#(my sleep schedule is forever ruined pray for me)

[notnosimp]

Aw hell nah they done busted out the sharpies 😭

[daughter-of-inklings]

Posting excerpts of my book as I get back into re-writing it after a long semester (🫠) to hold myself account to continue Camp NaNo:

Ch. 2 | To Ruin a Kingdom (pt. 2) WC: 687

“You’re making a grave mistake, Thalion. Think about it logically. Do you think you can devote as much time to caring for this child and for the crown prince as to your throne? Your schedule is already in tatters between peace treaty meetings to carve out this unstable peace of yours with the Lunnaelian kingdom, your dealings with your own countrymen, entertaining your citizens’ audiences, and whatever new drama is sprouting between Aeriel and your wife. Where would you find the time to raise another child, assuming we might ignore all that entails?”

“She’s hardly given me any trouble, besides a hectic sleep schedule. She seems rather content being on my person, or with Aeriel, she’s not moved from this sling most of the morning.  I.. admit, it’ll be a drastic change from my current lifestyle, but I was already committed to the idea with the arrival of my son. Elanoriel being here only advances the inevitable, or would you have had me abandon my son as well?”

“Your son would have nannies to wean him. His birth mother to tend to him. What does this baby have besides a world of troubles and the queen’s ire?”

“A loving home with her birth father?”

“You can’t in earnest believe you sired this child, much less with a god, simply because of an alleged promise any literate creature could have forged. The gods have no need of us, Thalion, they’ve never had need of us. We’re here to amuse them, mark their never ending lives with a semblance of time’s passing, entertain them in the afterlife by giving them a purpose. We don’t matter to them, there’s no need.”

“That’s a bit cynical, isn’t it?” he frowned. He lowered the baby girl into the sling, gently tucking her wings in behind her so that they wouldn’t bend out of form. Elanoriel questioned a coo up at him, grabbing his index finger with the whole of her hand. She grasped it and tugged, giggling and babbling up at the smile he gave her. 

“How can you say we mean nothing to the gods when we were made in their image? Made to feel as they do? How can you look at a baby’s smile, or a new day’s dawn, or the flowers at bloom, and not be moved by the experience when the gods made all the world’s comforts and joys for our sake?” 

“If the gods considered us equals, if they considered us at all, we would never know death. We wouldn’t know sickness, or sadness, or any ill that plagues mortal kind but evades them. We would live as they do, not be kept as their guard dogs outside bliss’s gate.” 

Thalion hung his head and sighed, “All creatures in the worlds die, Val, even the gods. To live forever without rest would be misery, and there’s no greater sadness in the universe than being left alone.” He looked to the child in his arms, smiling softly as she nibbled on him as if on a toy, “We were created by the Earth Mother to protect her children, born out of her love for them and the desire to keep them safe. We guard the gods not out of being duty bound, but out of our devotion and love for them.”

“A mutt dressed in silk is still a mutt, no matter how its master calls it.” She sneered, looking down her nose at him a moment before turning to the door. 

“It matters little how you preach to them, how much you pray, if the gods are unwilling to hear. They abandoned us, left us here, without a second thought, to die and to suffer mortal vices and pain. We owe them nothing— not our loyalty, our time, or our lives. Your actions don’t belong to just you, you are the kingdom in a man. I don’t particularly care how you do it, if you give it away or if you drown it— rid us of that thing before we all meet a poor dog’s death for your zealotry.” 

And she was gone without another word.

[green-ville]

Warnings: domestic Hannix. It's all fluff.

Summary: Third installment in the unplanned trilogy of Hannix. This is the final piece and it's summarized in one sentence. A Dagger reunion after Jake convinces Natasha to do something stupid.

_________________

"You wanna do something stupid?"

"That's a terrible idea."

". . .I didn't even say the idea, but somehow I know that you know what I'm thinking."

Natasha picked up three dragon fruit, putting it in the cart. "It's a terrible idea," she repeated and moved further down the produce section in the grocery store. Jake pushed the cart behind her, eyes sparkling, forearms resting on the cart as he trailed her.

"You totally want to do it," Jake claimed.

"I do not."

"Oh yeah you do. Babe, think of the tax benefits."

She snorted, head falling so her hand could cover her face. Her smiling face.

"See?! You're smiling. You totally want to do it!"

"I do not!"

~

"Hey I've been thinking – "

"Bagboy, no."

"How could you possibly know –"

"Because you keep bringing it up?"

"Orrrr, you've been thinking about it too and so it's always on your mind," Jake challenged, setting the plate down in front of her. It was tsunami season (it was always tsunami season in Guam) and so their windows were shut as sideways rain hammered down on their apartment.

Jake sat beside her on the table, a plate of his own in front of him.

She rolled her eyes. "Walk me through your plan Captain. Please."

"Well I'd want to go big, but I have a feeling you'd wanna go small, so we'll settle for small but make it a big deal."

"How, pray tell?"

"We tell basically no one and drop it at a party."

"A party?"

"Yeah."

"And what about family?"

"Admittedly, I haven't told my parents about you."

She high fived him. "My parents don't know you exist either!"

"Great! We'll surprise them too."

"That's a terrible plan."

"They pay me to be pretty, not to think."

"That's the exact opposite of what they pay you to do Bagman."

He shrugged. "So, whatcha think?"

". . ."

~

"I just don't understand why you want to do it."

"Tax benefits, screaming 'that's my wife!' when someone dishonors you – no, I don't want you to be dishonored, I'm just looking at the brightside of a terrible situation – owe. I deserved it. For some reason we're oddly compatible and quite frankly I don't see myself with anyone but you for the rest of my life. Where you go, I'm going. Even when you get sick of me."

Her heart thudded at the last bit. She stayed facing away from him, unable to look at him right now.

"Alright fine, I lied. It's not for the tax benefits. I. . .I never gave much thought to my future outside of the Navy until Miramar. Until I met you again and we did that. . .that thing that changed me forever. Then I thought about you for five years and it wasn't just sleeping with you again, it was seeing you, going on dates with you. Doing more. Now I'm here. Now I want the next stage."

She slipped on a beige button down over her tank top. She still couldn't look at him.

"You gonna say anything or have I ruined everything?"

If she wanted to get into work on time, she should put on her pants now. Otherwise she wasn't going to stay in her clothes for long and she'd likely be late to work. Bagman had off today, he didn't have to conform to schedules.

The less smart side of her won. This rarely happened. This used to rarely happen. It won a lot more since Bagman reentered her life. She'd be lying if she said she regretted it.

Natasha pivoted on her foot, a mask of no information. She pinned him down with her stare. He was sitting on the edge of their bed, lower half covered by a sheet, upper half exposed and golden from the sun.

She walked forward and his legs naturally parted for her to fit herself between them. His hands came to her hips and her forearms rested on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his head. She looked down at him, his open green eyes. Not open in the sense they were large, rather that they revealed so much to her.

He was being honest. He was joking with the tax benefits. She had finally gotten the real reason out of him and that was what she had wanted to hear. What she had waited so long to hear.

She tortured him with silence for a few moments longer, and then she couldn't keep her grin down any longer. It slid up and she saw the hope spark inside of him, could feel his grip on her hips tighten.

"I want a ring Jake Seresin."

"It's been in my dresser since the day after I arrived in Guam."

That grin became a smile and she kissed him, slow and long. That lasted three breaths before her hips were grabbed hard and she was yanked onto the bed, a body trapping her down.

She laughed against his smiling kisses, wondering what her parents were going to think.

~

"Holy shit, it's Captain Mitchell!" Payback exclaimed, eyes widening. The rest of the group turned to the newcomers.

And it was indeed Captain Pete Mitchell, walking up alongside Bradly Bradshaw.

Bradley made a 'what the hell' motion with his arms. "I'm here too."

"Yeah, but given the rest of the group, that makes sense. What the hell are you doing here Captain?" Payback asked.

The rest of the group being the entire party from Miramar. Fanboy, Halo, Yamaha, Yale. . .everyone was here. Everyone but Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote.

Maverick joined the group, smiling at them all behind his sunglasses. They were sitting outside of a bar on a patio, string lights hanging above them, a gorgeous beach scene playing before them. A volleyball net was calling their name but they were all respectfully waiting for their supposed host.

And drinking a lot in the meantime.

"I uh, received a letter from Hangman? Said if I find myself free to come down here and visit him?"

"Did we all receive the same letter?" Fanboy asked. "And why did we all listen? Like, we seriously flew 20 something hours just to visit Hangman? What's wrong with us?"

"My letter was from Phoenix," Halo said.

The group turned to her.

"What?" Rooster asked, head tilted.

She nodded. "Phoenix told me to visit her."

"But, why would she be here?"

"Her and Hangman weren't stationed here together, were they?"

"Shit," Payback cursed. "It's a funeral. That's what we're here for. Phoenix killed Hangman. He finally said too much and she killed him."

"Maybe we shouldn't all be wearing Hawaiian shirts then," Rooster said, looking down at his shirt. "Since when did everyone start wearing them?"

"You're not a trendsetter Rooster, don't even think it. These shirts are cheap and we all look great in them."

"Please, Rooster, a trendsetter? Remember when he wore jorts – "

Payback cut Halo off with an exclaimed, "I still have nightmares!"

A round of laughs circulated the group. Rooster rolled his eyes and Maverick smiled.

"You're all ridiculous –"

"Guess they just let anyone into Guam these days."

The party turned and there they were. Nope, not them. Coyote and Bob joined the group and seriously, everyone was wearing Hawaiian shirts. What was with these people?

"Bob, Coyote? Hell, Hangman trying to do a reunion or something?" Rooster asked, grabbing his hand and doing a manly hug. It was manly because it was a brief second accompanied by two rough pats on the back.

Bob got a fist bump which he seemed perfectly fine with.

"Hangman's here?" Coyote asked.

"Don't tell me, Phoenix sent you a letter?"

"Phoenix is here?" Bob asked.

"What the hell is happening?" Fanboy asked, looking around, entirely lost.

"What're you guys doing here? I haven't seen you all since Miramar," Bob said.

"What're we doing here? What're you doing here?! I didn't know anyone was stationed in Guam!"

"I'm not stationed here."

"Then what the hell are you doing here Bob?" Rooster asked, breathless with how unhelpful the younger man was.

"Talking with you."

"Jesus – Hey, Hangman!"

He finally appeared, the man that was somehow the center of attention without even being in the damn vicinity. He appeared from the walkway on the side of the bar, breaking the group norm by wearing a white linen shirt and beige pants.

Beside him, also wearing white, Natasha Trace. No one had ever seen Natasha in a dress before. It was a sun dress, hugging her chest and waist, flowing from her hips down. It was old fashioned, modest, skirt ending below her knees.

Her hair was down. Rooster didn't think that was possible.

"Oh my God. . .they're holding hands," Fanboy observed, eyes wide.

"They're not a thing. No way Phoenix lowered her standards."

"Aren't you all a sight for sore eyes," Hangman greeted, characteristic grin plastered on his tanned face. He was holding Nat's hand as they walked up the stairs to the bar, joining the others on the patio.

"Captain, thanks for being here," Nat said with a bright smile.

She was wearing makeup.

Rooster didn't even know she could do that.

"Anytime Phoenix. . .uh, what exactly am I here for?"

"A celebration," she answered. "Jake and I just got married. Let's go drink!"

"Woohooo!" Jake howled, and Coyote jumped on his back with a laugh, following them into the bar.

Bob smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah. . .It was a nice wedding. Their parents are gonna kill them."

Rooster blinked. He turned towards the rest of the group to see if they had heard the same thing he heard, and from the looks of it, yes.

Maverick broke through first and nodded. He was smiling, filled with disbelief, but smiling. "Well, I did not expect that. Did not expect that at all."

"Just wait," Bob said. "Nat's pregnant and hasn't told him yet. I'm supposed to record the reaction."

Rooster paled. "Oh my God a little Hangman. It's like all my worst fears are coming alive."

~

She waited for him. She waited a stupidly long amount of time. It was like the pilot was trying to piss her off. She walked faster than he could fly. It wasn't even that long of a flight, what was he doing, slowing down to let the birds pass?

Natasha checked her watch. She had checked her watch every minute for the past hour.

Her stomach cramped again and she gripped the arm rests, trying not to tear them off the chair. An eternity passed before the pain let up, and the sweat that was sliding down her pale skin was alarming considering the air conditioned environment.

The first people finally started coming through and Natasha stood. And then she tried to stand again because she fell back the first time. Acting like the incredibly pregnant woman she was, she stood, needing the armrest to stand, one hand holding her back.

God she was such a stereotype. Everyone knew she was pregnant, she didn't have to showcase it so much.

How long did it take people to walk off a plane? Were they taking time to sightsee? Did no one have anywhere important to be?

For the love of all that was righteous and holy, how slow could people –

There he was.

She smiled, raging emotions easing away.

He smiled when he spotted her, duffle bag in his right hand, a teddy bear in his left. She met him a quarter of the way there. He was able to do three times her distance giving her predicament.

"Hey there gorgeous," he greeted, setting down his bag and wrapping his arms around her. She pulled him down by the neck, hugging him as best as she could with the crockpot of a stomach in her way.

"Look at me. I'm so fat right now."

"Is this a moment where I'm supposed to deny it or support you because you're growing the heir to the Seresin name?"

She snorted, the hug ending but their arms staying around each other. His arms on her back, hers around his neck. "The heir? To the Seresin name? What is this, Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets?"

"If it matters," he said, kissing her hairline. "I think you still look sexy. Lordosis and all."

She punched him in the gut and he backed away, laughing.

