went a bit ahead of himself, didn’t he? Hm…” and then he let it go, as if Jiao Qingxing hadn’t been branded by his heat, melting under it as soft snow on the first day of spring. 

Shang Qinghua sat down again, tapping the pillow next to him as an invitation, his silence ringing on Jiao Qingxing's ears after so much noise in the past minutes. He definitely should have just waited for Mu-shixiong, he could feel his breathing starting pick up as the situation fell out of control, he wanted to be touched again, he wasn’t expecting Shang-shixiong to be so warm, he-

“Here’s what we are going to do, Shidi,” Shang Qinghua said as he pulled Jiao Qingxing by the sleeve of his robe, making the Zhi Ji peak lord sit heavily next to him. “We are going to talk. Just talk. Okay? If you still think this is a bad idea, I will talk to Mu-shidi and we can think of something else. No harm done. What do you think?”

He gave Shang Qinghua a little nod. Talking is a good idea, he could talk. Staying so close to Shang Qinghua might be a bit too much, but he also wasn’t extremely bothered by it. 

“Good, great, now, I know that if we keep going this way I will do all the talking and that would be bad,” Shang-shixiong said as he busied himself by pouring them tea, offering the first cup to Qingxing as if he weren’t throwing all the ceremony and property out of the window. “So why don’t you tell me a little bit about your cultivation? I had never had someone reading my fortune, sounds fun!” He finished with a nervous giggle clearly not wanting to have his fortune read at all.

That was okay. He wasn’t going to do it anyway.

“There are many ways to tell one’s fortune.” he forced himself to say after sipping his tea, closing his eyes, pretending to be lecturing his disciples. “Analyzing the stars and the calendar is a very common one nowadays, but there is also the Four Pillars and, in my field of studies, Physiognomy. It’s not perfect, usually one has to combine more than one method…” and bit by bit he relaxed, letting his shoulders drop, the trembling of his hands simmering down until they were steady again. 

He spoke for a long time, explaining each type of method, their histories and when to apply them. And when it felt as if he couldn’t speak anymore, Shang-shixiong started asking questions, doing his best to pull Jiao Qingxing into a debate, challenging him to explain from how one could calculate the position of stars and determine which place a bed should be put in a room, to how the lines of the palm of his hand were connected to his heart and life. 

And the most mesmerising of it all, Shang Qinghua paid attention. It hurt a bit to have his full attention so close, but Jiao Qingxing couldn’t help but drink all of it, eager to be seen, to be truly seen after so many years of polite small talk and far away smiles. 

Before they both noticed, the sun had already set and their time together had come to an end. Reluctantly, they both stand on their feet, with Jiao Qingxiong following Shang Qinghua all the way to the door. 

“Well, that was fun!” Shang-shixiong chuckled, not back to his full energetic self, but unable to hold back his excitement either. “Now I have to rearrange my entire room, see if it improves my mood like you said.”

“I will be waiting to hear about the results, Shixiong.” Jiao Qingxing couldn’t hold back a smile either, shaking his head at his Shixiong’s silliness. “But it takes time. It won’t work after a night.”

“Yea, you are right.” Shang Qinghua nodded with a sigh, a twinkle in his eye that made Jiao Qingxing blink. “So I just have to keep coming here for the next few weeks then. To give you my report.”

Jiao Qingxing didn’t have a single romantic bone in his body. Or any interests for these types of relationships, that’s precisely what had put him in this situation to begin with.

But even he had to admit that… That Shang Qinghua was good at this. Flirting. Heavens, he might have even felt his cheeks heating up!

“If Shixiong so desires,” he said as he lowered his eyes once more, unsure how one should send a person away after being flirted with. “This one would be happy to hear Shixiong’s report.”

“Great! I will bring the tea, I know we didn’t drink much of it this time-”

“White tea.”

“Pardon?”

Jiao Qingxing felt the burn on his cheeks spread down his neck, glaring at the floor as if it could force it to open and end this embarrassing moment. 

“I prefer white tea. Mu-shixiong makes me drink the other to help me calm down but-”

“Ah,” and Qingxing couldn’t help but look up at Shang Qinghua, the soft smile on the An Ding peak lord tugging something on his heart. “Then I will bring the white tea. No need to tell Mu-shidi about it, huh?”

With a last promise to be back at the same time the next day, Shang Qinghua jumped on his sword, soon enough becoming a speckle of yellow in the dark sky. 

-xx-

Shang Qinghua came back the following day. And the next. And the next one.

Sometimes they talked for hours, other times they worked along in silence, or as silently Shang Qinghua was capable of being. It almost felt like routine, as if it was normal for the An Ding peak lord to spend so much time at Zhi Ji peak.

And, bit by bit, he could feel Shang Qinghua getting closer and closer. A brush of their hands here and there, a playful tug at his sleeves, their shoulders touching as they revised paperwork side by side. 

Again, Jiao Qingxing wasn’t a romantic, but he could appreciate the gestures, more than anything he could appreciate the lack of hesitancy in which Shang Qinghua invaded his personal space, as if he had all the right to be there. And funnily enough, Jiao Qingxing felt as he did. 

“Shidi,” Shang Qinghua called his attention, probably not for the first time by the way he was pulling his sleeve. “Can I brush your hair?”

The question felt as if it came out of nowhere, making Jiao Qingxing pick up one of the braids close to his neck.

“What for?” he asked, not entirely against the idea, but also not sure if he wanted to trust his hair to the person who kept theirs in a bun most of the time. But all he got for an answer was a shrug, and Shang Qinghua flicking the small chain on his hair pin. 

Too curious to see where this was going, he gave one last glance at his Shixiong before going all the way to his room to grab his comb, handing it to Shang Qinghua before sitting with his back towards the other. 

“If it hurts, let me know,” he whispered a bit too close to Jiao Qingxiong's ear, starting him enough for Qingxing to move a bit away from his Shixiong. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Shang Qinghua said with a squeeze of his shoulder,  getting to work. And, as if they had all the time in the world, Shang Qinghua took away his hair pin, using his fingers to massage Jiao Qingxing's scalp. 

It was as if someone had poured hot qi from his head, dripping down all the way to his toes. He barely could hold back a moan as Shang Qinghua used his nails to scratch from the top of his head to the back of his ears, thumbs pressing a bit over the back of his neck. 

He couldn't help but close his eyes, tipping his head back as clever fingers separated his hair into sectionsbefore Shang-shixiong actually started combing from the bottom all the way to his head.

It might have been the most relaxed he had felt in years. He felt his body swaying, a whine leaving his lips when strong arms pulled him closer, until his back was fully resting against Shang Qinghua's chest. And again it felt like Shang-shixiong was made of heated rocks, his warmth making it very difficult for Jiao Qingxing to concentrate on being awake.

“Shidi?” The voice next to his ear made him whine, the sensation too good for him to answer properly. “What about we take a nap, hn?” and how could he do anything else but agree?

Once more he was held by Shang Qinghua's gentle hands, this time to be carried all the way to his rooms. A distant voice in his head screamed that it was a mess, Shang-shixiong deserved better than two days old sheets and an unmade bed, but there was a rumbling coming from Shang-shixiong's chest as he hummed a nice tune, distracting Jiao Qingxing from his loud thoughts. At some point the humming was gone, replaced by Shang Qinghua explaining everything he was doing as he removed all the layers of robes Jiao Qingxing preferred to wear, leaving the Zhi Ji peak lord only with his most inner robe.

“Shixiong,” he whispered as cold sunk deep into his skin the moment Shang Qinghua left him to remove his own clothing. “Shixiong, please-”

“Shh, sorry, sorry, I'm right here,” and then Jiao Qingxing felt-

He felt.

The hiccup was like a punch to his chest as tears trickled down his face. Suddenly it was impossible to stop the sobbing as he hid his face against Shang Qinghua's neck, calloused hands touching him everywhere, burning his skin in a searing white sensation. 

But not hurting. Never hurting.

“Shhh… Shidi is doing great, that's it, let it all out…” Shang Qinghua's tone of voice sounded far from being an order, but it felt as a command all the same. 

And Jiao Qingxing cried, and cried, until his voice was gone and his heart felt hollow. And when there was nothing left for him to pour out, Shang Qinghua was there to hold him through, his presence a soothing balm that lulled Jiao Qingxing to sleep.

The next day, when Shang Qinghua left after they shamelessly slept in, there was a smile on Jiao Qingxing's blushing face, and a letter to Mu-shixiong ready to be sent, reporting not only the successful results of the session but also a request to discuss his treatment in depth.

-xx-

Ye Ling had a notebook.

Not an An Ding notebook, that was a separate one, filled with all types of forms and procedures, plans for classes and disciples’ names that needed to be kept close or the ones that should be praised. No, her notebook, well cherished and taken care of, had the cover made of dark leather, paper so used that it didn’t close properly anymore, calligraphy so small that, if her Shizun ever saw it he would say she was practicing to cheat on tests. 

Not that he would ever see it. If Shizun ever caught her notebook... 

She would be dead.

It had Shang-shizun’s entire love life noted somehow. The things she was able to piece together, at least. There were many gaps, her Shizun too paranoid for her to snoop too much without getting in trouble. And because she would be dead if her Shizun ever found the book, she took an extra step to write everything in code, with names and symbols that she had made herself.

Her Shizun had taught her well!! It didn’t hurt to be prepared!!

However, because her Shizun was also the person who taught her how to write things in code, when she saw her precious dark leather notebook in the hands of Shang Qinghua, An Ding Peak Lord himself, she felt her vision darkening, and the sound of her heartbeat so loud it made her ears hurt.

She could try her luck. He probably hasn’t seen her come in. She turned around, ready to bolt-

“Ye Ling.”

Oh. Oh no.

That wasn’t the “I am so angry I might actually go after Liu Qingge and throw him down.” voice.  

That was the “You didn’t file the form correctly and now I’m angry and disappointed” voice.

And it was so so much worse.

“Yes, Shizun?”

He closed the notebook and put it down in front of him right in the middle of his desk, as if daring her to get closer to grab it. Then, slowly, so slowly that all the hair in her arms and neck stood up, he raised his eyes at her, pressing the point of his index finger against the pad of his thumb, the only thing betraying calm posture.

“I won’t step in the way of my head disciple getting some extra coin.” He got up from his desk and her knees were going to fail her if he got closer, all the alarm bells ringing on her head. “But you must agree that I am entitled to some questions.”

She dropped to the floor so fast her hands slapped loudly on wooden boards, touching her forehead to the ground.

“This disciple is immensely sorry and apologizes! This lowly one is ready to accept her punishment as Shizun deems fit!!” At each word that she screamed, his footsteps got closer. “This one won’t complain and will take care of the entire course plan of the new disciples when time comes, this one is also willing-”

She wasn’t even aware of what she was promising anymore when he grabbed her by her forearms, picking her up as if she were a small crate of parchments to be moved, patting her sleeves to clean up the dust on her white robes.

“Stop that! It won’t work with me, young lady, in the school of begging for your life, I might be your grandmaster!” 

Shizun, have some decency! Show some mercy!! Normal people don’t brush off their students' meddling and betting on their love life! And they don’t confess being masters of begging for their life either!!

“No take backsies though, next batch of new disciples is all yours to teach.”

“But Shizun-”

“Nope, not hearing it! You said you would do it, they are yours now!”

“A-Aren’t you mad?” and it was a testimony of how confused she was that she didn’t even notice the extremely informal way she just addressed him. And thank Heavens her Shizun wasn’t one to stick to these types of formalities, otherwise she would be packing her bags to the sewage district for sure.

“Oh, don’t be silly, of course I’m not mad!”

“Uh-”

“I am furious,” and the glare he sent her way was scarier than Shen-shishu’s, she didn’t even know that was possible. “I don’t care if you make a betting poll on my sleeping habits or whatever I will quit my job before the next Immortal Alliance Conference, what I am disappointed about is the fact that you wrote it down!”

She didn’t flinch. She knew her Shizun would never touch a hair of her head to harm her in any way, and she knew she deserved this scolding. But in moments like these, when her Shizun is actually serious for a change, when she was reminded that her Shizun was an Immortal with enough strength to level mountains if needed, and a brain with so much information about everything and everybody that it was actually scary, it was very difficult to not send a prayer to the Heavens for her life.

The Sewers might not be so bad. Maybe.

“This one begs her Shizun for mercy, the notebook was in a safe location, I swear!”

“Not so safe if I was able to get my hands on it!” he argued back, and this close she could see the white of his eyes, his lips pulled down in an almost sneer. 

She lowered her head again, blinking to make the burning sensation in her eyes go away. She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t, tears were for playing victim and tricking the enemy, that’s what Shizun had taught her. 

She would swallow her pride and accept her fate. 

An inked finger touched her chest, right down her neck, making her tilting her head even lower to see what her Shizun would do next. But before she could move at all, he swept his finger up, catching her nose for just enough of a moment to make her stare at his hand cross eyed, letting her go with after a gentle squeeze. 

“I taught you better than that, Ye Ling.”

She didn't have the face to answer or look at him, so she only nodded, shoulders hunched to make herself smaller.

“Now, as for punishment, I want a complete research on codification of information, different types of ciphers, and talismans for protecting books and contracts.”

She raised her head, not wanting to complain about her good luck but also not believing in it one bit, twisting and pulling the cord of her head disciple pass on her waist. That was it? Getting stuck with the new disciples was harsh and a task more fit to her shimeis and shidis, her schedule as a head disciple already busy as it was. But… Teaching the kids, research on codes and… Nothing else?

“Also your notebook is mine now,” Ah. There it was. “I will give you another notebook later, but this one stays with me.” Then he twisted her around so she would be facing the door, pushing her all the way out of his office. “Good luck rebuilding your betting poll from scratch, now shoo, I have work to do!”

Then the door was shut with a faint “thud”, leaving her alone with heart fluttering on her chest like a bird that had escaped the claws of a very scary cat. Her hands were so sweaty she had to pat them down on her uniform to not drip it on the floor.

It was fine. She wasn’t dead, it was fine.

If you are alive, you can always start again, wasn't that what Shizun said?

But first she had some research to do.

---------

Can y'all believe this AU has more than 25k words? I never wrote so much for a fandom in my entire life lol

Now, about Shang Qinghua and Ye Ling: He is angry and so proud and so angry is not even funny. Mostly because that little notebook could have put him in a LOT of trouble with a certain demon King 👀 plus, I don't believe Shang Qinghua acts as much as a crying "weak" mess around his students, he has to teach them how to deal with a lot of shit from other peaks, so he lets An Ding disciples take a little peek under his "I'm just a silly guy please don't hurt me I will cry" mask. As a treat.

Ngl, this fic became a little bit of a indulging moment for me, and I had to get out of my comfort zone writing it! But I really hope you all like it <3

I'll post it on Ao3 later after I take a nap lol

10/12 PEAK HERE WE GOOOOOO :D

[fictionadventurer]

Was this written by future President of the United States Chester Arthur or Anne of Green Gables?

[whocarloto]

Can someone please Help me learn ignoring very loud neighbors please. I am so very Close to having an anxiety Attack because of it

[sunny-knight]

Dear My Dear -

an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow

At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…

*now what?

Its lore time. omg theres so much-

The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.

THE BIGGER PICTURE

This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.

I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.

Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.

ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.

(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)

my dear wingdings,)

Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.

you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)

Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-

Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!

(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)

i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)

the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans

The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.

Or if Wingdings just became him.

A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.

i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)

2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.

The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things

but i cannot live like that.)

Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.

Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!

and it seems you cannot live any other way.)

another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.

I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”

when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)

When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.

As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.

But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!

He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**

Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.

Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”

i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.

Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.

The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.

Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.

theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)

Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying

“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego

I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.

Thats the good man within him

you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)

the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.

The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.

Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later

Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-

Its not that deep…but still-

i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)

CALL BACK!!!!!!

Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.

As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.

i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)

GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!

Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.

cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out

EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and���hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…

and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.

- your brother

As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!

Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.

Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.

the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.

FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!

weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day

also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.

un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-

well I mean that-….. hm…

does that…? hmm, well….

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!" 

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw 

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard]

Okay time for the PBS Kids essay

Read it under the cut!

:readmore:

In 1968, before there was PBS Kids proper, there was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. While it came several decades before the children’s block, it laid the foundation for the themes and values present in every facet of the network’s history.

Mr. Roger famously hated children’s programming at the time. To him, it all was droll and useless. But he didn’t dissuade the medium entirely— he saw potential. Potential that led to a few smaller television jobs, and eventually the creation of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.

Rogers didn’t invent educational TV for children, but he did perfect it. He poured real heart and soul into probably the most sincere, heartfelt program in history.

Honestly, he could have his own essay. The more things you learn about the real man of Mr. Rogers, the more you’ll like him.

Anyway, the biggest thing that makes PBS different is the fact that it earns money through grants, fundraisers, and private donors— not through sponsorships and merchandise sales. This way, PBS Kids can push programming that it feels is important, rather than programming that merely sells well.

This also means PBS is less afraid of pushing social boundaries. Money doesn’t go away when their shows become subjects of debate— and Mr. Rogers took full advantage of this.

For context, this was 1969. The Jim Crow era had just barely, barely ended. Pool segregation was still very much legal.

Mr. Rogers sharing a pool and a towel with the Black Mr. Clemmons was a pretty big deal at the time— especially on a show made for children.

Rogers was far from the untouchable sacred cow of today. When he was alive, he had a large number of detractors. Let’s just say that scene didn’t fly nicely by everyone.

Just one year after the debut of Mr. Roger’s came Sesame Street.

While Mr. Roger’s was made for all children, Sesame Street had the explicit goal of supplementing the education of underserved communities— especially inner-city Black (and later Latino) children.

While it was made to be accessible to children of all races and income levels, they definitely went the extra mile to make it something special for inner-city Black and Brown kids. (Why do you think it it’s “Sesame Street” and not “Sesame Cul-de-Sac”?)

At the time, a wholesome, sweet show set in a brownstone street was practically unheard of.

Jon Stone, the casting director, deliberately sought to make the cast as rich with color as he possibly could, bringing on a huge amount of Black talent such as Loretta Long, Matt Robinson, and Kevin Clash, as well as featuring Black celebrities as guest stars. Later, the show would expand its horizons, bringing on actors from Latino, Asian, Native American, and many more backgrounds.

White actors were and still are a minority on show.

In addition to letters and numbers, the purpose of Sesame Street is clear: make kids of color know that they’re smart, beautiful, and loved.

It doesn’t get more explicit than this.

I want to point out this comment because it’s funny

You’re telling me this bitch isn’t Hispanic???

Anyway, these two were followed up by Reading Rainbow in 1983. And guess what?

That’s right. Non-white focus.