"You're laughing now but my water broke like, several hours ago and my contractions are so at the 'get me to a hospital' stage."

His eyes widened and she laughed.

"Are you serious?"

"Oh yeah. I need a hospital." She needed a hospital two hours ago.

"Jesus, babe, shit!"

"Let's go pop a kid out Bagman."

"You're about to have our kid and yet you're still insulting me. What a woman."

"Damn straight."

[nextdoorharry]

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you?

-

in which you and harry are exes, but still remain good friends when you’re always there for each other. both of you can’t help but reminisce…in your head.

a/n: super sorry i haven’t written in FOREVER!! been crazy busy with school (still am) and i will get back to the writing grind when i’m not as busy, with that being said this is just a quick thing i was thinking of. also, no hate to olivia and harry’s relationship at all. pr or not, both deserve respect and anything written in this piece is solely for writing purposes only. no hate will be tolerated toward an individual. we’re all human.

-

it happened when you were on your way home from dinner with your friends. a call from harry. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for harry to call you, being exes and all. you both apologized after the breakup and agreed that you both couldn’t let 5 years of love, being close with each other’s families, and a pet cat all go to waste. you agreed upon being friends with him. still hang out here and there after the breakup, acting all platonic. you can’t help but have a glimmer of hope its a call wanting to start a relationship again.

“hello?” you said, one hand on the wheel, other holding your phone.

“hi love, sorry s’a bit late, was wondering if i can come over. it’s about olivia.” harry says. still sending you butterflies when he said the simple yet warming term of endearment. but once he said olivia, your heart dropped.

she’s beautiful, confident, and makes your harry happy from what the tabloids portray. the last time you and harry spoke was before he went off to LA, filming for don’t worry darling, a movie his new lover produced. still a few texts since then like “happy birthday!” “congrats on the grammy,” or “how’s the cat?” you two always saved catching up for in person. it was just your thing you kept during the 5 year relationship and after. it keeps things more meaningful at the time, rather than texting or quick phone calls.

“ah, olivia. isn’t she my replacement?” you teased while laughing. you hear a burst of giggles from the other end of the line. god you missed hearing that everyday.

harry on the other end of the line, heart aches a bit hearing you say that. no one could ever replace you. ever. you are so special to him. if only it wasn’t for his team making it difficult for him to ease down on touring for a bit for you. you asked for one thing from harry, which was to start settling down. you both were only getting older and the talks of marriage and kids were frequently becoming the topic of discussion with family. a year and some after the breakup, which happened to be during quarantine, where he had so much time on his hands without you, he reflected on what could’ve been and how stupid he was for letting you go. you were always so patient with him. going to his shows, god awful dinner parties with industry people, changing your work schedule just to fit into his. you asked for one thing. and instead of fighting for you with his team, he instead sided with them, and let you go.

teasing not dying down, harry goes, “someone keeps up with me in the tabloids, eh?”

it’s the fact that he’s not wrong. you remember that tabloid very well. when the first pictures of harry and olivia came out in an article titled, “harry styles and olivia wilde new romance? is y/n replaced?”

your heart was hurting.

“of course i am. keep having to make sure my name is finally out their mouths.” you joke. “i’ll be home in about 15 minutes if that’s okay?”

-

you pull into the driveway already seeing harry sitting on your porch chair. he waves at you and you get out of the car, walking up to him. he stands up and greets you with a bear hug.

“missed you, y’look nice. where’d ya head out to?” he asked, hoping and praying you weren’t out on a date looking like that. he knows you only wear a red lip when its date night. his mind filled with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. whereas he has no right being there are pictures of him kissing, cuddling, and whispering to olivia on a yacht in italy. all for the cameras. his stomach turns. that was supposed to be you and him. on a yacht on italy. except leaving the display of affection for the bedroom.

“on a date” you say blatantly.

his heart drops. and lets you go from the hug. lying through his teeth he says, “ah really? happy for ya, you have to tell me about it, hope it was with a good bloke.” he says lightly.

“i’m kiddingg, was out for dinner with friends. mel got engaged by the way! was celebratory dinner for her.” you say, unlocking the door, letting harry in.

harry sighs in relief. “that’s good! m’happy for her, pass on my congratulations.” harry follows you into your kitchen, sitting down on the counter stool, watching you making his favorite “calm down” drink, loving that you remembered how he likes it. he didn’t even have to ask you to make it. you just know its what he needs right now. he can’t help but ponder that it should have been you. it should be your friends out for your celebratory dinner for your engagement with him.

you pass him his tea, knowing he’ll only take a few sips of it yet keep it in his hold for warmth. you were on the other side of the counter across from him, making a mini cheeseboard you two can snack on while talking.

“so..what happened?” you ask, heart not ready if you can handle what he’s about to say about his new lover.

“s’just so complicated. originally it was supposed to be a pr stunt for the movie. but now i don’t know how the pr team messed up so badly but they did. no one is really believing it. everything was executed poorly. it sucks because it’s her team conducting everything which means i barely have a say in it. i look like the bad guy being portrayed as a home wrecker, and she’s not doing anything about it! s’like she’s enjoying it. the kissing, the night outs, etc. she knows that if my team did have a say, it would have been over a while ago.” he breathes out. he’s been wanting to rant to someone for so long about this. he also just wants you to know that he’s not into her. it’s all for show. he’s still all about you. he wants to make that crystal clear.

you nod your head listening to everything he’s saying. body feeling uneasy filled with jealousy when harry says she’s enjoying the intimacy they have to do for show.

“well, did you talk to her about it? or talk to jeff at least? there has to be something he can do..?” you ask.

harry sighs, “i’ve tried so hard. jeff said nothing they can do about it. and he’s telling me not to mess with olivia because her team can do more damage than good with my name. not that s’already ruined.” harry rubs his face with his hands, feeling stressed.

the way he’s acting is familiar to you. early on in your relationship, when you two were a freshly new couple, you guys wanted to be completely private. during that time, with harry and the band’s album coming out, his management made him do pr stunts like these. he was as stressed as he is now. you were so new to dating something in an industry. he didn’t want to scare you away. but you understood. you get it. and you still get it as he’s speaking.

“hmm..if i can recall, back when you had to do a stunt with kendall on the yacht, m’pretty sure it was the same situation. with kendall’s team being difficult, your’s not having much of a say. do what i told you back then, stand your ground, harry. tell olivia like you did with kendall. also kendall’s team at the time played dirty, yet they still were understanding with you and got someone new for a stunt. olivia’s team will probably get someone new as well. and how badly can they ruin your rep? everyone knows you’re the nicest person who wouldn’t kill a fly. and tabloids are tabloids. would you rather have a few bad headlines about you or would you rather deal with a stunt for what? another year now? that you feel uncomfortable with?” you state. smiling a bit because you know harry knows your right, he’s smiling a bit too. he knows you love being right and debating, pulling out facts. that’s what you always did during an argument. which is why you were always right.

man. why couldn’t he stand his ground with his team. why didn’t he take your advice back then? he should’ve sided with you. not his team. why is he always so scared of them?

self-loathing, harry breathes out a laugh, “always have to be right don’t ya? you know what to say every damn time,”

“what can i say? the lady is always right.” you say, smiling proudly while cleaning up the remains of the cheeseboard you and harry snacked on.

“thanks y/n, really, i know i can always come to you with this stuff,” harry states. looking at you with his piercing eyes, meaning every word he said.

you smiled and nodded, cleaning the kitchen a bit. it started to pour early on when you guys were having a chat about his situation, hoping silently it would come down faster so harry has an excuse to stay, you offer nonetheless. “why don’t you stay back for a bit, hm? s’pouring out there, only gonna get worse. we can watch something?”

“love island?” harry suggests.

“thought you’d never ask.”

-

few gasps and scoffs at some of the islanders and their drama later, you slowly were drifted off to sleep. harry, sitting on the other sofa from you, peaks to see if you’re still watching. his face was in awe. he misses this. domestic nights with you, chatting away eating in the kitchen, then watching something afterwards. only difference is that you two are on different sofas. whereas before you’d be coddled under his embrace. he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. rain still going on, technically he can still go home. driving in the rain was never an issue for him. but he’ll always use an excuse just to be with you.

-

iMessage: Olivia Wilde

1:34 AM - I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it.

that was one part harry left out of the story. he hooked up with her.

-

ahhhhh!!!! lmk if you guys want a part 2!!!

[hajimes-erect-ahoge]

Diagnosis: Love Sickness!- Chapter 1

In the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles, 16 students have been imprisoned as part of a nonsensical dating game in which their objective is to find themselves in a budding romance with another student! Although reluctant to admit so, Shuichi Saihara has had his eyes on another student for quite some time now... Will Monokuma's new motive, the Despair Disease, be the driving force that pushes Saihara to finally confess his love? Or will he stay forever single in this twisted dating game?

Stay tuned to find out!

~~~~~~~~~~

Monokuma introduces the new motive, the despair disease!

ao3

The Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles was a rather interesting place, though its facilities were currently being used for a particularly strange purpose. Sixteen students, eight boys and eight girls, were confined within the walls of the academy for some sort of dating game, supposedly for the entertainment of the outside world. The cherry on top of this strange situation was that their captor was a small, animatronic black and white bear who walked and talked as if he were human. Monokuma, as the bear dubbed itself, would appear every now and then to inform the students of the structure and layout of the academy or to introduce some strange motive to encourage the blossoming of romance amongst them, but otherwise left them to their own devices. Having no choice but to mingle and make friends with one another, the students explored the academy and made use of their surroundings.

Speaking of which, the students imprisoned in this academy were not necessarily normal, either. Each and every one of them had an Ultimate Talent, making them special and distinct from one another. Their talents varied greatly from one another, even including something as far-fetched and sci-fi sounding as the Ultimate Robot, but they all managed to get along with one another and cultivate rather interesting friendships.

One exception to this, however, was Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective. Being naturally introverted and reclusive, he had a difficult time forming friendships with the other students, at least initially. Seeking to help the young detective out of his shell, two other students named Akamatsu and Momota attempted to befriend him, slowly introducing him to their small social circle and eventually the rest of the students. The two of them were social butterflies, flitting gracefully between the social groups that had formed, providing a nice complement to Saihara’s more reserved nature. Their positive and radiant energies bounced off of each other and onto Saihara, causing him to feel more empowered and confident than ever before. 

It was a gradual process that allowed Saihara to become more sure of himself, transpiring over the course of their first few weeks at the academy. The culmination of said process was when, at Momota and Akamatsu’s behest, Saihara removed the black cap that he desperately clung to in order to avoid eye contact with others. His lifestyle had undergone a complete transformation since entering this academy, changing for the better as a result of the efforts of his new friends. Although his tendencies to doubt himself still persevered at times, Saihara was grateful for the progress he had made to better himself and make new friends.

But there was something missing.

As he spent more and more time trapped in the academy, Saihara noticed an increasing number of students crossing the boundary from friends to lovers. At first it was only Chabashira and Yumeno, followed by Iruma and Kiibo, but when both Momota and Akamatsu entered relationships Saihara couldn’t help but feel as if he were missing something. Although he was happy that his two closest friends were in happy, fulfilling relationships, Saihara longed for the intimacy and closeness that came with having a partner. It had been over a year since his last relationship, leaving him finally ready for a fresh start with someone new.

In all honesty, Saihara would be lying if he said he didn’t have his eyes on anyone in particular. But despite the fact that he had grown leaps and bounds in terms of becoming more secure and sure of himself, Saihara knew that he didn’t have it in him to confess his feelings for another person. In the past, it had always been various girls and boys confessing their feelings for him, not the other way around. On the lucky occasion that Saihara had actually returned the other person’s feelings, it would lead to a new relationship for the both of them. But that had only happened once throughout his whole life, and Saihara wasn’t sure if he was ready to enter another relationship and have his heart eventually be broken again. For now, all he could do was admire from afar and pray that the embarrassment when his feelings came to light wasn’t too much to endure. 

~~~~~

Three weeks had passed since the imprisonment of the students had begun, meaning that it was time for a new motive to be announced. In accordance with their schedule, Monokuma had made an announcement instructing everyone to report to the gymnasium bright and early. Having no strong reasons to disobey, the students all gathered in the gymnasium awaiting Monokuma’s appearance. 

Suddenly, Monokuma sprung up on top of the stage at the head of the gymnasium, drawing everyone’s attention. Although it was practically routine by now, there was no getting used to an animatronic bear appearing out of thin air. The murmurs and idle chatter in the room came to a stop, all eyes focusing on the small bear in front of them.

“Gooood morning, everyone!” Monokuma’s familiar voice rang out, chipper as ever. “I hope you all slept well, cuz I certainly did!”

“Huh? Do robots like you even need sleep?” Shirogane curiously asked, a twinge of doubt lacing her words. “I mean… You are a robot, right?”

“Why don’t we just ask the Ultimate Robot himself?” Ouma butt in excitedly, balling his hands into small fists as his eyes sparkled brightly. “Hey, Kiiboy! Is it true that robots don’t need to sleep at night like humans do?”

“I will not tolerate your robophobic remarks, Ouma-kun!” Kiibo fumed, crossing his arms angrily. “While it is true that I do not require sleep, there is a function on my body that allows me to-”

Kiibo was cut off by Ouma audibly yawning, signaling his disinterest in their conversation.

“Boooring! I don’t care about your stupid sci-fi robo functions!” Ouma complained.

“Quit lyin’ you shitty shota!” Iruma scowled, jumping to Kiibo’s defense. “Just the other day you were buggin’ Kiibo about exactly that, so don’t even try pulling that shit!”