These three shows, (along with other, lesser-known programs like Lamb-Chops Play Along, Newton’s Apple, and Shining Times Station (who featured Ringo Starr himself?? seriously how did that happen and why does no one talk about it) and some other nostalgic favorites like Bill Nye the Science guy, The Magic Schoolbus, Arthur, and Thomas the Tank Engine) aired on the new PTV block, which evolved into PBS Kids in 1999, bringing along Between the Lions, Dragon Tales, and many more.

Arthur is another stand-out that I’d like to talk about— it doesn’t have the same racial focus of Sesame Street, but it does focus on different income levels. The characters have various housing situations, from apartments to mansions to no home at all.

It also takes cues from Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s in regards to talking about tough topics, though as Arthur has a slightly older target audience, it discusses things through stories rather than talking directly to the audience.

Cancer, religion, workplace discrimination, along with current (at the time) events such as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina are all discussed on the show.

Another big focus on Arthur is disability. For once, they don’t stick a character in a wheelchair and then pretend he’s not in a wheelchair. A striking number of major characters either develop or get diagnosed with physical disabilities and/or neurodivergences, such as asthma, severe food allergies, and dyslexia, and they deal with them in very realistic ways.

A handful of minor characters have more obvious disabilities, and THANK GOD they go beyond the trite messaging of “disabled people can do everything abled people can do! everyone clap now!”

One episode in particular has the awesome message of “holy shit stop trying to help me all the time— it’s patronizing as fuck. I can get around just fine without you stepping on eggshells and trying to be the hero all the fucking time”

There are sooo many other shows I could talk about, but I can’t write about them all. I’m definitely gonna point out some more standout ones, though.

Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat

Created by Chinese-American woman Amy Tang

Dragonfly TV

Features a multitude of female and non-white scientists to foster an interest in science with kids in those groups

Maya & Miguel

One of the network’s first Hispanic-led shows

SciGirls

I shouldn’t have to explain what the goal of this one was.

Molly of Denali

When was the last time you saw a show that treated Native Americans as people? Much less a children’s show? 90% of the cast is Athabascan, and the show revolves around Athabascan culture, not shying away from topics like boarding schools and modern-day racism. Most of the writers are also Athabascan, and the show even has an official Gwich’in dub!

It’s this commitment to real, authentic social justice that makes PBS Kids so much different from its competitors. Could you imagine the Paw Patrol dog looking at the camera and earnestly discussing what happened to George Floyd? I don’t think so— but Arthur talked specifically about it, Sesame Street did an hour long special about race in general, and the network itself made a 30 minute special.

Disney Jr. could never. (Other than trying to teach colorblindness, of course.)

I’m gonna have to cut this into two parts, since I just hit the image limit

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

[fishnapple]

How to love yourself better? A request letter from yourself. (Channelled message)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. White

Dear myself,

If I could light a fire right now, I could, just to see if that fire can compete with my light, our light. And yet I got a feeling that fire will burn brighter than us, just because it had someone to start it. But ours didn't. We stowed our fire away, our light, for fear of burning the eyes of the world? Or for fear of being engulfed in the sea of darkness outside?

Have you ever seen a solar eclipse? People gathered to watch it, a brief moment of the sun being eaten. A brief moment. Imagine how the world would be if that brief moment turned into a very long moment, an eternal one? Panic, fear, despair. We have prolonged our solar eclipse for far too long, let the Sun has its shine. Does it sound arrogant when I talk of us as the Sun? No, you should get used to it. To be the light, the be seen. Even when the Sun seems like a solitary existence on the sky, it's not, so are we.

I wanted to tell you many beautiful words, give you praises and a pat on the head. Sounds embarrassing, right? We should learn to do that more often. And then practice it with other people too, we all need it sometimes, a lot of times.

Do you know what will happen when we turn the anger on ourselves? Somehow, it will ricochet inside us and finally shoot out at other people. It's painful, for us and for them. Let's hold it in our hands, watch it breathe and stroke it gently, find where does it hurt and tend to it, then poof- it's gone. You catch anger not by throwing it around and putting it in a cage but let it heal and fly away on its own.

I'm sure that sometimes you will find yourself drowning in life, in other people's water. Losing yourself could be your worst nightmare. But you will never lose me. It's odd how we're surrounded by people but feel like we are alone in our struggle. Where did all the people go? Are they also drowning like us? In a different sea? I hope that all the seas are connected to each other so we can all find others to swim with us.

Till the next sun rise, yourself.

2. Pink

Oh, how I want to just throw away everything and run barefoot on the sand. To lie face up, watching the clouds passing by for hours. To paint the wall bright pink and yellow (this combination might hurt your eyes if you stare too long, though). But we're not a kid anymore, or so people have told us, much like how we've told ourselves, convinced ourselves to behave.

It's fascinating to watch the process of our resistance to what is taught to us. Why do we resist it so much? It feels like being gravely offended. We have our principles, and now we have to listen to others telling us what is right? What is wrong? Let me tell you, in a small whisper, it's actually nice to listen. Just listening, not obeying. It will feel like swallowing a rock. Maybe we could learn from the chickens a little, metaphorically. They swallow small rocks to aid in healthy digestion. So let's swallow some of the hard lessons.

You always like to think in concrete fashion. You try to touch your thoughts with your own hands and knead them, mould them into whatever you want. And when you're dropped into a relationship with someone, you find yourself lost that ability. It's all a jumble mess. You find your hands reaching out, grasping for something. How about the other person? Are you afraid that you will lose yourself if you hold on to them? It's fine, you won't. It's just an outdated belief that you've held on for far too long.

As we were talking about swallowing, you may want to watch what you're swallowing into your stomach, literally. Watch what you eat! Don't make yourself, ourselves suffer by bringing unhealthy things into our body. We may want to live long, you know.

Hey, if you find a dance class is too embarrassing, how about we turn off the light and dance with each other in the middle of the night. Nobody will know, but we will feel good (I'm not trying to be a flirt with myself here)

Your best friend, love.

3. Red

Make me a cup of tea, please.

Let's have a chat, just us, lying around lazily, sipping our favourite tea, imagining some weird scenarios to entertain us, playing some puzzle.

I don't have much to tell you because we talk to each other every day and I know you always try to be better for us. I love you and I'm proud of you. Let's be vain and give ourselves applause every day. Make it a pinky promise.

A reminder when you're feeling sluggish and slow, we are going to exactly where we need to be. You are guided and protected.

Keep on shining and be the little kid that runs around in the rain.

I love it when you're running wild, letting yourself, me, free, splashing colours everywhere. I just want to grab other people's hands and drag them to the dance. I love it when you're laughing, loudly, even better when you jolted others around you, oh, their surprised look, priceless.

Just be sure to take care of your body. Don't over tasking them. Work hard, play hard, but rest hard also.

Have you been thinking about going on a trip somewhere? No? Then, allow me to make a gentle request. Let me put the idea in your head. Go on, go to wherever you're thinking, there might be a surprise waiting for us, *hint: it will make our heart flutter*.

Let's make it a ritual to go on a trip every year. Let's give our mind and spirit a makeover. Dust off any tangled mess we have and prepare a space for new things to come into. I'm so excited.

It's got me thinking lately, there's this small blinking light in the back of our mind, sometimes I can see it, sometimes I can't. I want to find out what it is. It's like a signal, trying to reach us, can you feel it? Sometimes, there's this odd feeling swelling inside that you can't put your hand on and naming it. I think if we can sit still, quiet, in the dark, we could see it better. It's guiding us. To where? I got a feeling that it's somewhere deep, somewhere with a treasure, waiting for us. If we can uncover it, it will be the greatest gift that the universe has ever given us. So let's go and find it.

Love, myself.

4. Green

I have some news for you. Brace yourself for changes. They're coming, very fast, very soon. Sit yourself tight. I don't want to give spoilers, but I guess we will receive some sudden confessions or offers. What you will do with those confessions is completely your choice. You don't have to feel guilty if you don't return their feelings, my dear.

I think the way the universe is sending us this kind of surprise is telling us to reconsider our 'single' thinking mode. We have stood alone, strong and independent for so long, I think it actually makes us a little too comfortable in being alone that the thought of getting into a connection with someone can be daunting. Will we lose our freedom? What if we are dependent on them? This time, the universe is saying: 'you and your worries will not make a good journey together, break up with those worries, here, I will throw in some opportunities for you to practice '.

If you don't want romantic connection at the moment, fine, different types of connections will come. No matter what, the universe is determined to get us involved with other people. It's for our own good. I have to admit that it's hard. It's not easy to change our way of thinking and believing. So surprises will be needed.

When opportunities come, the gate is opened, we just need to receive them. Walking through the gate will feel like walking out of a confinement into the wild, lively world outside. We will be propelled into a new path that we hadn't even considered in the past. Beware of what you said in the past about how you don't want to do something, you can't imagine yourself doing something. Well, guess what, we are going to do just that, joke on us.

So, in the meantime, even if you're resisting, it's fine. Just take care of yourself, of us. Obsessive worrying can sadden our body.

Something is going away, giving space to a new energy coming in. This new energy will be softer, more loving. The harshness of the past will go away soon. Trust me.

Love, Your companion.

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part1. my new roommate

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: you`ve got a new roommate as you moved for uni, you are trying to built a descent relationship with her but she is stubborn. the main problem is that she makes you really nervous.

・❥・ genre: grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: drug use (weed), smoking, swearing

RIDE ON ME masterlist

after moving to another city for university, you found out that there was no room in the dormitory and you were put on the waiting list. the dormitory staff reported that the approximate waiting time for a place in a room is about 2-3 months. unfortunately, you weren't accepted to the university right away due to problems with documents, so booking a bed beforehand didn't make any sense, because you could be refused by university at any time.

however, everything has its advantages, living in your own apartment provided those: you cannot worry about the curfew, your things will not suddenly disappear, smoking was not prohibited, although you tried to rid yourself of this disgusting habit - periodic slips were not an exception, unfortunately.

that's why you decided to find a place to stay a week before the train to the new city. either housing on the outskirts of the city, which would entail an hour and a half to get to the university or renting for two – that’s your options that would fit your budget. so, the neighbor it is. you tried to reassure yourself that this is also better than a dormitory, in your case you could at least choose a roommate...

after several days of searching, you came across an ad in which it was stated that a 23-year-old female is looking for a roommate, the apartment has 2 bedrooms and a kitchen, there are appliances, shared utilities. according to the map, it was only 20 minutes away from the university. isn't that great? you immediately responded to the ad and a girl named Vi gave you all the necessary details. if you only knew how much she would change your life.

--------------------------------------------------------

"I'll be there in 15 minutes. see you later" - you sent a text to your future roommate, exhaling from tension, you were nervous before meeting her. she wasn't very chatty on text, you didn't even see her pic, if it wasn't for the verified website, you'd think you were walking into a trap for some pervert.

"no, no, come on, she's probably just very quiet, it`s even for the better, you won`t disturb each other" - you thought to yourself - "no need to make myself nervous, this is a new step in my life and I'm sure that everything will be great"

after you arrived at the station of a new city, your phone vibrated. this is a text from Vi - "ok".

“are the letters expensive or something?” - you said, pushing your suitcase, the poor thing's wheels came apart from the load of the amount of your things.

indeed, exactly 15 minutes later, you were standing at the door of your new apartment, but you could feel an unpleasant excitement throughout your body. you were so tense that the air could be cut around you, exhaling slowly, you mumbled under your breath

“hello Vi, I'm your new neighbor, it's nice to finally meet you in person”, “hello Vi, I'm your new neighbor..”. "enough, why am I nervous at all, it's not that we're going to actually live together, I might not even see her, all day at university, after that I have a job to find, she's just the girl in the next room"

after another minute of self-soothing speech, you finally knocked.

“it`s open” - a voice from inside, somewhat breathless, you noticed. you entered the apartment, from the threshold you smelled the mixture of sweat and weed, this aroma was so unexpected that you thought for a second about whether you had come in the right place. a moment later a muscular figure appeared in front of you, a rather stocky girl with short pink hair was looking at you, she was a little sweaty, her hands were tied with bandages that go under boxing gloves. it's not at all what you expected...

“are you going to keep staring or will you finally come in?” - the girl turned to you a little annoyed

“yes, yes.. hello, Vi, I'm your new neighbor, it's nice to finally...” - you started to say the already prepared phrase with a strained smile, but you were immediately interrupted.

“I know who you are, come in and close the door behind you”

rude.

“follow me, I'll show you your room and the kitchen," - Vi said and immediately went to the left of the exit. out of anticipation, you didn't even take off your outer clothes, but immediately ran after her. the tour took only 30 seconds, you realized that you definitely won't communicate more than you did by text.

“thank you, and your room is on the right of the exit then?” - you asked, trying to keep the same tight smile on your face.

Vi's eyebrow arched – “well, obviously, I see you are smart” - she threw the phrase with painful sarcasm. - "any other questions or can I go now?"

“no, that's all, thanks...” you answered slowly as your smile faded from your face.

“I'll be in my room, if the music disturbs you - knock twice” - you just managed to nod in response. left alone in the middle of your empty room, you felt that you would definitely not become friends.

after such a "warm reception" you decided to start unpacking, before that you cleaned the entire room and the toilet. Vi's music was really playing loudly the whole time, but somehow the thought of making a remark about it scared you a little. after an hour of unpacking, you finally looked around your room.

“very cozy, a few string lights, posters and it will be just like at home” - you were very proud of what you did, but your thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling in your stomach. no one canceled dinner, that's when you had a brilliant idea. even though Vi is not very friendly at first glance, you decided to follow your grandmother's advice - good food always brings people together. after a quick trip to the store, you came home with all the ingredients for pasta carbonara.

"an Italian dinner in less than half an hour is perfect." when all the ingredients were ready - you started cooking, until suddenly you felt this scent again... weed, so it`s treu then, she does smoke in the apartment, this was not in the ad. not that it really bothers you, but actually you just wish you did too.

half an hour later, everything was ready, you found the dishes and necessary utensils, prepared everything for two and went to Vi's door. your palms were a little sweaty from nervousness, for some reason before every thought that there would be even minimal communication with Vi – you were nervous. you stopped in front of the door and as soon as you thought to knock, for some reason you started to worry even more. you started to rub your hands together and shuffle a little, when all of a sudden, the music in the room stopped.

“do you understand that I see you standing outside my room?” - Vi's voice in almost half a tone sounded from the door.

"fuck, there is a gap under the door. this is so embarrassing" - you flinched

“yes, um, sorry, I didn't want to distract from... what whatever you are doing there... well, I prepared dinner... for the two of us. yes. and I would be very happy if you would join me” - you said with a smile, as if she could see you.

the pause of a few seconds seemed like an eternity as the door opened in front of your face and Vi's figure appeared in front of you close enough that you could feel her smell.

“why?” - this question confused you a little.

“well, I want to get to know you, I already understood that we will not communicate closely, but we will still share this apartment, so I think that this time will be useful for us” - you said with your head raised, you wanted to look confident, even though everything was trembling inside you.

unexpectedly for you, Vi smiled a little to herself. just now you noticed what a beautiful face she has, thick eyebrows, little tattoo, deep eyes and an attractive smile, her lips were like... "hey, enough, what am I thinking?" - you stopped yourself.

“ok”

“what?” - you returned to reality.

“dinner. ok. I'll be there in two minutes” - Vi closed the door in front of your face again.

"everything went well... I think..." - you began to reassure yourself, because at least she did agree.

exactly two minutes later Vi came to the kitchen, since there was no table for some reason, you sat down with a plate on the soft sofa in front of the TV. your roommate slowly walked over to the stove that had the food on it, while she was putting food for herself, you got a chance to get a closer look at her. she has a tattoo, it was very hot, the whole back was very well painted, Vi herself was wearing a white tank top that allowed you to admire her muscles a little better. you watched her muscles move depending on what she was doing, how her rather large hands handled the kitchen a little awkwardly. you smiled at this fact, and began to stare at her hands more carefully. they were so big, you started to wonder how they would feel on your body...

“like what you see?” - Vi smirked.

you snap back to reality, this is the third time in a day you're staring, what's going on?

“yes... NO! I mean, yes, but…” - you blushed - “I'm just thinking about what kind of sport you do” – "great, and who is the possible pervert here now?"

Vi smiled again - “boxing, there is a punching bag in my room” - she liked the reaction she made on you.

at dinner you spoke little, but you spoke, it`s a beginning. she didn't tell much, she mainly asked where you came from, what university you're going to and what major.

“international relations, ha. why am I not surprised?" Vi laughed. her laugh was also attractive, just great, you were already nervous around her, now that is added to your list.

“what is this supposed to mean? why are you laughing?” - you asked in surprise.

“your approaches to people and the way you communicate are very... diplomatic,” - Vi admitted.

“thanks, I think...”

after Vi finished her portion, she was about to leave, when you called her – “and what about dessert?”

“I'm already full, but thank you” - "that smile again, why does it affect me so much" - you thought.

you went to the fridge and took a cupcake, then handed it to Vi, hoping she wouldn't notice how you blushed – “maybe you'll want something sweet at night” - you said with a smile, looking into her eyes.

“yes” - Vi looked at you with that smirk again  – “I might want to”

she took the dessert from your hands, your fingers touched each other for a few seconds, you felt as if you were electrocuted. how can a person you saw for the first time in your life evoke so many feelings? after a short silence, you decided that you should go to bed earlier, because tomorrow is an important day.

“okay, I'm glad you liked dinner, I'll clean up and go to bed, I have to go to university tomorrow, so if possible, don't turn on the music loudly” - you took your eyes off Vi.

“fine. good night, cupcake” - Vi's eyes looked at you with a smile and went to her room, closing the door behind her.

“cupcake?”

[beloveds-embrace]

Noon, babe, I have such bad brain rot right now and need to share it. Right, going on an undercover intel mission with TF141, its a big fancy charity gala and as the daughter of an billionaire its easy to get on the guestlist and you need to pick a plus 1. The boys all argue on who it should be but ultimately you pick Gaz (you dont want to make Simon uncomfortable by making him take of his mask, people you know are there and they'll know Price is older than your usual dates and Soap is too crass). So you to the gala in a beautiful backless dress that matches the colour of Kyles tie and you begin your mission. You eventually make your way to an office where you download documents but get warning that someone's coming so in an attempt to make it seem like you werent snooping, you grab Kyle and sit on the edge of the desk, slotting him between your legs and messing up both your hairs and his tye before placing one of his hands on your tight and hitching it around his hip while his other one goes to your lower back and you pull him into a heated kiss. You do get interupted but manage to play it of as you just wanting to get frisky with each other and when you return to the party and immediately leave Kyle has a hardon the whole time and you propse to finish what you started putting the divider up in the limo and fucking Kyle in the back. When you get back to base, its obvious what happened and the others are jealous and raging they didnt get to fuck you first so they all take turns until you can barely remember your own name

I can’t hoard this any longer but lord. Anon. I need to make out with your brain it’s just too good 😩 imagine also wearing lace lingerie or- or those thigh jewelry with the letters and you are wearing one with K on it?? Im abt to go feral like Kyle would also be the second he notices all the little details.