“Hmm, was I? I don’t remember…” Ouma lied once more, irritating Iruma even further. “Either way, an ignorant slut like you shouldn’t be-”

“Aaargh, that’s enough!” Monokuma thrashed about, waving his paws in the air angrily. “I didn’t call this meeting for you guys to bicker like little kids! You’re ruining the moment!”

A silence befell them, allowing Monokuma to continue.

“I’m introducing the new motive and that’s final!” He announced, composing himself. “Now, since you idiots were too busy arguing, I bet you didn’t even notice that you’re one student short!”

On cue, everyone began looking around in order to confirm Monokuma’s words.

“Atua says that Shuichi is the one missing!” Yonaga declared proudly, clasping her hands together.

“Oh, yeah! About that...” Momota began, “He wasn’t feeling good when I went to check on him this morning, so I figured it would be fine for him to sit this one out… He looked pretty bad.”

“Did you provide him with any medical attention, at the very least?” Tojo asked, voice laced with concern.

“Err…” Momota glanced to the side, a guilty expression adorning his face. “I might’ve forgotten about that when the announcement was made…”

“So you just left my beloved Saihara-chan to die?! How cruel, Momota-chan! And here I thought the two of you were all buddy-buddy or something!” Ouma cried, crocodile tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“T-That’s not true! We were going to check on him as soon as this was over! Right, Maki Roll?” Momota sputtered, struggling to defend himself.

“...That’s right.” Harukawa agreed, fiddling with her pigtails in response to Momota’s pet name for her.

“Upupu!” Monokuma laughed, lifting his paws to cover his smiling face. “Looks like everything is going just as planned!” 

“...Just as I thought.” Amami concluded, bringing a hand to his chin as he spoke his thoughts aloud. “Saihara-kun’s illness must have something to do with Monokuma’s new motive.”

Akamatsu gasped in surprise, frowning as she processed the implications of Amami’s statement. “Is that true, Monokuma? Did you do something to Saihara-kun?”

“Upupupu! I call it…” He paused dramatically for effect, “the despair disease!”

A wave of silence washed over them, the students carefully pondering over Monokuma’s words.

“Diss-pear duh-seeze…” Gokuhara sounded out, attempting to understand the information he had been given. “Gonta not sure he understand…”

“Nyeh…” Yumeno groaned, voicing her confusion. “Am I the only one who’s lost?”

“Tell us, Monokuma…” Shinguji spoke cautiously, “What is this ‘despair disease’ you speak of?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely I might as well tell you all!” Monokuma grinned, preparing to explain himself. “The despair disease is a highly contagious illness that affects each and every student differently, depending on the strain that they contract! The symptoms can range from physical ailments to complete personality changes, so I’d be careful if I were you!”

“Personality changes…?” Harukawa repeated to herself, turning to address Momota. “Did you notice anything unusual when you checked on Saihara earlier?”

“Now that you mention it, he was acting kind of weird…” Momota admitted, putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. “Alright, I’ve decided! Me and Maki Roll will watch over Shuichi until he gets better!” He declared boldly.

“What about the two of you, then?” Hoshi questioned, raising an eyebrow. “If this disease is as contagious as Monokuma just said doesn’t that put the two of you at risk?”

“Don’t worry about that! I, Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars, am naturally immune to all types of sickness! I could never let something as silly as being sick bring me down!” Momota boasted.

“You’re such an idiot…” Harukawa twirled a loose strand of hair between her fingers, a faint smile visible on her face. “But don’t worry about us. After we make sure Saihara is feeling alright, we’ll leave so that we don’t contract the illness.”

“Good luck, you two!” Akamatsu encouraged, flashing them a bright smile.

Momota gave her a thumbs up, heading out of the gymnasium with Harukawa in tow. One by one, the rest of the students exited as well, leaving only Monokuma.