A lil offtopic but the best song for this? Petition by beyonce because also imagine talking dirty to Kyle in french?? Lord forgive me im abt to BUST

the dress and lingerie aren’t surviving once you return to base though <33 they gotta show you how nicely they can fuck you too <33

[dognonsense]

Question...how do you make your patches? They seem so fuckin cool. I'm working on a vest and a jacket atm, and I'd like for them to be done by the time a pride fest rolls around next month.

Main technique I use for making patches nowadays is linocut. Its best suited for mass production of patches.

Make sure to remember your carving the mirror image so you have to flip all the text. Using tracing paper to flip the design is a good trick, as well as leaving graphite marks on side, then pressing that to the lino to leave the marks in the same spot. Another trick with pencil is to view what ur carving in negative space quickly, put a paper over your design and shade over it with pencil, darker marks will be where you haven't carved yet.

I use speedball fabric ink, it takes 1 week to set then will be fine to be washed. I have magenta, violet, turqouise, and white. They have a limited range of fabric colors at the store. I have seen gold and silver fabric paint for sale and I will investigate it one day.

I use a speedball roller, i find the smaller one to be better than the big one as I can be more precise and waste less ink.

I got a fancy handle for $40 but the screws fallen out so its broken now so just get some heavy books. I used to use a mug. Whats important is pushing your whole body weight into it.

I got a speedball carving tool with different heads I can swap out so I can cut into the lino at different deepness and widths. The heads are stored inside the tool since its hollow and has a screwable removable bottom. I use linocut or dollar store erasers for my carvings. Make sure to wash the ink off your linocuts after your done using them.

A thing to increase the lifespan of you're linocuts is to use wood glue, some cork or wood pieces, and glued the lino stamps onto them. I dont do that yet so my stamps fall appart from overuse sometime and because I cut way too deep into the lino since I hate chatter.

Chatter is the term for in linocutting when theres little messy lines and stuff. It makes the art more recognisably to be linocut. My work is very clean with no chatter which is why people don't notice its linocut usually. This is a stylistic choice, with diy styles having a lot of chatter can look really cool so experiment with leaving bits of extra uncarvered lino sticking out in ur stamp. I need to experiment and buy some more lino.

You can also use multiple linocut stamps together to make a patch. Some patches ive made have like 8 different stamps. Ive made a dog nonsense patch where each letter was their own eraser stamp. You can also use different colors between the different lino stamps on the same patch to add more color. An effect I like to do is first stamp it in color, then the next day I stamp it in white over the same spot but shifted to the right and down slightly. It makes the text have a cool border 3D effect I love doing.

If making a more detailed picture with colors, i reccomend hand painting patches. I use white fabric paint mixed with acrylics for color to get all the shades i need. Acrylic paint mixed with fabric softener works too.

If doing words and you dont want a unique font reccomend using letter stamps. If you want a unique font for that i recommend hand paint for individual or linocut for mass produce.

The positive of letter stamps is the font is neat and can be done quickly. I know from lending them to my roommate that they are very helpful if you have dyslexia and have trouble getting letters right.

A visual effect of the letter stamps is that have a nice boxy edge effect, its an imperfection that adds a personally touch to it. I have both lower and upper case stamps that I got from michaels. You can use a hair band or elastic to hold a bunch of letter stamps together to make a word stamp.

You can use other stamps than letters that you find at craft stores for example my racoon print is a craftstore stamp.

You can also find big plastic letter stencils at the dollar store that you can use to do lettering by filling in gaps with a sponge or or paintbrush. They make special paintbrushes just for using stencils.

You can also get plastic stencils in the shapes of things, i got some for children and use a horse stencil for my horse smoking weed patch. Easier than drawing a horse myself.

Another technique I use for more unique clean patches is gel plating. I haven't tried printing laserprint images with it as ive seen online a lot but I will try one day. What i personally do is use it to make imprints with chains and physical objects.

Another thing i use with gelplates are any stamps or linocuts that dont have words, or words ones that i fucked up with and forgot to mirror when carving. It flips mirror image twice with the gel plate so it goes back to being right again on the patch.

Another patch making technique is using foamboard cut into shapes glued onto cardboard. This is good for a quick test of a design and is very cheap to make. It will not hold under water so is more difficult to clean.

[tomriddleslove]

can I please please please request a reverse grumpy x sunshine with theo 😭🙏🏼 i have a horrible cold rn and im pretty sure im getting a fever too and im so so close to my periods and im in some very desperate need for something nice 😭 it's totally fine if you can't or if you're busy, no pressure!

p.s. im in love with your writing! (if it wasn't obvious before)

Show a little loving.

✩ Theodore Nott x F!Reader

The one where a smitten Theodore Nott is willing to do anything and everything to see that smile of yours. It’s only a matter of time before he has to let you know - and the school mandated trip might make that a lot earlier.

A/N: This was so disgustingly cute i actually almost threw up but ig its necessary after 61 letters LOL (also @stardustsymphony ur actually amazing i hope you like it)

songs: Lovers - anna of the north

Theodore Nott had a habit of being too cheerful for his own good, especially in the mornings. You couldn’t figure out how he managed to wake up so early and still be this bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

It was unnatural.

You leaned against the Slytherin common room wall, waiting for your first class of the day, arms crossed and expression set in your usual neutral state. Your friends called it a "resting bitch face," though you insisted it was just your natural look.

Either way, no one seemed brave enough to bother you this early - except for Theo, of course.

"[name]!" His voice rang out from the entrance, and you groaned internally before turning your head to see him practically bouncing down the stairs, his dark hair flopping slightly as he moved.

“Too early for that much enthusiasm, Theo,” you muttered, but you didn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He always had that effect on you, no matter how much you tried to resist it.

Theodore didn’t seem fazed. He gave you a wide grin as he plopped down next to you on the stone bench. “It’s never too early! Have you seen outside? It’s perfect weather - I thought we could grab breakfast and maybe sit by the lake before class.”

“Not sure if I’m awake enough for all that,” you grumbled, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself. The dungeons were always too cold in the mornings. “But breakfast doesn’t sound too bad.”

“See? You’re already coming around,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

It was a running joke between the two of you. Theo was always the optimist, the 'sunshine' that (much to your dismay) seemed hellbent on making you smile. He was one of your closest friends, so you let him get away with it, though you wouldn’t admit how much you enjoyed his company - or how much his smile did things to your heart you didn’t entirely understand yet.

He nudged your arm gently. “I even asked Mattheo to save you a croissant for breakfast. No need to thank me, though I’ll accept compliments.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him out of the common room, the two of you falling into step as you walked through the corridors. It was easy, the way you fit together. Where you were quiet, he filled the silence with his never-ending commentary on whatever came to mind-whether it was about the latest Quidditch scores or some random thing he noticed about the castle.

Today, it was the latter.

“Have you ever noticed how that one portrait near the Great Hall looks like it’s giving people side-eye? I feel rather judged every time I walk by.” he rambled, feigning hurt as he places a hand on his chest.

You snorted, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up. “No, but now I’m definitely going to look for it.”

“See? I’m expanding your horizons,” he said with a satisfied grin.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking and you’ll lose your seat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that way that always made your stomach flip. “You’d miss me if I wasn’t there.”

You didn’t respond right away, but he wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t know how to describe the way your friendship with Theo felt like it was standing on the edge of something bigger, something neither of you had quite dared to name.

And maybe you weren’t ready for it just yet. But when he sat down beside you, close enough that your knees brushed under the table, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

Theodore hummed contentedly as he reached for the little pot of sugar, dumping three heaped teaspoons into his coffee like it was perfectly normal behaviour. The steam rose lazily from the cup, and he stirred it absentmindedly, flashing you that familiar, easy-going smile.

“Have you packed for the astronomy trip tomorrow?” he asked casually, as though he hadn’t just committed a serious coffee crime right in front of you. “Apparently Tromsø is absolutely piss cold at this time of year. Draco was telling me.”

“I’ll help you pack later. Just so you don’t forget something important. Like, I don’t know, an extra jumper for me.”

You shot him a glare. “Sure, Theodore. I’ll just pack your entire wardrobe while I’m at it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking,” he replied, grinning again. “Just the scarf, though. You know, my lucky one.”

You snorted. “That hideous green one? Absolutely not.”

“Blasphemy,” he said dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, [name].”

“Good,” You deadpan, turning to look at him.

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with something between disbelief and amusement. “God, Theodore-” you chided, pointing at his cup with disgust, “is that not just sugar with a side of coffee?”

"Well someone needs to make up for the clear joy discrepancy in this friendship." He defended, taking a long sip as if to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto your face. “Right, because your never-ending cheerfulness is the only thing keeping us all from a dark, miserable existence.”

“Exactly!” he declared, entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m performing a public service, really. One smile at a time.”

There was something ridiculously charming about how he just… didn’t care. Theodore was all lightness and laughter, one could argue too much so for a Slytherin.

“I wouldn’t need to drink quite so much sugar if you’d stop glaring at me like I’ve just murdered a puppy.” he teased, bumping your knee lightly under the table. “Honestly, one of these days I’m going to get you to smile before 10 a.m. Just you wait.”

You scoffed, but the warmth in his tone made it impossible to stay annoyed. “You’d have better luck with a Patronus charm.”

"There's a reason why I'm top of the DADA class" Theodore shot back with a cocky grin.

Despite yourself, you felt the corners of your mouth twitching upward, and before you could stop it, a smile crept across your face. Quickly, you took a sip of your coffee to cover it up, but Theodore noticed.

If you saw the way he looked at you, you'd know he was in love then and there. The way he almost melted into your expression, eyebrows almost furrowing as he looks over at you. Just as he opened his mouth, ready to say something - something he wasn’t even sure he was ready to admit to himself- Pansy’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Well, if it isn’t day and night sitting over here,” she chimed, plopping down next to you with a knowing smirk.

“Merlin’s sake, Theo. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” Pansy’s voice broke through, dry and unimpressed as ever.

“I reckon the sugar’s the only thing keeping him tolerable,” Mattheo said, slouching into his chair and eyeing Theodore’s cup with disdain. “Otherwise, we'd have to listen to him drone on about defensive spells without end.”

You snorted into your coffee before you could help it, the sound surprising you. You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up, covering your mouth as you shoot Mattheo a glare that was only half-serious. It was loud - unfiltered and genuine, and when you glanced up, you found Theodore staring at you with that easy smile, his eyes warm and a little too soft. Even with Mattheo’s jab at his expense, Theodore couldn’t bring himself to be mad, not when the sound of your laughter was still ringing in his ears.

“Right, like I’d ever come to you for life advice, Mattheo,” Theodore muttered, finally tearing his gaze away from you, though his grin lingered.

Mattheo shrugged lazily. “Probably shouldn't. I’m a terrible influence."

You let the three of them fall into conversation as you zone out, sipping on your coffee. Their chatter faded into the background as your mind wandered, focusing instead on the upcoming trip. The Astronomy class’s trip to Tromsø was all anyone could talk about lately.

And as the pessimist you were, all you could focus on was how damn cold it was going to be.

--

You were right.

It was cold - too damn cold.

As soon as the group stepped off the train in Tromsø, the icy wind cut through your layers like they were made of parchment. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, teeth chattering despite the heavy coat you wore.

"Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath, glancing around at your classmates as they all shivered in the bitter chill. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Because it’s Norway, and we’re going to see the Northern Lights," Pansy answered with a 'that's so obvious' tone, bundling herself up in a fur-lined coat that looked like it cost more than your entire wardrobe.

You shot her a look. “I don’t care if we’re going to see dragons dancing in the sky. It’s fucking freezing.”

Pansy only rolled her eyes, linking arms with Lorenzo as they trudged ahead through the snow-covered streets. The rest of your group followed suit- Draco, Mattheo, Blaise, and, of course, Theodore- who was surprisingly unfazed by the weather, despite the hideous green scarf he insisted on wearing.

By the time you arrived at the lodge where you were all staying, your fingers were numb and your patience thin. The lodge was quaint, wooden, and cosily tucked away at the edge of the forest, the surrounding snow-capped trees giving it a 'hallmark christmas' charm.

You all shuffled into the common room, where the housekeeper with a rather large bushy moustache greeted you with thick blankets and far too much enthusiasm for someone who lived in such a cold climate. Everyone split off to their rooms, getting settled before heading out for the evening’s stargazing expedition - one you had organised amongst yourselves. You were sharing a room with Pansy, while Theodore was bunking with Blaise.

Once you'd unpacked, you met the group downstairs again. The fire crackled in the hearth as the others talked about what to do before heading out for the night.

Theodore appeared by your side, leaning casually against the arm of the sofa you were sitting on. "So," he started, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, "what do you want to do?"

You frowned at him in confusion. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to do whatever you want to do," he replied simply, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "I don't care. I'll just go along with whatever everyone else is doing."

But Theodore wasn’t having it. "You always say that. C’mon, humor me."

Before you could argue, Mattheo walked past and clapped Theodore on the shoulder. "Come on, Nott, stop making her overthink. Let’s go grab some snacks and freeze our asses off while we wait for the lights," he said, and with that, the group started bundling up again, ready to head out into the freezing night.

--

The sky above was almost too perfect - as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. It almost compensated for the bone numbing chill, the sight of string-light lit stalls far too pretty to make you feel grumpy.

For a while, though.

You trudged along beside Theodore, bundled in so many layers that it felt like your entire body had been wrapped in blankets. The long puffer jacket you wore reached nearly to your knees, and your scarf-wrapped around your neck at least three times-barely left room for your face to peek through. You couldn't help but grumble to yourself, tugging at the edge of your gloves to make sure no skin was exposed to the biting cold.

Theodore, of course, noticed immediately.

"Merlin's beard, you're waddling," he teased. "If you added another layer, you might not be able to walk at all."

You shot him a glare from under your knitted hat. "I'd rather waddle than freeze to death."

He chuckled, eyes flicking over your bundled-up form with an almost too-pleased look on his face. "I don’t know, it’s kind of cute. You look like a disgruntled penguin."

You snorted, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Glad you're entertained."

"Come on," he coaxed, nudging your arm lightly, "I bet under all those layers, you're secretly enjoying this. You’re just too stubborn to admit it."

"Enjoying this?" you asked incredulously, gesturing to the freezing air and the snow-covered ground beneath your feet. "I’m wearing half my wardrobe just to avoid becoming an icicle."

Theodore shrugged, his easy grin never faltering. "Still cute, though."

"You're insufferable, Nott," you muttered, scowling as you slap his arm.

He grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself for pulling that almost-smile out of you.

"Oi! We're gonna go see if we can get some hot chocolate and blankets before we set up for the evening, You guys just guard our spot before someone else grabs it." Blaise yells from a short distance, and Theodore nods as you groan. You wanted to be in the cosy warm lodge - not out here on an isolated ledge in the middle of god-knows where whist your friend traipse around the quaint markets.

You look up, momentarily stunned as the half sarcastic curses that were about to escape your mouth dry out on your tongue. Ripples of greens and blue entwine, seamlessly dancing through the dark that otherwise shrouded the night-sky. It wasn't magic, only charged particles from the sun colliding with gases in Earth's atmosphere, causing them to emit light in vibrant colors, typically seen near the polar regions (courtesy of muggle book you had read on the journey here) but it was nonetheless enchanting.

Surprisingly, your voice broke the silence. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Theodore nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Yeah… it really is.”

There was a brief silence, and when you glanced over, you found Theodore watching you instead of the sky, his expression soft.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, still smiling. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how to make you smile.”

You huffed, turning your gaze back to the sky. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I like seeing it,” he said simply, his voice so sincere it made your stomach flip.

You didn’t respond, the weight of his words lingering in the cold air between you. After a moment, he sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll have to try harder, then.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your tone was more fond than irritated now.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “And you’re stubborn.”

You turned to chastise him, ready with another quip, but the words faltered when you looked up at him. The moonlight caught his features- soft shadows dancing across his sharp jawline, his eyes gleaming with that look that you had seen far too often these past few weeks. His scarf, that hideous green thing, was crooked as always, the ends flapping slightly in the breeze.

Your hands moved instinctively, reaching up to fix it. "This scarf..." you started, your voice trailing off as you focused on straightening it.

Theodore’s gaze never faltered as he watched you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if committing it to memory. "You know, I’m not sure if you actually hate the scarf or if it’s just an excuse to keep touching me."

You scowled, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mumbled, but even you could hear the wavering in your voice.

His smile widened, but he didn’t say anything more, just stood there.

Before you knew what you were doing, you tugged him closer by the scarf, pulling him toward you. "This hideous scarf of yours," you muttered under your breath, using it as a flimsy excuse to hide the fact that you were really just closing the gap between you.

Theodore’s eyes flickered down to your lips, his breath fogging in the cold air between you. And then, without another word, you closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But the second his lips moved against yours, something inside you shifted. It was slow, unhurried, his hands gently cradling your face as if he had all the time in the world. The cold air disappeared entirely, replaced by the warmth of his touch, his closeness, and the feeling of him - consuming you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, Theodore’s eyes were still on you, that stupid smile of his making your knees weak.

"You didn’t even fix the scarf," he whispered, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, but you couldn’t fight the grin that broke through. "Shut up."

But Theodore only laughed, leaning in again to steal another kiss.

Your gloved hands came up, fisting the thick wool of his jacket as you-

“Finally!” Pansy’s dry tone rang out, followed by the sound of scattered applause.

You and Theodore broke apart, startled, only to find the rest of your group approaching, grinning like idiots.

“What the-?” you began, but Blaise interrupted, holding up a handful of galleons.

“We made a bet on how long it’d take for you two to finally snog," he said with a grin, pocketing the winnings. "I was getting worried."

Your face burned, and your grumpy demeanor returned in full force as you glared at them all. "I hate every single one of you."

But before you could storm off, Theodore just chuckled, pulling you into his side with a warmth that made it hard to stay annoyed. "Don’t worry," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, "they’re just jealous."

Grumbling under your breath, you leaned into him as the group settled down.