“Upupupu…” He laughed to himself, grinning knowingly. “Let’s see how they deal with this...”

~~~~~

After arriving at Saihara’s dorm, Momota knocked on the door while Harukawa waited.

“Yo, Shuichi! You holdin’ up in there?” Momota asked, speaking loud enough for practically every dorm to hear him. “Me and Maki Roll came to check up on ya!”

Saihara faintly called out to them, informing them that the door should be open. Momota and Harukawa entered, immediately noticing a sick-looking Saihara sitting up in bed.

“Damn, you still look pretty bad…” Momota observed aloud, stepping closer to him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m so tired, Momota-kun…” Saihara drawled, flashing him a coy expression. “I was up all night thinking about you…” He smiled innocently, fingers grazing his lips as he watched Momota’s concerned expression morph into one of bewilderment.

“Huh?” Momota recoiled, taken aback by Saihara’s sudden advances. “Shuichi, what are you talking about?”

Before Saihara could answer, Harukawa approached, placing the back of her hand on his forehead in order to check his temperature.

“He has a crazy high fever…” Harukawa stated, moving to pull her hand away.

But before she could retract it completely, Saihara took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers.

“Your hands are beautiful, Harukawa-san…” He gave her hand a squeeze, looking up to make eye contact with her. “Just like the rest of you.” Saihara smirked, a beguiling expression dressing his face.

Harukawa was quick to pull her hand away, wiping it on her sleeve. “And your hands are sweaty.” She stated flatly, shooting Momota a quick look. With a sigh, she continued. “So, let me guess. You have a strain of the despair disease that makes you flirt with everyone you come in contact with. Correct?”

“Despair disease…?” Saihara repeated, “You’ve got it all wrong, Harukawa-san…” Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, the heat of his fever adding to the already prominent flush on his face. “The only disease I have is love sickness.”

“Do you want to die?” She threatened, expecting to wipe the smirk right off of Saihara’s face. But he continued to smile as he averted his eyes, another witty remark hanging off the tip of his tongue.

“Uhh… Can I talk to you for a minute, Maki Roll?” Momota spoke in a hushed voice, pulling her aside while Saihara simply observed. “Shuichi is acting kind of… weird, right?”

Harukawa rolled her eyes, another sigh escaping her lips. It was just like Momota to be this dense, especially when it came to flirting. Nevertheless, she responded, speaking in a low voice.

“Yeah…” She agreed. “Definitely weird.”

“So, what should we do?” Momota glanced at Saihara, who was simply staring down at the bedsheets. “I mean, someone has to take care of him… Right?”

“I don’t think we should leave him alone in this state…” Harukawa admitted. Despite Saihara’s odd behavior, it just wouldn’t be right to leave a sick person all by themselves. “I guess… We can keep an eye on him until nighttime.”

“Hmm… Alright! I trust you!” Momota gave her a small pat on the arm before turning back to Saihara, who seemed to be in a daze. “Listen up, Shuichi! Maki Roll and I are gonna be taking care of you until you feel better, so you better snap out of it!”

“Aha… Snap out of what?” Saihara responded, laughing a bit to himself.

Momota and Harukawa shared a suspect glance, before resigning themselves to their fate.

It was going to be a long day.

[petersasteria]

My Angel - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom x Osterfield!Reader

Requested? Yes! By @petersholland​​​​

Hamilrequest #37

“I may not live to see our glory...”

Since you’ve been gone, Tom has been struggling to be the perfect single father out there. He claimed that he didn’t need any help even though everyone can see that he needed it. Tom wanted to figure things out for himself and while that’s great, he knew it was okay to ask help from time to time. Although he knew this, he still refused to ask for help.

Your two children have been Tom’s top priority and it was hard for him to be a single father and an actor at the same time. Your youngest, Khalil, started kindergarten and your eldest, Megan, started year 3 and Tom didn’t want to ruin that especially when she told him that she loved every single second of school.

Today was one of those days where Tom felt like shit, because he missed Megan’s talent show and he accidentally threw Khalil’s ‘gift’ for him (which was just crumpled tinfoil covered in glue and blue glitter). He honestly didn’t know what to do, because you weren’t there to help him.

“Fuck deadly illnesses.” he said to himself out loud.

Tom couldn’t sleep so, he decided it’d be the best time to finally store away your things in the boxes he bought and labeled two months ago. He didn’t have the heart to put away your things before, because he knew he would break down as soon as he would open your closet.

Tom stood up from his desk and walked to the corner of the room where the boxes were stacked. He took the top one that was labelled “TO KEEP” in bold letters.

He set the box on the floor at his side of the bed. He walked to the closet and opened it with a heavy sigh. He took all of your clothes that were hung and threw them on the bed. Next, he grabbed your folded shirts and put them on the bed as well. He went back to close the closet but he stopped when he found a notebook that he’s never seen before. He took it and closed the closet.

He sat on the bed opened the notebook and read the first page: Y/N’s Thoughts.

He chuckled and flipped to the next page.

Note to self: Use this notebook to write down important stuff. It’s like a diary, but at the same time it isn’t. This might come in handy for marriage and parenting x

“Maybe she got this when we were engaged.” Tom said to himself as he flipped through every page. He found little anecdotes and a few marriage tips that you thought would help. He also found the recipe to his favorite dish and he remembered the time you cooked it for him.

He also found what you wrote after Megan was born. 

Note to self: Omg Tom and I are officially parents! This means it’s time to lose sleep. Tom and I got this under control, though. We have each other ALWAYS. Haz wished us luck and honestly? We’re going to need that. Charlotte was really happy that it was a girl, because it meant she won the bet between her and Haz. Can’t believe those two made a bet, but I love them. Future Y/N, make sure you do the same when they have kids x

Tom read this and didn’t try to hold back his tears. He flipped through more pages and he eventually reached the time Khalil was born. 

Note to self: Tom and I are parents again! Being a parent is tiring and draining, but I love it. I don’t know if Tom loves being a parent, but I think he does. He’s a great father and I have no doubt that he’ll be a great father to our son x

Tom smiled at that. There were times when he would doubt himself, but you would always be there to assure him that he’s doing an amazing job as a husband and father. It just hurts that you wouldn’t be there to remind him that anymore.

Tom flipped through more until he reached a letter addressed to him.

Dearest Tom,

By the time you read this letter, you know that I’m gone. We both know that I wouldn’t live that long as soon as we found out that I was sick. I just want to say thank you for keeping me happy especially on my final days when I felt that I was going to go already. 

You’re the best husband I could ever ask for. Seriously. I know you have your doubts, but please keep in mind that you’re the best husband and father. I will forever keep that on my mind and heart. The kids and I are so lucky to have you. Now that I’m gone, I trust you to take care of the kids.

I want you to raise them like we planned. Although I won’t be around to see them for all their successes and first milestones, I trust that you do whatever it is that’s good for them and will continue on doing so until they’re old enough to stand on their own.

This notebook can help you through anything and everything. There are some recipes here for you and the kids. There are also tips. 

Khalil hates broccoli. Slice the broccoli into tiny tiny pieces and put it in his food. Trust me. He won’t notice a thing. Keep it a secret between you and me, okay? Make sure he finishes his food, because we both know he doesn’t finish his food. Read him bedtime stories. If you go to the back part of this notebook, I made a schedule of his bedtime stories of what you should read on a specific day.

Megan loves going to the playground every Saturday morning. Take her there for at least an hour and a half. Watch her closely, okay? One time she pulled another girl’s hair when she didn’t get her turn at the swing. So please watch her. After that, take her out for ice cream. Her favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry. 

Keep Taco Tuesday alive, Tom. Cut up some fruits and pack it in their lunch. They love it. I suggest you cut up the fruits before you go to bed and put them in a Tupperware and put it in the fridge.

Tom, just because I left doesn’t mean that I want to. When it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Please know that if I live long, I’d spend it with all of you. But even if my time on Earth was cut short, I believe that even if without me by your side, the three of you will be able to withstand all the problems our family will face. I know you’re strong. I know you can push through anything, Spidey.

Always remember that you’re not alone. I will always be here in every decision you’ll make. From the moment I said my vows, I put my faith and trust into  whatever it is that’s good for your family and for our marriage.

I pray that the Lord will always guide you and keep you out of harm’s way. I also pray that you won’t forget that you live for our children now. You’re the anchor that keeps them steady.

Just because I’m gone doesn’t mean that my love for you is gone too. Don’t ever forget how much I love you. If you need a reminder of how much I love you, I kept my diary from before we started dating. It’s around the house somewhere. My embarrassing diary entries are written there about how much I love you and how much I freaked out when you asked me out when we were 17.

If you ever find someone that makes you and our children happy, go for it. You have my blessing. I’m not sure if I’m okay with it. Maybe I’ll be jealous or not. Depends HAHAHA! All jokes aside, I love you enough to let you be with someone new who makes you happy.

I will always love you and I only want what’s best for you and the kids. 

‘Til we meet again, love.

Forever yours, Y/N xx

-

The very next day, Tom went to visit your grave after taking the kids to school. He had your notebook with him when he got out of the car. He walked to your grave and sat in front of it in silence. He hasn’t been visiting, because of the pain. He saw a bouquet of fresh flowers and smiled.

“Harrison visited you, I see. You know, he misses you so much. He actually visited us last week. He said he missed the kids so he took them to the zoo.” Tom said.

“So, um, I know you’re listening. I found your notebook last night and it really helped me. Everything has been shit recently and your letter really helped me. I also did the fruits thing after reading your letter last night. It really saved some time this morning. No wonder you sleep late.” Tom chuckled.

“I just came here to tell you that I won’t let you down and I’ll do my best to be a single dad to our kids. Also, the dating someone new thing? I don’t think I’m going to be up for that. You and the kids are enough for me and I meant what I said when I told you that you’re the only one for me.”

“I really miss you, Y/N. The letter made me realize that it’s totally okay to move on, because I know you’ll be here by my side. It’s also reassuring that you still love me, because that’s enough for me to be strong.”

Tom stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants, “When we first started dating, I told you that you were my angel. You really are my angel, Y/N. Between you and me, you’re the real hero. I just play one.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? I promised your brother I’ll meet up with him at the park today to walk Tessa and Monty.” Tom smiled. “I love you.”

He walked back to the car and felt a gust of wind blow in his direction. He didn’t know if he was hallucinating or not, but he could’ve sworn he felt the wind embrace him and he could’ve sworn he smelled your perfume. It caused him to stop in his tracks and close his eyes to feel the moment that only lasted a few seconds, but to him it felt like minutes.

When it was gone, he opened his eyes and smiled to himself, because he knew it was you telling him and showing him that you loved him.

* * * *

this took me two days to write bc i wasn’t in the right state of mind to write some angst yesterday and yes, this was supposed to be out yesterday sksks

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland​​​​​​​ @peachmaybnx​​​​​​​ @superheroesaremytea​​​​​​​ @ella-whyte

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​​​​​​​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​​​​​​​ @rubberducky-jrr​​​​​​​ @petersholland​​​​​ @osterfieldnholland​​​​​ @miraclesoflove​

[nomolosk]

Snapshots (AU Yeah August 2020)

read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655623/chapters/62626303

Day 8- Secret Dating

Marinette had no idea what she was doing or even what was going on. One moment she was convinced that she’d gravely offended Gabriel Agreste, who had rudely fallen on top of her while she was sleeping the night before, and the next she’s feeling disoriented and confused because the man she thought was Gabriel Agreste actually turned out to be his son, Adrien Agreste. 

Marinette really felt like that was something she should have known. Why didn’t she know that before? Adrien was a public figure! His face was all over billboards on a regular basis! He featured in every Gabriel magazine, and his ads were in most other magazines as well. She should have been able to recognize him, or even remember that Gabriel had a son, and she should have noticed that the man last night looked too young to be Gabriel himself. She remembered all of that as soon as the man introduced himself properly, so why hadn’t she remembered it before?

On top of that confusion, was the fact that not only was he not offended by last night’s mistake, he was the same hot model from the cafe! Marinette knew she was scatterbrained sometimes, but surely even she couldn’t forget something like that!

Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. Or Paris, at any rate. And it was probably due to some kind of akuma. This one, though, was apparently very subtle. Marinette continued to make small talk with this unfairly hot and inexplicably interested model while she tried to sort out what was going on and how she really felt. The manipulation of her own emotions wasn’t entirely out of the picture if there was an akuma involved. Then someone else called his name and annoyance and distaste flitted over his face before he smoothed out his expression into something polite.

The woman who’d called his name was probably another model, someone he worked with- she was tall and beautiful and projected an air of, not just confidence, but possessiveness. She latched onto Adrien’s arm as if she was a cat, and he was a scratching post. Marinette’s eyes flicked to his face again, but while his expression didn’t waver, he was looking anywhere but her- which in itself was a huge warning sign. He was clearly used to this behavior and as clearly wished it wasn’t happening.

“Adrien! Fancy meeting you here!” The brunette simpered, completely ignoring Marinette.

“It should hardly be a surprise to you, Lila,” Adrien answered calmly. “I’m sure you overheard Nathalie giving me my schedule for today after last night’s photoshoot.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at the emphasis on ‘overheard,’ turning slightly away from them to rearrange some of the jewelry on the table, trying to decide which piece would best suit the woman. She had warm coloring, so gold or brass toned, maybe copper… Marinette suppressed a smile as Lila sputtered a bit.

“You know I’m just concerned about your health, Adrien,” Lila finally cooed at him. Marinette could practically hear her pout. “Your father works you awfully hard, and I almost never see you outside of work.”

“If you’re so concerned about it, perhaps you should be a little more cooperative during our photoshoots so they don’t drag on for forever.”

The woman named Lila laughed, “But Adrien, you know your father relies on me to make sure all our pictures together are just to die for!”

By this time Marinette had finished straightening, and had picked out something she thought would suit the woman. There was currently a mania for ocean-themed jewelry, and an eight-stranded gold chain bracelet with an octopus charm would suit Lila. She picked it up and turned back to them, just in time to see Adrien looking pointedly away from Lila as the woman in question tried to plaster herself to his side, with her face tilted up in what was probably supposed to be an inviting way.

Marinette blinked at this blatant display, but she’d already decided to interfere, so she spoke up anyway. Ironically, Lila’s current position made the octopus charm even more fitting for her. Marinette could practically see the invisible tentacles she was trying to wind around her fellow model.

“This bracelet would suit you, Madame,” Marinette said, in her best salesperson tone. “The delicate gold chains compliment without overwhelming, and the charm in the shape of an octopus is the latest trend.” She draped the bracelet over a stand she’d made herself and held it out for her to see. 

Lila looked at Marinette blankly, as if surprised to find her standing there. Her mouth opened a little, and she actually allowed an inch of space to open up between herself and her prey. Marinette noticed but tried not to show her satisfaction. She was conscious of Adrien turning his head to look at her, too, but she didn’t take her focus off the woman in front of her.

“Oh! Ah…” Lila’s posture and expression both softened, conveying apology. “I’m so sorry. How rude of me to ignore you like that.” One hand flew to her chest, presumably in embarrassment, but Marinette had seen that maneuver too many times before to believe it. She was simply trying to draw attention to her ‘assets.’ “I just saw my Adrien here, and everything else vanished! You know how it is when you’re in love,” Lila simpered, throwing an adoring look towards Adrien.

Adrien snorted. “We are not dating,” he said firmly, making eye contact with Marinette and gesturing between himself and Lila.

“Well… not officially,” Lila in a lowered tone, with a coy look and a wink.

“Not officially, and not at all,” Adrien clarified. “Not even a little bit.”

“That’s right!” Lila said brightly, smiling and winking again. “Not dating officially, or at all!” 