Perhaps it wasn't all too bad.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

valentine's day

summary: spending valentine's day with the monster trio

notes: sanji, zoro, & luffy x implied female reader (separately), pure fluff

black leg sanji

sanji may know your favorite flower or candy, but he remains a teddy bear, roses, and box of chocolates kind of guy 

for sanji, it’s the idea that you deserve love in its purest form; that all he wants to give you is the love people see in movies or read in books

it’s about the sentiment; he could give you your favorite flowers or candy any other day (and he does). today, on valentine’s day, it’s about him and how he wants to show you he loves you 

he’ll plan a nice, romantic dinner that includes a sweet wine, dimly lit candles, and a meal perfectly curated for your palettes

again, to sanji it’s his way of proving to you that he loves you; he’s so in love with you, in fact, that you’re worthy of the love that others only dream of having. so tonight’s meal has been in preparation for weeks before the actual date 

he can’t help but stray from the basics and put his own touches on everything. 

sanji gets all giggly and flustered while he leaves small presents around the ship for you to find. small is a loose term though, in actuality the presents probably cost thousands of berry 

finally, he pulls a couple all nighters to write you a handwritten love letter. it obviously starts off as a proclamation of his love and obsession with you, but around the second page he begins to explain just how much you mean to him. how he’s changed for the better and learned to love both himself and life so much more now that he has you. 

the day consists of being wrapped up in your boyfriends long limbs practically every minute of the day, so many kisses you swear his lips must be tired, and words even sweeter than the candy he gives you

roronoa zoro

zoro gets lost walking on a straight path, you think he’ll remember a holiday? 

i don’t know if he even knows what day it is normally 

since he doesn’t even know what day it is, that most likely means he doesn’t even have a gift for you

sorry babe, but if you want to have a nice date you will have to plan it yourself 

however, if you mention your concerns to someone who is more situationally aware (cough, cough, nami, robin, or sanji), he may remember to get you a gift 

albeit, it won’t be wrapped and will most likely still be wearing the price tag, but it is a gift regardless

that being said, roronoa zoro is incredibly sentimental in his gift giving. just because he may be a bit forgetful does not mean that he doesn’t love you

he loves you so much he doesn’t need a day to remind you of that; he tells you every day in the way that he interacts with you 

considering how much he loves you, remember to give him some reassurance about his airhead-ness. he doesn’t want to admit it, but he was actually a little worried it might jeopardize your relationship 

monkey d luffy

knows valentine’s day is important to you so he’ll celebrate with you, but otherwise doesn’t really care much for the holiday besides all the candy, of course

luffy can’t be trusted with any money nami gives him as he’d spend it solely on meat, so he must resort to handmade gifts

but do not be fooled by the name! your captain is incredibly sweet, the handpicked flower bouquets contain all your favorite colors and all your favorite flowers. he insists on adventuring to a flower field and picking each flower individually claiming that it’ll only be right for you if he’s the one who does it

usopp, robin and nami then wrap it up all nice and pretty for that extra special touch

in classic luffy fashion, he’d also give you a box that has the appearance of a box of chocolates but inside contains a bunch of cool looking seashells or rocks that he, again, hand chose for you

no outside planning is done besides this though as dinner with luffy only sounds fun in theory; he’s a human vacuum cleaner, you wouldn’t get very far in your own meal before he’s swallowing up your food too 

he’d love for you to join him for a dance under the moonlight though

his long, rubber arms wrap around you while his body sinks into yours as you rock back and forth to the music 

and, of course, he is telling you he loves you every second of the day and every other day for the rest of your lives

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ like this post? send me a request!

[dilfscvm]

Fitzgerald Grant x Female! Reader

Hi! This is my own work, I wrote it and I much don't like to have it posted in other social media flatforms without my permission.

WARNINGS : This contains smut, if you don't like such content please skip it and don't read it. Vulgar words has been used also. Do excuse my grammatical errors and typos, correct me nicely or else I'll block block you. English is not my first language:)) Enjoy reading!<33

Special thanks to the owner of this gif<3

“I told you to stay away from him!” Fitz yells at you, he's in the pit of rage and you know you just crossed the line.

Making him jealous because you wanted to make him pay at what he did to you a week ago. He thought you got over it, but looks like his naughty wife has a better plan. And that is to make him angry. What's on his mind right now?

I'll get you bend over this dining table, fuck you and breed you.

That's what his brain tells him to do. You're his property, you're his and he doesn't like to share. And you absolutely knew it. That's why you make everything on planned.

"I'm sorry, but you really need to stop working." Fitz firmly stated, you're shocked at his sudden statement.

"W-what?" you scoffed.

"I said... I want you to stop working." he repeats as he slowly strode over you, like a lion ready to attack its prey. His eyes tells he craves. You stumped in front of him, face to face, nose almost touched. Eyes raged.

"I. Won't. Stop. Working." you said what is to be said, "I love my work, Fitz, I love working as a professor and you know how much I love my work and you can't just barge here in my office to tell me to resign and stay with you at the white house and fulfill my duty as a first lady. How did you get in here anyways?"

"You don't need to know how I get here, what you need to do is to get all your things and sign these resignation papers and let's go at the white House." his frown deepen, but you can see his eyes averting from your eyes to your lips, his breathing getting heavy as you argue with him.

"I won't resign just because you're jealous of my colleague who haven't done anything but to do his job." you continued. He scoff, he backs away a little shaking his head.

"Believe me, you will." and that's the last thing he said before he walks out your office. You stared at the door where he just walked out of, jaw drop, can't believe that your husband can do such things.

Well he's the president of the United States after all.

You're at his birthday party, talking with some guests. Not paying attention at your husband who's been such a attention seeker for you.

Since he made you sign those resignation letter you give him silent treatment that he deserves. He can't just manipulate you just because he's jealous.

“Dance with me?” you heard a voice from your back making you turn around. It's your colleague, the man Fitz don't ever want to see.

“Well why not.” you giggle and took his hand that been waiting for you to take.

You wanted him here. His name is Race, and he's a colleague, a married man but it's a private marriage. Fitz were a fool, he doesn't even let you explain it, and now, you will take advantage of it.

Race lead you to the dance floor where there's already some people who's dancing, including your husband who's with a old lady which you can recognise as the 40th president's wife.

Well watch me turn the tables around, darling.

“So, I bet he still doesn't know.” he smiled at you which you returned with a naughty smirk.

“This is a lesson, he has been fooling himself. You know that I would never cheat on him, I love him too much to break his heart.” you factly stated. He sighs as he slowly sway you, syncing with the music.

“I know that you cheeky minx.” he whisper that makes you both laugh together.

Both of you continued to dance and talk about random things up until Fitz finally notice, well actually you've seen him, he got his eyes on you. Watching you dance with the man he despise right now, and all he wanted to do were to yank you off him and take you right in front of everybody, specially him. You're playing with fire.

“Ma'am if you'll excuse me.” he politely smiles at the woman who nods with a smile. As soon as he turns around, his face contorts into a deep frown, raging eyes glued at you.

He walks with power, greeting every person he walk pass with a smile then immediately turns back into a frown as soon as he looks at you.

“I think that would be great, I like it and I know-”

“Mind if I steal my wife for a while?” firm, and low husky voice. Fitz says as he folds his arms across his chest. His face shows it all. Anger, rage, jealousy... Lust.

Well you were about to say that you like race's idea to surprise his wife for her birthday.

“Why sure, Mr. President.” race politely agrees as he smiled at the man, not paying attention to fitz's face, looking like he's ready to punch him.

Fitz did not waste anymore time as he possessively pull you away from him by your waist. He then pressed his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. Race sealed his lips containing his evil grin. Success.

You on the other hand, didn't give what Fitz wants. You did not kiss him back making him pull inches away from your lips.

“You like him don't you?” Fitz slowly said. You stared at him, slowly, a smile formed in your lips, mocking him. You know it makes him more hungry for you, and you like every bit of it.

Knowing your husband, he loves you so much, he's a very territorial, possessive, and obsessive at you. Well because you're his wife, and he needs you to know it.

“I love you.” you smiled at him. He'll say it back. No matter how he's mad at you. You know he will.

“I...love you too.” he whisper, as he look down on your lips, almost looks ashamed. I know you too well.

“Dining room.” you whisper at him before pulling away to walk out of the room.

“What?” he asks confusedly. His brows knitted, his signature look. You smiled evily, seductively bit your lower lip as you said;

“I know you like it anywhere, baby.”

Fitz is a kinky man, you must declare.

A knowing smirk were now plastered on his face making you giggle.

“Meet you there, baby!” you turned around and walk off.

Did he waste more time? Of course he didn't. He quickly walk off the room full of guest and walk towards dining room, where you waited there. Wearing nothing but a pair of black lingerie and a black stocking.

“Y/N-” his breath caught above his lungs as the view in front of him completely astonished him. “What's all of these?” he asks, as his eyes continue to hungrily Starr at your body up and down.

You hop ontop of the table and crossed your legs. He slowly walk towards you.

“A lesson.” you simply said when he's already standing right in front of you and tries to open your legs.

“A lesson for what?” he looks confused. You smirk and parted your legs, you hooked him with your legs on his hips and forcely pull him using it.

You put a finger on his lips and it just parted for you, “You know what you've done, Fitz, and now I'll teach you.. A.. Lesson.” you lean closer to him, he thought you will kiss him, so he lean forward to reach your lips but you pull back. “Ah, ah, darling... You need to be taught and punished—”

“Screw you.” that's all he got to say before he slam his lips on you, you tried to pull away but you're too intoxicated at his taste and scent. He kissed you hungrily, both hands on either side of your cheeks. Both with heavy breathings, both were panting, and moaning in each others mouths, as their tounge collide, exploring the insides of it adding more heat down your womanhood.

Fitz grab ahold of your stockings and rip it apart making you gasp into his mouth. But keep on kissing him still anyways. He pushed your legs more apart and start to kiss your neck. His hands were now roaming you body, specially down your area.

“F-fuck, Fitz.” you moaned as his kiss went down your cleavage, to your stomach up until he reached where you wanted him to be. He place a kiss on your lingerie, as his eyes stilled on yours.

“You can't punish me. I will punish you... For being such a brat, for ignoring me, for teasing me, you think you'll get away with it? Think again...” he snarled. You scoff at him. He just smirked. That devil smirk he always does when you both on bed. It turns you on.

“Fuck you.” you smile and press your lips on his kissing him ever so roughly as your hand went to his belt and undo it. He slapped your hand away and grab a hold of your ass and yank you off the table and put you on your feet as he turn you around, panting as he retrieve his breath, as well as you. He continue to kiss on your neck as he unbuckle his belt and push his pants down.

“Fuck you, you mean.” he chuckles, he ripped your panties and thrown it on the floor leaving you gasping. There's nothing can make you more turned on than you are now.

He latched his lips again on your neck as you grab ahold of his head pushing him more to it, moaning as you did. Fitz let his mouth open while he teased your hole with the tip of his enormous cock. Confusedly you is when he put his hand tightly on your mouth, but it didn't take long when he rams his cock inside of you with a guttural groan, trying to contain his own sounds.

You swear if he hadn't covered your mouth, you would scream. You never got used to his cock, up until now.

“I will never get tired fucking this sweet, tight pussy of yours, Y/N.” he whisper erotically in your ear, while you left there moaning in his palm, grinding your hips with his as he thrust slow but you can feel the roughness.

“Now tell me, my sweet, does teasing me satisfy you?” he asks as he slowly fastening his thrust, breathing were getting more heavier. You shook your head. “Liar.” he grunts, he let's go of your lips and push you down the table, making you lay your front to it as he grab onto your hips and continue his bruising pace. He pause a little when you began to moan, as much as he wanted to hear it, you must minimise your moans so no guest will get traumatised, “Please do be quiet for me, sweetheart, there's people outside. I don't want them knowing I'm screwing my bratty wife while I have party to be at. Wouldn't want to look disrespectful yeah?” he whispers at your ears. You only nodded, panting. “Good.” he smirk before he bit your ear gently. He then suddenly pushed in roughly making you squeal and him shushing you.

Fitz won't let you dominate him, we'll at least not now. He doesn't have much time for you to tease and edge him. But he will let you do that later, when no one's in the house.

He spread your ass to watch his harden cock penetrate your wet cunt, he couldn't help but whimper looking at the beautiful view. He sure is won't ever get enough of you.

No one can ever make his cock this alive, only you, his wife. You always turn him on even in small things you do. Like the way you walk, you talk, your smell, he gets turned on easily, if it's you who'll make him.

“Fuck, Fitz, I'm close.” you quietly moan, Fitz was too lost in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you against his chest as he thrust up to help you cum for him. He's nearing, as much as he doesn't want this to end, he has visitors to entertain.

“Darling, I'm gonna cum.” he whisper against your skin. His eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows were knitted, pleasure takes over him. “I know you want to cum too. Cum hof me.” he place a kiss on your neck.

“Fitz..” you moan, almost out of breath. His hand went to your breast and squeeze it tightly as he left his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Ah! Fuck!” your walls clamped around his cock that enough to edge him, and leave him moaning as you cum.

“Oh God, you feel so good.” he groans through gritted teeth. He continues to thrust in you as he breed you, filling you with his cum—wait he breeds you?!

“Fitz!” you yell at him. He frowned at you.

“W-what?” he says panting.

“You finished in me!”

Not to be rude but you both talked about having another baby and he said it's not the right time yet to have another one, and you agreed with it.

“So?” he asks confusedly. He's still inside of you, still thrusting very slowly as he just reached his climax. “You're my wife, I have the rights to do so.” he said, he slowly pulls away making you bite your lip. You turn around to face him.

“Yeah, but I thought you don't want another baby yet?” you ask, he sighs and pull you closer to him as he wrap his arms around your hips.

“Jerry's not a baby anymore, he's four—well he'll still remain our baby but I miss having a small human in my arms,” he chuckles. He place a hand on your cheek, a finger in your lips and continues; “I want to have another baby, I know that you also want another but I choosed to deny you. I'm sorry.” he whisper, your eyes were glistening as he rub your cheeks.

“Thank you, and I love you.” you smiled at him, which he returns.

“I love you too.” he says back with a chuckle. You giggle and tiptoed his lips. Kissing him deeply and passionately.

It didn't last long when he lift you up again and sat you on the table before he push you on your back. He pulls away with a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Fitz!” you giggle when he pulls a chair and sat on it before he pulls you by your tighs to the edge of the table. He smirk at you making you part your lips.

“What? I'm hungry.” he teasingly said before burying his head between your tighs leaving you breathless as you throw your head at the back, moaning as you did.

[chiaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

[imkazz]

saiki k is a golden anime.

i finished season 1 just now and. i have feelings. copy pasted from discord as a ranting to @peapodsinspace but i have to recommend the anime now.

i feel like the genre is comedy anime but. there are a lot of dark undertones to it. this is a teenage boy and he has to suffer every single day for powers he doesnt want. it impacts his everyday life and all he wants is to be normal but he doesnt know what normal is despite it being right in his face.

he pushes these people away but they continue coming after him. like real friends. normal friends.

they think of him and like him no matter what he does or acts or anything and. he loves them right back. he does things for them and they try to do things despite the fact that it typically goes wrong or he knows what theyre doing. he doesnt even care that he doesnt get acknowledgement because he doesnt want it.

so like.. i have to mention his friends. kusuo gives them grief constantly. always dissing them, always using their thoughts against them (such as teruhashi and her dislike for kids and bowling). because he can hear them. saiki kusuo not only gets his ideas about them from how they act and what they say, but also by what they think and that is a huge teller because they dont think anyone is listening. this is a private space that kusuo cannot even escape from whether he wants it or not and he is forced to hear and see whatever they think. ive joked about how he is always in gossip but. he literally cannot get out of it because he is such a kind person, that he wants to help.

and he gets to see all sides of them whether they show it or think it. kaidos letter. kaido defending yumeharu. hairos determination. yumeharus dedication. teruhashi and her utility of her own abilities. nendo with his mom and job and how he threw away millions of yen to save a drowning kid. kusuo is always there to see any part of that, and he gets a more in depth experience while choosing friends. should i mention that all those examples are things that kusuo didnt use his powers to observe? they were all things that he used his normal senses to find out or watch or overhear. it is very important to both kusuo himself along with the audience that he didnt use his powers to watch them be themselves and nice in all those situations as a normal teenager.

and i find it important that over time, and these experiences cumulate, that he slowly figures out that these are good, genuine people. sure they can be weird or perverted or cunning, but at the end of the day, they care about him and it only comes out so blatantly when they plan a surprise party specifically for him.

because many of us (hopefully) have wondered. what is inside our friends minds? and saiki has the answer. and he can see that they mean well. he may not understand most people and their emotions, but he knows some basics. and perhaps that could be enough to get him to live normally.

not to mention kuniharu and his convo with kusuo... despite some of the grief i give the man for constantly demanding his son do things for him, he knows his kid well. that convo is totally the pinnacle of their entire relationship, kusuos feelings, his friends.

kusuo mentioned that he doesnt tell his parents about new powers in fear they will demand more things and become lazy but. they care about him and know him. they understand his aversion to friends and know when to help him out or to push him to be around them.

he aided in that surprise birthday party but he also encouraged kusuo to go to his party that his friends threw for him. and he overhears that conversation without his telekinesis. because they actually know him and they all agree upon it. its not as in he is looking into their minds. he hears them through the door.

so he cant come to the conclusion that it was just a private thought that nobody wanted to voice aloud. no, they all agreed upon it. and they all verbally agreed to be nicer. just as his dad had said they would

it was weird seeing saiki kusuo smiling like that because he isnt one to do that and his friends know him well enough to know that (despite the fact kusuo avoids them!!) and they can all agree. they were all very happy to see kusuo smiling but they knew it jsut wasnt right

every time that kuniharu sneaks off to meet with the real saiki k they want, he is always trying to get kusuo to join them as himself

he is always encouraging his son to go hang out with his friends and he is still ready to go along with what kusuo wants. he was probably ready to go back to them after that last convo if kusuo still declined. but his words definitely got to kusuo because there arent that many people in the world who can understand kusuo so well

i know ive made fun of this but everyone around him sees him all wrong in their minds. they see the damsel in distress eyes or the idiot circle eyes. they hear a high pitch and weak voice. but not his parents. kusuos dad actually knows who he is and accepts him and loves him and encourages him to live out his dream of being normal by telling kusuo about what being normal is really like. to have friends who love you and go out of their way to try and make your day. kuniharu has to 'lecture' kusuo in order to get him to understand that the reason he was staying away was not because the classmates were 'bullying' or 'being annoying' from the kindness and love of their own decisions. it was because kusuo was scared of hurting them or disappointing them or even for them to abandon him.

and of course, that is a very common teenage feeling!! the fear of disappointing your friends- of course its normal!! saiki kusuo is a normal kid with not so normal powers attached to him.