Yet, despite agreeing with Adrien, she tried to cozy up to him again. Adrien leaned away from her.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. This could be a clever plot to throw sand in the eyes of the paparazzi, but she hardly counted as paparazzi, and it was hard not to notice the thinly veiled disgust in Adrien’s eyes. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she heard herself say. “I know all about that.”

----

For the second time in two days, Adrien was surprised to the point of being stunned by this woman. Most people, when confronted by Lila’s well practiced acting and lies, rolled over and believed every little thing out of her mouth. That was why he was so determined to make it clear to Miss Dupain-Cheng that there was nothing between him and Lila. Yet Lila, of course, had managed to make his firm declaration sound like nothing more than a cover up. She was trying to imply they were dating in secret, and he had been just about to deny that categorically when the woman he had a real interest in took charge of the conversation.

“Oh, don’t worry. I know all about that,” she said with a sweet smile. “I was trying to be discreet earlier, but now that you’ve shown you recognize me, I can be more open. Right, Adrien?”

Adrien quickly nodded, even though he had no idea what this woman was planning, and turned to see Lila’s reaction.

“Recognize you?” Lila asked in some hesitation. Adrien had to give her credit for acting. Anyone else would have put scorn in that question, trying to put this interloper in her place, but Lila didn’t know what she was up against, and was playing it safe with a sweeter tone.

“Of course!” MDC said (at some point he should really learn her first name). “Adrien talks about you all the time- you know, how professional you are at photoshoots, and how you play along like you really do like him. We’re both grateful, you know. In fact, why don’t I make you a gift of this bracelet? It’s the least I can do after you’ve selflessly taken so much of the heat off him.”

Adrien felt like proposing on the spot. He watched this woman whom he barely knew, whose night he had ruined, wrap the thin bracelet in tissue paper and produce a small velvet bag with her initials embroidered on it. She folded the tissue and put it inside the bag, drawing it shut, and then held it out to Lila with a kind smile. And all the while, Lila stood there, dumbfounded, with nothing to say for once. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for him.

When MDC held out the little pouch, Lila reached for it, inadvertently releasing his arm. Adrien flexed it subtly to shake off her touch.

“Well… thank you. Although... I’m not really sure what I’m thanking you for,” Lila said, actually sounding genuine for once in her surprise. MDC raised her eyebrows.

“You, covering for Adrien and me, of course,” she replied, with the warmest of smiles.

Lila choked. Then she whipped her head around to glare at Adrien. Adrien called on all his experience and produced the warmest of smiles, though he felt another little zing of surprise himself. But he was more than happy to roll with it. 

“You really are the best of friends,” he said, digging deep into his minimal store of fond memories for inspiration. “M and I…” he trailed off as he floundered for something to say to support the story she was building.

Once again MDC came to his rescue. “It’s so comforting to know Adrien has someone to ward off the opportunistic until my brand gets off the ground and we can go public. Naturally, neither of us want anyone thinking I’m only dating Adrien to get to his father, or his father’s company.”

“Right,” Adrien corroborated, sending MDC an even warmer- and far more genuine- smile. “M’s designs are amazing, and I want her to get the recognition and acclaim she deserves, instead of having people think Father is either using me to get her on his design team, or that she’s using me for the same purpose. Plus, you know how adamant Father is that I remain at least outwardly ‘available’ so my fans will stay happy and keep buying his clothes.”

Lila’s mouth tightened ominously, but once again, M (dang it, he really, really needed to learn her first name- maybe she had business cards around here somewhere?) defused her in the only possible way- she praised her.

“So really, thank you. I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You know, most girls would totally take advantage of a situation like this, but… I know Adrien and I can trust you.” MDC smiled warmly and opened her arms, hugging Lila before she could do anything about it. 

“Think nothing of it,” Lila said breathlessly. Adrien knew her well enough to know that her social instincts were currently at war. She probably wanted to verbally cut M into bite sized chunks, but M was also a person currently offering the praise and adoration she craved. “Of course, I... you know I’d do anything for Adrien.”

“Well, I appreciate you, too,” MDC said, finally stepping back. “We’ll definitely have to get together some time. Oooh, maybe you can join us for dinner some time! It’ll look less suspicious if it’s a group of three, don’t you think? Besides,” M said, with a little wink, “sometimes it’s just as well to have a chaperone, you know?”

Adrien had to hide a huge grin as Lila choked for the second time and started coughing. “Are you okay?” he asked, faking concern. “And oh hey, isn’t that Claudio over there?” 

Adrien knew he was far from Lila’s only target, and the handsome Italian model was the perfect distraction.

“Oh yes, I think it is. Well, I guess I’ll just go over and say hello,” Lila said, once she recovered. “I know we were supposed to have lunch, Adrien, but I don’t think I can pass up the opportunity to speak my native language with someone instead.” She sighed, falling back into her usual persona. “I get so homesick sometimes.”

“You poor thing!” MDC cut in. “Yes, of course, go on! I’m sure Adrien would be only too happy to let you cancel at the last minute.”

“Well, it would look good for my cover, but I guess I’ll just have to make do with my actual girlfriend,” Adrien said, daring to move closer to MDC and reach out to gently touch her arm. She blinked before smiling up at him. Apparently this small display of affection was too much for Lila, though.

“Thank you for the bracelet,” she huffed and marched off, slowing and shifting to a swaying walk as she approached her alternative target. As she did, there was an almost imperceptible shift in the air...

@auyeahaugust

[sunkissedpages]

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Twelve || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: sjadslikjdl it’s between teaser and full chapter length but I wanted to get it out before like 3am :/ 

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, angst 

What I listened to while writing: Pray For The Wicked by Panic! At The Disco

Word Count: 1.5k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven

Tom’s lips were softer than you expected.Warmer too. For a fraction of a second you let yourself get lost in the kiss, closing your eyes and tilting your head ever so slightly. You even brought your hand up to his head and nearly let your fingers graze his curls before you remembered how pissed off you were at him.

You pulled back and pushed him away with a little more force than you intended, causing him to stumble backwards. “What the fuck was that, Tom?” you demanded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, already turning red. “I didn’t mean-“

“You what? Thought you could just shut me up by kissing me?”

“It sort of worked.”

It took everything in you not to backhand your boss into next year. “I’m putting my resignation in tomorrow morning,” you stated flatly and started walking ahead of him, despite not knowing what direction you were supposed to be headed.

“Wait, y/n,” he called after you. “I really am sorry!” When you didn’t turn back he jogged to catch up with you. You kept your pace and refused to look at him. “Please don’t quit, I’m begging you.”

You stopped again. “Why shouldn’t I? You obviously don’t respect me. And relax, Watts isn’t going to be that pissed at you.”

“It’s not just that!” he protested. You raised your eyebrows, waiting. “No one can do this job better than you.”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t need me.” 

“We both know that’s not true, though,” he admitted. “Please don’t leave.” You were surprised by how genuinely upset he looked. “Please.”

“...I’ll think about it,” you replied softly.

Tom relaxed visibly and started walking again. You trailed behind him now, lost in thought. Everything still felt fuzzy. You could still feel Tom’s lips on yours and you wondered if he could taste your rose flavored lip balm when he kissed you, if he knew you’d noticed his fingers brushing your hip, if he had sighed into it on accident, if he really wished he could take it back.

You watched him walk with his hands in his pockets and wished, for the first time ever, that you could go back to hating each other like you had a few weeks ago. Everything was easier when you couldn’t stand the sight of him. Now it was so much more complicated.

Tom really had to fuck everything up for you, didn’t he? You weren’t just thinking about quitting because he was an asshole, you were also worried that someone had seen him kiss you. If anyone found out, Marvel would make sure you never worked in the film industry ever again and you didn’t think you could handle that. You figured that at least if you quit before they fired you, maybe they wouldn’t get the chance to blacklist you.

Walking in to a mess of a hotel room only added to how overwhelmed you already were. Tom’s clothes and your dress from the night before were still on the floor in heaps. Clutter was everywhere. You stood helplessly in the middle of it all and felt tears well up in your eyes. They inevitably spilled over and began to run down your cheeks and you didn’t do anything to stop them. You’d reached a breaking point.

Tom turned his head at your sniffling, but didn’t move to comfort you. At least, not in a traditional manner. As if he could read your mind he began straightening the room up wordlessly, putting pillows back on the bed and clothes into suitcases. You joined him, stuffing things you weren’t even sure were yours into your suitcase until the floor was spotless. Once the room was clean you both sat on the floor, breathing hard, but not speaking.

Tom showered first, then you. You got ready for bed robotically, going through the motions without thinking about what you were doing. It wasn’t that late, but neither of you felt like being awake anymore. Without any discussion Tom took the armchair again while you climbed into bed alone.

The two of you hadn’t lain awake in silence for One Whole Night, but it was just as uncomfortable as it had been before, if not more. You could hear Tom’s steady breathing from beside you and wondered if he was still thinking about the kiss like you were. 

Part of you wanted to tell him to stop being ridiculous and just get into bed with you, but the other part of you understood why he hadn’t already. Ironically, he was even closer to you in the chair than he would have been on the bed since they were right next to each other. You could reach out and touch him if you wanted to.

At some point Tom drifted off, but you never did. You stared at the ceiling wondering what you should do. Stay? Go? Even if that kiss had meant nothing it could ruin everything just like that. Your dreams would be snatched out of reach in the blink of an eye.

You rolled over to look at Tom who was sleeping peacefully in the chair. You wondered if he was dreaming. You were jealous he was able to sleep at all.

Morning came, but you barely noticed because you were still lying on your back consumed with doubt. Your body was exhausted, but your mind hadn't let you rest for even a moment. The sunrise had slowly filled the room with light and you were sure it had been beautiful, but you hadn’t paid attention.

When Tom’s alarm went off you rolled over and shut your eyes and hoped he’d buy that you were sleeping. You weren’t ready to talk to him yet. He got up from the chair and started moving around the room quietly. You listened as he changed and brushed his teeth, getting ready to go to the gym, going about his routine as if nothing had happened. You heard the movements stop for a few seconds and thought he might be checking to make sure you hadn’t woken up, but you couldn’t tell. 

When he left, you rolled back over onto your back with a sigh. It was going to be a long day.

You were out of the room before Tom came back and made your way down to the lobby instead. You figured if you were going to avoid him you could at least take advantage of the continental breakfast. They had a waffle maker, but it didn’t work very well. It burned the edges while leaving the center gooey and under cooked. You still ate them anyway.

Nothing on twitter indicated that someone had seen you and Tom last night so you were in the clear- for now. You couldn’t even imagine what would happen if a picture of a girl in a yellow sweatshirt kissing Tom surfaced on the internet. Not only would you be fired, blacklisted, and probably sued, you would probably have to change your name and never show your face in public again.Your life would be over. Just the thought made you lose your appetite.

People had started gathering around the check-in desk, getting ready to go to set so you hurried and finished your breakfast so you wouldn’t look pathetic eating alone. You already sort of had that reputation anyway, there was no need to add to it. 

Tom was early this morning and everyone tried not to act surprised as he made the rounds and said his good-mornings before ending up next to you. You handed him a copy of the day’s schedule and he traded you a cup of coffee in return.

You sipped it and were surprised when it tasted perfect. “How did you-”

“I asked Haz,” he replied before you even finished the question. “So you’re staying?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

You made a face. “Yes I did, what are you talking about?”

“You were faking this morning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“God it’s a good thing that I’m the one lying about sleeping around because you’re shit at it. And come on, you weren’t even snoring.”

You looked at him in horror. “I snore?”

Tom smirked. “Gotcha.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger. 

“Just because I was faking this morning doesn’t mean I didn’t sleep at all.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” he asked, smile falling away to reveal a look of concern.

You brushed him off. “Doesn’t matter.”

He looked a little hurt. “It does matter. But if you don’t want to talk about it-”

“Tom, I could get fired,” you interrupted, finally saying what was really on your mind. He blinked in confusion, caught off guard. “You’re the one who said if anyone found out we were even sharing a room I’d be fired and blacklisted, and that’s without any proof of anything happening! What do you think would happen to me if anyone saw what happened last night?”

“What happened last night?” a familiar voice asked from behind you and you and Tom both whipped around to see Harrison standing there, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched. You were fucked.

It’s been...a week to say the least, sorry again that it’s so short. Imma try and make it up to y’all before next week :) Tom is still an asshole, what’s new lol. Anyway lmk what you think, I always appreciate feedback!!

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[lovemesomesurveys]

Have you ever done a craft that you found on Pinterest? I did dabble with some water painting a few years ago during Christmastime, actually. I made a few different Christmas poster things inspired by ones I saw on there. Like, they had different Christmasy quotes or song lyrics and some had pictures of Christmas trees or something. Do you get scrapbooking layout ideas from anywhere? I don’t do scrapbooking. What do you do to wipe off the dust from ordinary life? I’m always cleaning under the keys on my laptop. Are you content with mystery, or do you wish you knew everything? Uhh. I wouldn’t want to know everything. I like continuing to learn and discover new things. There’s also things I never want to know. I also like mystery in the sense of surprises. Like, I hate spoilers and I don’t want to know what any presents are before I open them.  What do you do when someone irritates you on Facebook? If I see an annoying or stupid post I just keep scrolling.

Do you think your hair looks better natural or dyed? I think it looks much better dyed red.  Do your parents disrespect you? My parents are respectful, pretty chill people. I mean, we get in disagreements and bicker sometimes, who doesn’t, but I wouldn’t say they disrespect me. Have you found that love covers over a multitude of sins? I mean, you can love someone but that doesn’t excuse their toxic, bad behaviors. It doesn’t mean people can treat you or others cruelly just because you love them. What was the last Grand Opening you went to? Hm. I don’t know if I’ve ever been to a grand opening. Not that I can think of at the moment. Do you have anything coming up tomorrow? Nope. What’s one thing that makes your stomach hurt? I’m lactose intolerant, so having dairy will definitely do that. Otherwise, I just have stomach issues and get stomachaches and pains for whatever reason. Ever had a living nightmare? These past few years in particular. Do you have a lot of haters? Ha. I’m so irrelevant. I’m sure I’m not even on anyone’s radar for them to feel that strongly about me. Outside of my family, I feel people are indifferent to me. I don’t make a big impression. 

Do you think successful people always come with a pack of haters? Yes. There are people who can’t stand to see successful, happy people. They want to try and tear them down. There’s also just a lot of trolls who think it’s fun to hate on people. Do you have supernatural abilities? Uh, no. Do you kick yourself when you make mistakes? Do you say, “I wish I would have” a lot? All the damn time. There’s so much I wish I did and didn’t do and I’m always kicking myself so to speak for it.  Are you doing the most you can with your life? Not even. I’ve completely let these past few years pass me by as I just waste away.  Do you let people walk on you? I’ve had it happen in the past. Are you ok? I always just wanna start belting out to MCR when a question like this comes up. Do you have a friend you miss right now? Former friend, yeah. Do you ever write snail mail to your friends? I don’t have any friends anymore, but nah dude. I’ll send you a text or hit you up on social media if I need to reach you, ha. Do you make your life look better than it is on Facebook? I guess in a way because I don’t post personal shit. I used to post like sad quotes and lyrics and images back in the day, but I stopped doing that years ago. I very rarely post anything anymore and when I do, it’s something funny or #relatable that I saw and shared to my timeline. Or a check-in to somewhere if I think it’s of interest. Mostly; though, I’m just on there scrolling through my feed and “liking” things here and there. Do you feel God’s presence regularly? Yes. Do you experience chronic pain? Yes. Do you believe God loves you and is rooting for you? I know He does. Have you ever dreamt that you were falling? Ugh, yes. Worst feeling. I hate that feeling of jolting awake.  What would your dream career be? I have no idea. Are you a daydreamer? ”You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.” Do you daydream so much that you wonder if there’s anyone who doesn’t? Uhh, I wouldn’t say that. My daydreaming is more me zoning out and dwelling  about things from the past, thinking about current things, or imagining up scenarios.  Do you ever just sit and daydream for awhile? My mind just wanders off like that. Is the snow falling where you are right now? It doesn’t snow here. :( What is your favorite part of nature? The beach, particularly the ocean. Though, we all know I’m not about getting into the ocean. That deep water and the creatures that dwell down there aren’t for me. Just thinking about that... :O I do love looking out at the ocean and just watch/listen to the waves crash in and out. It’s very, very calming. I let my thoughts get swept away with the waves. I also love the cool, ocean air and smell. Do you wish you could be a world traveler? Yes. Do you wish you could live in another city for a year? Ooh. That would be nice. I actually want to move to another city permanently. What city would you like to visit? There’s countless places I want to visit. What has been your favorite city that you’ve visited? Various ones in California.  If you had kids, would you take them to Disney World? Pfft, I’d go now if I could. I don’t need kids for that, ha. I’m the big kid. I love Disneyland, so I’m sure I’d love Disney World as well. Have you ever stood in line to get a Disney character’s autograph? Yeah. As a kid and as an adult, haha. My favorite was a few years ago when we got pictures with Chewbacca and Darth Vader.  Do you own a birthday crown? No. How long does it usually take your hair to dry? Do you dry it naturally or blow-dry it? I just let it air dry. It takes forever, though. Do you straighten your hair? Not anymore. I used to. Do you sleep with a teddy bear? I have a few stuffed animals on my bed that always just sit on my bed. Would you consider yourself a free spirit? No. Do you need to clean out your closet? I actually just did that a couple weekends ago. Do you watch YouTube videos regularly? Yep, everyday.  What’s your favorite coffee shop? Starbucks. Is your Pinterest page cluttered? I have a few pinned things, but I don’t use Pinterest much for that. I use it to find and save photos for my phone background, typically. Do you want to start a collection? I have a few collections. Are you a role model? Would you consider yourself a good example? No. Are you a leader or a follower? I feel like I’m just sitting on the sidelines watching the crowd go by.  Who’s your favorite person? Not a person, but my doggo. (: Who have been your favorite American Idol contestants? I liked a few from the first few seasons like Adam Lambert, David Archuleta, Tim Urban, and of course, Kelly Clarkson. Did you used to name your Barbies? Yep. What unnatural hair color looks best on you? I love dyeing my hair red. Is your life boring? ”I need another story, something to get off my chest. My life is kind of boring, need something that I can confess.” Do you usually feel better around people or alone? Depends. I like spending time with my family, but I also need my alone time. Is there a broken relationship in your life that you want to fix? Oh, like the friendships I ruined a few years ago because I’m a shitty person? I wouldn’t even know where to begin at this point. Like...what could I even say. I know they’re hurt and probably hate me, and I don’t blame them at all. They deserved more than I what I gave them. The more time goes by, the worse it is. I still don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to try and fix things. Like...I don’t think things would change and we’d end up in the same spot because I’m still a mess. And I feel horrible for feeling this way, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to. :X I wish I went about things differently, most definitely, but having some people out of my life now is the worst thing.... Do you ever think about Heaven? Yes. Are you ready for Heaven yet? I pray it’s not my time, yet.  Are you afraid of where you’re going to go? I pray I go to heaven when it is my time. Do you have a tree outside your window? Yes. Do you feel better now than you did last night? I feel the same, really. Is your sleep schedule messed up? Ohhhh yeah. It has been for years. It switches up, though. Still all bad, but different. Like, currently my bedtime is like 5, sometimes 6, in the morning and I sleep until 1. Does your body have any problems with it? It has a lot wrong with it. Are you doing ok spiritually? I’m working on strengthening my relationship with God. Have you taken any huge risks lately? No. Silence or songs? I don’t like complete silence ever. I need something, whether it be the TV, YouTube, or music. I sleep with the TV on for that reason (and for some light because I can’t have it completely dark either). Tea or coffee? Coffeeeee. Books or movies? I enjoy both. Do you ever watch your favorite movies from when you were a kid? Disney movies are timeless. ^If you were going to do that, what would you watch? Something Disney. Do you ignore rude people or do you call them out? I’ll talk shit about them to myself or someone I’m close with like my mom, ha. I don’t confront people. Well, unless it’s someone I’m close to who says or does something rude. Do you have trouble staying organized? With my life, yes. It’s showing externally now; though, too. My room has gotten cluttery and I hate it. It never used to be that way.  What has been your most favorite adventure? All the trips I’ve taken. What has been your greatest mistake? I’ve made a long list of ‘em. Are you happy with your life right now? No. Do you take anything to make your feel better? ”I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay I know it’s all in my head.” Sorry, ya’ll know I’m always breaking out into song. Anyway, I currently don’t take any anti-depressants or anti-anxiety pills. Are your parents still together? Yes. What color socks do you have on? White. Are you under a blanket right now? I have one wrapped around me. Are you hopeful? :/

[strawberryybird]

So whats your favorite thing about each of your fe3h favs? Anything you could just go on a long rant about for any of them? or interactions between them that you wish had happened or wanted to happen.

Waking up in the morning and going through all of the drunk blogging and “-thank-u-for-weathering-my-deep-need-to-be-liked-and-given-attention-off-main-I-guess” if this isn’t a whole mood on its own I don’t know what is. Anyways it sounds like you had fun and it was definetly fun reading everything. I hope you are feeling okay the day after everything. And to tack on a random question which fe3h character would you want to get drunk with if it was just the two of you?

Hi Hello!! thank u for enjoying my drunk blogging !!! and for the asks!!! (and the lovely comments on my fics actually hi there ur wonderful!!!) i’m currently cursing the damage i’ve done to my sleep schedule and suffering under my (truly deserved) hangover lmao ;p apologies u don’t get drunk me, only uncaffeinated hangover me, but we talk to the same degree and make the same spelling errors lol

ah yes.. im a fountain of moods (all of u still with me here are saints hhhh)

ok content time:

the second one first: i absolutely want to get drunk with ferdinand von aegir. the man’s a hop, skip and a vodka shot away from a mess. i love him. he’d be full of conversation and would buy the rounds every time as a true nobleman should !! he’d probably be really good at instigating drinking games but horrible at playing them.. i love party gay ferdie von aegir.

i’m going to LIMIT the faves i list because truly i love them all very much but i have to at least pretend i have some restraint and i don’t want to make this even More of a wall of text it’s going to become . SO 

edit: ok i started writing this at like. half ten pm. when the fuck did it become monday. 

edit edit: Disclaimer time: these are my conclusions and my conclusions alone. I’m not saying I’m objectively right or correct. I’m very much approaching this from an English Lit-ish point of view because that’s just how I look at a lot of media. I’m not asserting my opinions or conclusions as the only viable to interpret this media, and if anything I say offends you then I am sorry, it was not my intention but I acknowledge that I have hurt you. This is not the exhaustive list of my thoughts on the whole thing, there’s a lot more depth and detail I didn’t go in to.

My favourite thing about Edelgard is the Everything, but notably I really love her proud nature and how in VW it quite directly gets her *spoilered*, and in CF it’s integral to her success (bc it’s her own rigidity within herself that keeps her standing i think) and I Like Tragic Characters (and it’s very elinor dashwood). because it’s one of the qualities that can throw her character into a villainous light & it’s really interesting !! but at the same time.. it’s not quite ‘pride’ purely, and it’s kinda the wrong word. it’s some mixture of determined/stubbon, anger, self-reliance, and that really hard veneer of personality u develop when you’re around people who aren’t healthy for you to be around, and the very very critical need to be right about the choices you made because the weight of the  consequences would kinda ruin you if you weren’t. (the dean winchester effect huh) and wrap that up together with a big scoop of ‘i believe my way is right’ (’and my way Has to be right’) and then u get a lot of what i LOVE about Edelgard’s character

My favourite thing about Dorothea is really how she was the character that Hated the war. genuinely the contrast between white clouds dorothea & timeskip dorothea Breaks My Heart EVery Time I See Her !!!!! that and Spoilers!!! (her last words in AM unrecruited is edelgards name and i literally had to stop and cry about it for five minutes.) she’s one of the characters that post-war doesn’t have a Massive political stake in the war - like there’s her anger towards the current class system (another reason i bloody love her PLEASE give me angry feminine characters) but i think it’s her bonds with edie (or byleth&whoever if recruited) that keep her actually fighting in the war & it’s kinda different and i like that (actually i think she parallels/sends up/contrasts really really nicely with mercedes in that way)

my favourite thing about Marianne is just everything. how she finds worth within herself if you play VW (and the very very harrowing hc that she didn’t if you don’t), how she’s full of a quiet rage for the crest system but you eek it out of her as you play the game. how she’s still loved by the deers despite her appalling mental health (fight me on that canon) and the game essentially has her ‘save’ herself by finding worth and life within herself. i love her so much ok. (i also love her because she committed identity theft.. she and i share a name with the second dashwood sister oho (but i don’t use that name on the internet hhh) (also because my favourite shakespeare play is king lear (no really it is), my birthday is in red wolf moon too, i used to have very long hair i wore in a plait most days for school, little 11 and 17 year old me acted Exactly like white clouds marianne did & genuinely i love marianne von edmund to pieces but God it hurts to see her in game sometimes bc her journey mirrors a lot of mine & i love this character. so much.) WOW that was a lot. am i sure im not still drunk

so claude is not only one of my favourite characters in the whole damn game, but also shares the name of one of my favourite painters so i simply have to love him ;p however i can’t give a proper opinion on him yet because i haven’t finished playing deers yet :( but !! i love how (as is with all the lords) he has a veneer of personality to him, but in contrast to Edie where it’s quite seemless with her actual personality, Claude’s veneer of personality seems very opaque and plastered on. i may or may not just be wildly imagining things but he’s a very different personality in his lower supports with Lysithea than he is in his B support with Marianne, for instance. like, i love characters that are obviously a lot more socially intelligent than i could ever be, and claude is *chef kiss* BEAUTIFUL ON EVERY LEVEL.

i’d wax lyrical about Ingrid too but honestly there’s many better people out there with the good ingrid content than i could do. shortly, i love the New Take on the pegasus knight archetype she brings, and i really like her perspective on femininity !!! she’s such a good character & she brings so much to the game and to the pegasus knight character too!!!!! she’s such a bright personality and altho i wish so many of her supports weren’t centred around make-up (hhh dorogrid fans i pray for you), i think she’s really going to pave the way for whoever’s next in that character slot. (like, you can’t tell me she’s not an offshoot of Phila from awakening lmao)

no ok i’m adding in Hubert because i love this vampire man. i really really love the devoted servant archetype and we all know i love edelgard’s tragedy. and i love hubert. so much. the way he enables edelgard in pretty much everything is just so so interesting to think about, and i love his intensity about it. he’s like the ever present reminder that edelgard’s will kinda has to work otherwise the potential consequences of her being wrong are personified in hubert imo. it’s only touched on in VW in his letter but like. god i wish we got more but it’s a wonderful starting block. i love his comic relief as well, he’s such a fun character to have !!!! and also i have so many hubert fics in my bookmarks that just Get him. i love hubert. oh i love hubert.

i’m going to cut myself off there because . that’s just a LOT. 

as for characters i would sell a limb to have them talk to each other, honestly it’s Edelgard/Marianne. (and only 51% because of all the projection i have going on with those two ok don’t at me i  k n o w). that support chain would be too powerful and honestly i wish they had one becuauese it would have gone so Hard about what Edelgard was doing and what Marianne thought about it, and how they connected over it & they probably would have had their supports set over cups of tea or smth .. it would have been amazing. 

(but i’d rather have nothing than an awakening-level-content support where they talk about eating fucking bear meat instead of talking about how they grew to trust each other with and their ability to save the fate of the world HUH AWAKENING. (i’m salty about fredrobin forever)

also hilda/dorothea supports . we were robbed. they’re best friends and you can’t actually tell me otherwise. they run the disaster bi chat of garreg mach. honestly i just would Love a support chain for them that starts with them talking about self care routines and something really small like accessories or perfume and it goes into how self-esteem and how dorothea has to find the same worth in herself as hilda so easily can. (hilda’s the queen of self esteem she’s a babe) and in CF they could have dialogue and then we cry about it. and in SS they talk about how they both chose their place with Byleth and not at edie/claude’s side like i’m just free balling here it could be Anything and i’d love it. 

also big shocker .. dorothea/marianne supports . they both hate themselves in their profile CAN THEY PLEASE CHAT. 

also i accidentally fell in love with the claude/edelgard ship and i desperately need them to interact on the same level that edie and dimitri get to because.. aren’t there supposed to be three main characters huh intsys .. and like i get what the game goes for with two of the lords embroiled in a personal war against each other at the heart and the third actually finding something close to the truth because he’s not involved in age old grudge matches but at the same time That’s one of the things that really really falls flat for me in the game. dimitri’s villain is edie, edie’s villain is big dragon wife, claude’s villain is the lack of communication that everyone in fodlan suffers from apparently. lack of communication and lies. ymmv with what im saying rn but i would have preferred if all three lords had strong personal ties to each other and in Each Route it was brought up. or just snip dimitri’s dialogue out of CF because i have beef with how that WHOLE moment went down on so many accounts hhhh honestly it makes me angerey to think about lol

.. back on topic- can the lords pls talk to each other because it would be SO interesting in white clouds and i like seeing how their personality presentations clash

also . can i marry manuela yet. my crops are dying here.

.. im so sorry about this but it’s midnight and i’m too tired to edit so. have this. thank you so much for the questions!!!! very kind (and brave) of you to ask me!!!!! i had a lot of fun writing all of this & as always if anything you didn’t quite /get/ i’m happy to re-explain myself!! :)

[vanillacup-cakes]

This is, by far, the latest I’ve ever written one of my year round-ups, and by far, the messiest post. 

2019 was a year guys, so have a really messily written year round up. If I try to tidy it up we’ll be here until December. 

TL;DR

2019.

2019 was a year of love; happy, sad, somewhere in between. 

My heart got broken. 

Hera got married. 

My friends are in love. 

At the end of the Barat, in Pakistani wedding traditions, the bride goes home with the groom. Any events before that the bride always came home with her family. But for this main event, after the actual marriage contract has been signed, after all the festivities, she goes home with the groom. We took it in turns to hug Hera goodbye, I pushed myself to the back of the queue being the crier of the group. 

When I was talking to Hera’s cousin she mentioned that some people have questioned why this little bit of the wedding celebrations causes such emotional responses from the bride’s family and friends, after all, we’ll see her again the next evening for the reception. And it’s not like she’s gone forever, she has just moved out of her parents house. She said that the reason for this was not because we will never see her again but because things will never be the same from that moment on. Not in a good, nor a bad way, it just is. 

Changed. 

Life changes and when one of your close friends get married it changes your relationship with them. Not that you or they love you/them less, not that you or they are less important, not that you or they care less. It just changes. 

it doesn’t even have to be marriage. 

In October, one morning in Peak District I was stood in the kitchen of our rented apartment and in front of me were two of my best friends with their other halves going on about their day eating their breakfast. It was a picturesque little scene I tried to capture as a photo, I was scared of ruining the moment though and my sly camera skills were terrible so I just have a blurry evidence of that moment. Throughout that holiday I caught little moments of the two couples, little moments I can’t really describe but you know it when you’re around it, little moments that made my heart swell and hurt at the same time. Because things are different. Things have changed. 

Change isn’t bad, it can be really, really good. In fact I hope it’s a really, really, really good change for all of them, I just need a moment to accept that we’re no longer in our early 20s and our lives are going to change a lot before more.

2019 was a year of love; the good, the bad, and the bittersweet. 

I started 2019 falling asleep as the fireworks went off. We had gone out for dinner earlier that evening with a friend from work and his missus, to a nice fancy restaurant where desserts are always perfect. I’m not one to go out on New Year’s so I worried that we’d be out long but, fortunately for me, the other couple we’re not up for a long one either so, after dinner, we tried to see if we could grab a couple of drinks in a bar before heading home but, as it was NYE, we had no luck. The other couple went home, we tried a couple more before we gave up and called it a night. 

We were falling asleep when the fireworks went off. In our 20s, supposed to be the prime of your life, and I was cuddled up and happily falling asleep before the new year rang in. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

January meant Hamilton and birthday boardgames and lots of ballroom classes. I think this may have been the year that we also started, or tried to, regularly schedule in time for face masks. 

Then it was suddenly February and I received the best Valentine’s day card in existence, I continued to dance, finally saw a Footlights performance and even caught a show put on by CUMTS. Cirque du Soleil was okay too… 

March was when Amy, Izzy and I decided to start our own tradition, every year, no matter what, we’d get together; us and the boys, with the dogs, or kids or goodness know what else life gives us, we’d meet up. We’d meet up somewhere in the UK for a long weekend, where we’d go for walks and cook dinner, and just overall relax and unwind and catch up with each other. Each year starting that October at the Peak District. 

March was when I forgot my water bottle at our last dance class and we had to turn the car around. March was when I got no sleep and still chose to go to work the next day. 

For the three months we had worked in the new building together we had never bumped into each other in such close proximity, and then, suddenly, there he was coming out of the showers as I tried to find an empty stall to check how I tired I looked. I smiled, I can’t remember if I said anything but my heart dropped. 

March was when I got my promotion and all I wanted to do was tell him. 

I gave him his stuff back and I gave him his birthday present; an embossed leather notebook, dotted not lined, perfect for both writing and drawing, he was a design engineer after all. 

In July he wished me a happy birthday. 

In my head, people judge how much it hurt me when we were only together for nine months. But no one has the right to dictate how you feel.  

Back in January, Hera started sending me dance videos, videos she wanted us to learn for her wedding.

By April, the Kate, Olive, Sam and I were in the full swing of Friday on a Monday: Dance Edition. We’d cook a spicy meals (the spice increased in level as we went along, yoghurt or cream became more for taste than for firefighting) then we’d dance. Every Monday, where possible. Sometimes we’d skype Charley, sometimes Charley would be with us in person. 

As per usual we celebrated birthdays not in the correct months; Kate’s November was in January in form of birthday boardgames, face masks and hand massages by Olive. Charley’s January was in May in Claydon house where we discussed medieval fayres and the Jane Austen festival, where we sat in a private chapel and spoke as we wished until a lady came into actually pray and we tried our best to exit quietly. Sam gave Olive a piggy back in the gardens and there were some happy screaming and laughter. Olive’s March preceded Charley’s as we went to Bath in May and had ourselves our own very luxurious baths. Preceded and proceeded by enough Sally Lunn buns to feed a small army. 

My mum randomly won tickets to Look East festival so Charley and I went on an impromptu trip to London and saw Mumford and Sons live. Next time we’ll be prepared with a picnic blanket and more sunscreen for Charley. Indeed we were more fully prepared a month later for West End Live, armed with a cool bag full of food and drinks. What we weren’t prepared for, though, was the vast amount of people queueing. We knew it was popular and we knew there would be a long queue but we didn’t quite anticipate just how big. Having said that, after we admitted defeat we found a little section to the side of Trafalgar square with deck chairs facing a huge screen live streaming the whole event. We didn’t get seats straightaway but sure enough a family with kids left slightly earlier. Instead of standing under the sun for hours on end, Charley and I sat on our deck chairs in the shade in a lovely June day eating our food and drinking to our heart’s content. We decided that in 2020, we’d just do the exact same. We also come out wanting to watch ever single musical there was. 

Speaking of getting the right picnic spot, we are starting to have this ‘Singing on the river’ thing down; picnic blankets a plenty, napkins, cutleries, takeaway for dinner by the river listening to the wonderful King’s men perform renditions of old and new songs. It’s a Cambridge tradition we just can’t miss. 

We did try to keep up monthly dinners in 2019; we went to Varsity, The Red Lion and Petersfield before we had to suspend the dinners as it was time to fly to Pakistan.

After the vaccinations were done, after the visas were sorted, after all the clothes were bought, after all the make-up and hair trials were done, after all suitcases were packed, after all the dances were mastered (somewhat), after the incredibly long wait to see Hera again it was time to get in the taxi and slowly but surely make our way to the train station. Slowly because we had a flat tyre. But it was going to be faster to get on a slow car than wait for another taxi. 

For months on end, as a group, we all had a phrase “After Pakistan”. The amount of things we said we’d do ‘after Pakistan’ and suddenly we were there. Suddenly it was all gone. 

I’m not sure life kept going after Pakistan, you know. 

And yet it did. I came back to work with my new manager fully into the swing of things, nothing had exploded and everything was still chugging along. Suddenly I was being invited to more meetings and prospects of going business trips became a thing. 

I also started sewing classes, along with Olive and Sarah. I stopped ballroom classes and continued with krav maga. 

In October, Amy and Tom picked me up in Cambridge and we all drove to Bakewell together to meet Izzy and Zack. The weather could have been nicer to us but it was the UK in October, we should have known better. So off we went, in the rain, walking down an old railroad track (we did consider cycling but that got confusing and expensive), climbing hills for loo breaks and risking ankles and necks for a hope of a nice warm lunch only to be disappointed because pubs in the middle of nowhere is far and few in between and only serve food at specified hours. Having walked for hours with a small amount of sustenance we took the taxi home and enjoyed a meal at the apartment instead. 

In November, we flew to Bulgaria and what an experience it was. Beautiful sceneries and definitely a hidden gem, but take it from me, don’t take the jeep up the mountain. Find a different mountain, there’s plenty. Explore the gorgeous towns preserved to their original glory and feel like you’ve been transported back in time. Try the local cuisine! Dress up in traditional Bulgarian outfits, it’ll make a wonderful family photo. 

That same month, Hera visited England again. For a mere few days she stayed in Cambridge and we tried to make the most of it as possible. Butch Annie’s was obviously a requirement. And at last, once again, Kate’s November birthday was celebrated in November. In a once in a lifetime opportunity where all six of us were finally back together again to tackle not one, not two but three escape rooms! We got out of every single one of them. No biggie! But just like that, we were all split up again. 

But no rest for the wicked because the very next day I was off to Austria on a business trip. My first ever business trip. It wasn’t all work and no play, in fact, at one point we were chucked out of the office so we can explore Vienna further so we did. We went to Christmas market after Christmas market and I stocked up on Christmas baubles and Christmas presents. My favourite bauble though? Came from the Bury St Edmunds Christmas Fayre. I’ll be on the look out for you again next year!

Before long it was December. With all the hubub of 2019 and the hubub that 2020 will bring (in form of a NYE party) I decided it was best if we had someone else cook for us for Friends Christmas. Secret Santas were exchanged and extra sticky toffee puddings were ordered, no dishes were cleaned by our hands that evening, 

And then it was time to party. 1920’s themed party to ring in the 2020’s…

When I really think about it 2019 was one helluva year. So much has changed, so much will change. There isn’t one month similar to the one before, it’s terrifying. Growing up is terrifying. Changes are terrifying. 

But we have to bury broken hearts and raise a glass to falling in love, we have to hug memories goodbye and smile at the new ones. We have to accept things won’t be the same but that’s not a bad thing. There are still songs to dance to and movies to cry at, rooms to escape and snacks to share. They’ll always be there no matter what… no matter what 2020 will bring. 

[brvckin-blog]

in all forms except physical i can write an intro, know that ( ! ) i’m mikhia, you can call me mikki if you want tho idc lmao, i’m eighteen, and i live my life by the word of park sooyoung. in her name we pray, amen! i’m always tryna come up with some kind of witty intro but LMAO that never happens and probs never will so this is it.......... this is what y’all get! if you wanna plot then read this shit and gimme a mf smash of that heart and i’ll hit you up! or, if you prefer plotting on d.iscord then you can find me over at YUKHEI’S WHITE GIRL LAUGH #5355 just like tell me who you are when i add you!

▶ BASIC INFORMATION

breckin rhee isn’t as innocent as he seems. on the outside they’re just another twenty-one year old junior who’s looking to get through college with a degree in biology, but let me be the first to tell you there’s more than meets the eye. although they were ingrid’s party buddy, they were the one who held her still while she was bound and gagged. hopefully nobody finds out what they did!

▶ BULLET POINT BACKGROUND

the following overview contains triggering topics such as abuse, drug use, manipulation, and murder. if any of these topics make you uncomfortable then please click away as your well being is a lot more important than the background of my character. however, just as an fyi, none of the topics are talked about in depth, just more-so mentioned!

growing up it was just breckin and his dad living in a big, isolated house at the end of a road where no one really cared to get to know one another. he never knew what happened to his mom, but he also never asked. him and his dad didn’t have the kind of relationship for that; him and his dad were never close enough to have personal conversations.

the two of them only spoke a handful of words to each other by the time the boy was ten and had been completely raised by a nanny. but then everything changed when she just didn’t show up one day and his dad decided to play the role of a parent for once. and, just like with his mom, he had no idea what happened to his former parental figure.

he was shit at it (go figure) and constantly yelled at breckin, even pushing him around and smashing his toys just cause he felt like it. he didn’t understand what he had ever done wrong and a part of him thought that this was just how every parent treated their child.

when he was twelve, he ended up finding an old camcorder and instantly fell in love with filming everything around him. it all looked so beautiful through a lens; untainted. but he was young and kids can be dumb. he ended up recording over one of the tapes inside and when his dad found out, he completely lost it.

apparently breckin had taped over an old home video of his mom, one that his dad watched frequently, and it became the catalyst for events that would change his life forever. it was the first time his dad was ever physically abusive towards him.

he doesn’t really have much memory of the event, but he does remember being at the top of the stairs filming before everything went black. he found out later that his dad had pushed him down the stairs, but it was ruled an accident and he was put back into his care after he healed.

things only got worse from there with his dad constantly telling him that he was a monster, that no one would ever love him, and that no one would care if he died. these things clawed their way down his throat and found a home in his lungs until he felt like he could no longer breathe.

as he got older and a little colder, he started fighting back and it ended up just being a big brawl between him and his dad all the time. they would literally beat the shit out of each other multiple times a week until, suddenly, it all stopped when he was sixteen.

his dad remarried and the woman brought in two younger children. then, suddenly, his dad was someone else entirely. it was like the bitter old man had been replaced by the most wholesome being in the world. he acted like a completely different person and it pissed breckin off. but it also inspired him in a way; it changed his outlook on the world around him entirely.

so he changed his personality too, became the picture perfect son who played sports and got good grades. he held up his image well, but the monster his father always told him he was never went away. it just waited under his facade until the perfect time to strike.

it was after his first real girlfriend that he decided he liked hurting people. he liked breaking their hearts because it made him feel like a god. he was the perfect boyfriend, dating girls and boys and anyone that was dumb enough to fall for his tricks. he would make sure that he was all they thought about, that they were sure they were in love with him, and then he would rip the rug right out from under them.

nothing made him happier than watching them cry and beg him not to do this. they looked so ugly and broken and he couldn’t think of anything more beautiful. he liked seeing people at their most vulnerable, got off on humiliating them.

it was around that same time that he also got into drugs, cocaine specifically, and it helped to perk him up; it helped to make him not look so dead inside. he was a great actor, but the eyes are the window to the soul and his held nothing inside.

with his new life planned out, breckin made the decision to go to college and major in biology with the hopes of getting into med school and becoming a doctor like his father. in some weird way, it was almost like he wanted to be just like him, to show him that he was only monster because of him.

it was at his high school graduation that he found out what really happened to his mother when she suddenly showed up trying to act like everything was ok. in his mind, he had already come to terms with her death, deciding that his father more than likely killed her. but the truth hurt a whole lot more. she had just left........ left him with a monster who didn’t love him. and, not only that, but she had a whole new family with two children (his half siblings) and one of them was even close to him in age. it enraged him and, so, the next morning he cut the brake line in her car and killed her off permanently. she was dead to him so dead she would stay.

when he left for uni, he constructed a backstory where he was the son of a pastor who graduated as valedictorian and blushed when complimented. none of that was true, but it didn’t matter. everyone would believe him and would never question it so it didn’t matter.

at freshman orientation, he found his first victim and really set everything back into motion. he began dating anyone and everyone before ultimately cheating on them, and breaking their hearts in the worst possible way all while holding up his perfect little persona until the end.

it was a cruel game, but he was able to keep others quiet about who he really was either through blackmail or through them being so humiliated that they left school and moved away.

over the years though as he’s gotten busier and has gotten closer to graduating, he’s really been too exhausted to keep up his facade as much so he’s basically half himself and half good church goin boy lmao!

▶ LIST OF SECRETS 

obviously no one knows about these (unless we’ve plotted something out surrounding them) so keep these to your ooc self beetch! i honestly just wanted to throw ‘em down here because my memory is shit!

breckin plans on going to med school after graduation so, in preparation for becoming a doctor down the road, he will oftentimes practice on willing peers who are looking for a little extra cash.

he has a weird obsession with death but, more specifically, what comes after. it’s something that no one knows the answer to so he has taken it upon himself to try and figure it out. how, you ask? think flatliners. he hooks himself (and other people occasionally) to a machine then injects them with a drug to stop their heart. they die, the two minute countdown begins, then they’re resuscitated. he’s been getting a little too brave lately though and letting himself flatline for longer periods of time.

even though those two things in particular could get him not only kicked out of school, but ruin his chances of getting into med school, there are others that would pretty much bury his entire reputation six feet under. since he was in his early teens, breckin has been living a sort of double life. he pretends to be a nice boy who only has good intentions, but he couldn’t be more opposite. he loves breaking hearts, hurting others, and humiliating them. more often than not, he dates people solely for that.

even though he doesn’t need the money, he loves attention so he started up his very own little artistic porn blog on tumblr (throw it back to when that shit was still allowed). he began when he was a freshman and has accumulated around forty thousand followers in that time. he never shows his face or anything but he posts pretty racy photos and sells pictures, videos, and audio recordings to those that are willing to pay.

breckin has a very packed schedule between studying pre-med, playing sports, and keeping up with all of his other extracurricular activities that he doesn’t find much time to do normal things like sleeping, eating, etc. this has pushed him to find other means to sustain him that mostly include divulging in various drugs of choice.

▶ POTENTIAL PLOT IDEAS

these are just barebone ideas that could and should be expanded on. but, again, they’re only ideas and i’m really open to plotting just about anything? especially if you have smth in particular that you really want filled, please don’t be afraid to come to me about it! all plots are also open to any muse of any gender!

TEAMMATE(S) — breck is really into sports (specifically more aggressive ones) so if your muse plays any such as: football, lacrosse, hockey, etc then hmu! we can do full blown rivals, playful rivals, mates who just help keep each other motivated to do their best, etc.

HALF SIBLING — if you read the background info then you’ll know that breck’s mom pretty much disappeared then showed back up with two new kids who are his half siblings. however, one of them is pretty close to his age so it’d be cool to have them around? especially considering the fact that he ended up killing their mother yikes! even though they obvs don’t know that it could make for some good writing to explore them finding it out in the future!

ROMANTIC(?) — i’m talkin fwb, exes that he’s played, one night stands, etc. considering the fact that his schedule has only gotten busier and busier, he doesn’t really have time to date around like he used to but he still has needs, damn, so essketit!

PARTY BUDDY — breck likes to party a lot and likes to get fucked up so he needs some friends who’ll humor him and who can keep up with all of his wild shenanigans.

DRUG DEALER — with the amount of shit he does (both personally and otherwise) he could keep your character completely funded himself lmao! hes got a lot of money so let his dumbass give it to you!

NEIGHBOR(S) — breck doesn’t live on campus cause fuck that hes too old for it and he hated it anyway so he lives in an apartment which means your muse? could be his neighbor idk this is super vague but we could do a lot with it just trust me!

SECRETS(?) — considering a couple of his secrets are a little out there it’d be kinda cool to have someone in on them. like, with his whole experimenting on people thing and basically killing them then bringing them back to see what they experienced ya....... could be fun literally someone gimme it!

[uncheckedtomfoolery]

Deep Space

Strap yourselves in for a giant robot story that is not gritty so much as an actual gravel pit, if that’s your thing. Under the cut.

They don't tell you how terrifying space is, when you sign on. Might be because they think you'd look at the uniform and keys they hold out, and slap it right out of their hands.

They guessed right, in my case.

There's no sound out here. Everyone knows that, but nothing prepares you for how wrong it feels in a battle. Two giants circling each other, trying their best to turn the other into a drifting, dead hulk. It's a- what's the phrase? A clash of titans, almost literally. It should be loud, but there's nothing. Plenty of pilots end up installing a simsound system, making up the sounds the machine thinks you should be hearing, all things considered. It's against the rules, but it keeps some of us sane.

So there's the quiet. At least that just gets under your skin. They say (quietly, after their tour) that nothing makes you appreciate life and all its fragility like deep space. Thousands of tons - I never looked at the specs, I'm taking some artistic license here - of steel and plastic, flying around between planets, and you still feel fragile. Where's the justice in that?

I'm still looking, if you really want to know, but never mind that. Truth is, a mech is one little mistake away from turning into a coffin, when you take it away from cozy planetside missions. The air supply, the heating, the propulsion, the navigation, or just a little part of the hull. Any of that could break down, even in a little way, and you'd be too far from help to-

We can walk out in our EVA suit and hope, but that's about it. Wait for rescue and pretend it'll come in time. They might try; pilots are expensive. They always come back for the mech. Those are even more expensive. Stands to reason. All that's between me and cold, deadly vacuum (assuming there's nothing exciting in this part of space, like solar flares, clouds of deadlier-than-usual radiation, asteroids, you name it), is a layer of robot skin, built by the lowest bidder, on an I-Want-It-Done-Yesterday schedule. The hull of my dear old MAA Indomitable.

Let me explain. Exosuits - mechs, giant robots or whatever, coloquially - were originally amphibious units, and the army and navy had a bit of a spat over the names. The compromise we got to was Mechanised Autonomous Armour, with a designation for each mech type, shared by its flagship, and a personal name for each one. They used to be unmanned, but as soon as they figured out flying one was 'safe', they decided unmanned piloting was even worse than manned piloting, and put us in. You don't skimp on the safety of a piece of hardware that expensive, if you can help it.

A couple decades later, they even got over the radiation leakage issues in the reactors, after swearing up and down there weren't any the whole time. I've got friends with grandparents still waiting on their compensation for that one.

Thus, the MAA Indomitable. It's the only one we can afford to mass-produce that's at all relevant to today's battlefields. I'll let that speak for its quality. This one came with its name already decided by its last owner, who I never met. Pitted, battered and scorched, with 'Rosinante' painted on the side in big, black letters. When I looked that up, it killed off most of my starry-eyed hope for the machine that I'd be trusting with my life.

Here's the thing. Out here, you depend on plating. AI isn't quite there yet, not enough to take control and move out of the way when it has to, so manned or unmanned, the bottleneck is us, not it. Not the hardware, but the pilot. All the mobility in the world doesn't mean a single thing when it's bogged down by the flailing monkey reflexes of yours truly.

You cannot dodge a bullet.

Out here, we pray it doesn't hit. We pray because when facing ridiculous odds in a monstrous environment, doing things we weren't meant for in places we were never supposed to inhabit, doing it all on the back of a machine we'd have to study for years before it becomes more than a black box of sufficiently advanced technology... prayer seems like the appropriate thing to do. Out here, we try to trust in plating. Try, because plating is fallible, it can't go everywhere, and we live on a line, dancing on the breakpoint where a little more protection is more expensive than rebuilding, or repairing a ruined hulk.

That's why the future of the past lied to you, and we don't have glowing swords, or lasers, or even missiles and machine guns. Those belong planetside. Out here, it's a quiet, dull dance, tracking speeding targets with guns that fire little heated ceramic darts. One simple puncture, and explosive decompression will do the rest. Hull gives out, and you just have to hope that whoever's in the glass giant opposite you has a soft spot for drifting EVA suits.

They don't tell you what it's like, fighting in space, but I've had time to see for myself. I've made up my mind. Space and I are not friends, and never will be.

A blip on my radar tells me that even out here, in deep space, I can forget about having any privacy. On the other hand, that's probably fair; I'm not supposed to be here. It's a Jackdaw – a Europan model, close enough to the one I'm piloting that I could say they're about the same, and most pilots would nod without a second thought.

Any mechanics in the room, on the other hand, would definitely throttle me.

We see each other's colours, and it doesn't go much further than that. No point in talking it out. No one watching us scouts out here, nothing forcing our hands, and neither of us – unless I'm projecting – want to be here or have anything against the other. So, why are we taking the first shots a second or two after we saw each other?

Good question. We've been at this many years by now, it's probably habit. That's the kind of thing that makes us realise, eventually, exactly how we're going back to normal when this is all over. It's not a lie, not really, it's just a question of how we go back. A bundle of drilled-in outside-context instincts and reflexes, set free and told to go back to normal.

As visitors. Just visiting, not part of the show. Something from Out There that came back one day, something other. Maybe that's just me – I never really talked about it with anyone, and everyone tells me I've never been much of a ray of sunshine. All this- it's not something anyone ever tells you. You're trusted to figure it out for yourself and, more often than not, decide not to worry about it too much.

Not like it's going to come up, right?

Maybe you're wondering why I think I can afford to talk so much in a firefight. One, you're overestimating the pace of two giant machines trying to poke a hole in each other. Two, it relaxes me, and jittery nerves will do a lot more to get me killed than a bit of distraction. So, I'm going to keep talking.

The Jackdaw flies closer, closer, spraying ceramic everywhere. I realise it's trying to put me on the defensive for long enough to get close. The Jackdaw, I remember hearing, comes with a hydraulic stake. No plating is going to save you from that, just so long as you can get close, but if you fired it, it wouldn't move nearly fast enough without a cannon three times the Jackdaw's size. So they're closing in.

I brace myself against nothing at all, out of habit, and fire a couple rounds, calling the Jackdaw's bluff, if that's how you want to think of it. I didn't do what I was supposed to, didn't follow the script, so I've got surprise on my side. It pulls out its stake, and then slowly, quietly drifts right past me. I look at its back with a stare I haven't used since I ran over a fox a couple weeks after I got my driver's license. I didn't mean to do that.

By the time it clicks, the Jackdaw is out of range. I shot out its thrusters, but momentum stays, out here. It just keeps going, too broken to turn, but I haven't pierced the hull. I just carried it across that short bridge from war machine to coffin. Explosive decompression won't kick in. Life support probably still works, even. It'll just drift along until... well. Maybe it'll hit some planet, burn up in the atmosphere. Maybe the atmosphere will be too thin, and it'll smash right into some moon or asteroid. Or maybe it'll drift forever, and the pilot will just sit there until thirst finishes them off.

I'd pretend it's kinder than a killing blow, but pretending is a lot of effort and I was never much of an actor, so I just watch. I'm too tired to put in that kind of work. Instead I make my exosuit snap off a mock-salute, and in the privacy of my little room inside a metal giant, I mutter something that was supposed to come out as “see you in therapy”. Pilot joke. See, it's funny because most of us aren't going to last long enough to get there, and even then, chances are, you can't afford to-

Well, you've got to be a pilot to laugh at it, but it's funny. Trust me. I don't feel too bad about the joke since- maybe this is another thing I've projected, but a lot of us, certainly me, took something I used to think of as the pilot's oath. Then I got tired of anything so overblown, and now I just think of it as not kidding myself. When you hold a grudge against whoever takes you out, you're really drawing a line between if and when. If someone shoots you down, and they just had to give you the wrong answer.

For me, it's more of a 'when'. Don't shoot the messenger, right? I see it coming and I promised to myself I won't take it personally. What's that do? Maybe whoever gets me is like that too, they'll assume the same from me, and sleep better for it that night. Until then, I get to do the same.

Then I take another look at the shrinking exosuit, and throw up in my helmet, because I'm only human. It takes twelve long seconds for my filters to clean the mess up. You'll forgive me for cutting the narration for a bit there.

I've taken too many hits, so it's time to fly back for repairs and a soft be- a bed. Just set autopilot, keep one eye on the radar, and talk. Why's that? You see...

Besides the obvious – mission objectives and so on – I'm here to make tragedies.

That sounded better in my head. Less sinister.

The thing is, only a story can be a tragedy. It's something told, seen and heard. Without it, you have spreadsheets and statistics, you have terrible things happening in the cold places between stars, you have stories cut short and people that stop being people. If a tree falls and nobody is there to hear it, or... something like that.

So I talk into the air. To keep myself company, to keep myself something kind of like sane, to make up for never being able to afford simsound or hide it well enough from the brass, and...

Ah, you know.

I make tragedies. Because at this point, it's the least I can do.

[majesticmarais]

Best Friend’s Brother | D.S

Requested? By @adorkableavery

Summary: Y/n has been best friends with Anna for years, but has feelings for Daniel

Warnings? None

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: @averys-headass @adorkableavery @im-on-something-different @seavveywdw @lovingseavey @seaveysupreme @averysgarl

A/N: I haven’t written a Danny baby imagine in FOREVER so yay!!

“So, Saturday is girls sleep over night?” Anna asked excitedly over the phone. 

“Heck yeah,” I replied, lying on my back on my bed with my legs extended in the air, moving them around as I always did when I spoke on the phone.

“Remember when we used to have sleepovers constantly?” Anna asked, remembering the days when you guys had all the free time in the world and spent every waking moment together.

“I miss those times, so much simpler,” I replied, laughing lightly.

“It’s a date, Saturday,” she confirmed.

“See you then,” I smirked, hanging up and rolling off my bed to go grab something to eat.

Anna and I had been friends since we met in the third grade when I moved to Oregon with my family. We became attached at the hip since basically day 1 and would spend every day together when we found out we were also practically neighbors. 

Afternoons would be spent bouncing on trampolines, making up dance choreographies in the backyard, or playing hide and seek with Daniel and my siblings until the sun went down.

As we grew up, we had only grown closer. Anna and I told each other everything, were always there for each other through thick and thin, and although we both started to have bust schedules we always made quite a bit of time for each other through it all.

Today was the first sleepover you guys have had in a little while, so to say you were both excited was an understatement.

I gathered my stuff for the night and walked over to Anna’s house, the slightly cool breeze of the air feeling refreshing on my skin.

I walked up the concrete steps and pushed the doorbell, twisting the ring on my finger as I awaited Anna’s face to open the door.

Instead of being greeted by my best friend, it was Daniel who opened the door.

“Hey y/n,” he grinned, stepping aside to make room for me to come in.

“Hey Danny, I didn’t know you were home this weekend!” I said, not expecting to see him.

“Well, surprise,” he joked, opening his arms and pulling me in for a hug.

I had been close friends with Daniel too seeing as he’s Anna’s brother, but the only difference was that I had a hardcore hopeless crush on Daniel, and had for a very long time.

“Anna’s upstairs I think,” Daniel informed, ruffling my hair.

I tried to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks as I thanked him and jogged up the stairs, walking to the end of the hall to reach Anna’s room. I flung the door open and jumped into her room, causing her to jump slightly but nonetheless run to me and pull me into a hug.

“I’m so excited we’re gonna have so much fun,” she grinned.

“Y/n and Anna equal the very definition of fun,” I winked, referring to myself in the third person.

Anna and I lay together on her bed, on our stomachs with snacks sprawled out in front of us. We had just finished watching a movie together and were sitting in comfortable silence.

“So, gossip sesh as always?” Anna asked, rotating onto her side so she could face me as we talked.

“Sure, I don’t have much to say this time,” I chuckled, pushing a strand of hair out of face that had fallen out of the ponytail I was wearing.

“Well do you have a crush on anyone?” she asked, giving me a cheeky grin.

“No,” I lied, covering up the bluff with forced laughter.

“Come on, there’s gotta be at least one person you sort of have your eyes on,” she urged, wiggling her eyebrows as she stared at me.

“Nope, not really,” I shrugged.

“You’re lying,” she blurted out.

“What?”

“You’re lying. You always look up when you lie, and you looked up. Spill, who is it?” she asked, her smile growing.

“No one, Anna,” I laughed, pushing her slightly.

“First letter,” she persisted.

If there was anything I knew about Anna, it was that she always found out everything I tried to keep from her. She was persuasive and persistent and always managed to get me to spill the beans on whatever was on my mind at the time.

“D,” I admitted, looking down at my hands and fiddling with my fingers, not knowing what to do.

“Dylan!!” she exclaimed, thinking of a boy who I was sort of friends with.

“No,” I laughed.

After guessing a bunch of people whose first names started with D, the moment I was dreading had come.

“Obviously it’s not Daniel,” she joked, causing me to hold my breath and try to force a laugh to cover it up.

“Oh my god,” she said. “It is Daniel.”

“No it’s not!” I lied again, the blush creeping onto my cheeks making it blatantly obvious to Anna that I had a massive crush on her brother.

“It totally is. Oh my god you have a crush on my brother, what the hell?” she asked, laughing awkwardly.

I couldn’t tell if she was going to be mad at me, or if she just found it hilarious. I prayed it was the latter.

“Maybe a little, but I would never say anything, I know brother’s are usually off limits,” I admitted, my heart racing as I finally told the first person that I actually like Daniel.

“I’m not mad dude, like who you like,” she shrugged, tossing a piece of popcorn at me.

At 3 in the morning, as Anna and I still talked about anything and everything like we always did, I had gone downstairs to grab us both water. Anna had gone down before so I told her I would go this time.

As I tiptoed into the kitchen, I jumped and gasped when I saw a tall figure standing in front of the fridge.

“Sorry y/n,” Daniel laughed as he shut the fridge and walked over to me.

“It’s okay,” I chuckled, “You just almost made me pee myself, that’s all.”

Daniel laughed as he leaned against the kitchen island, watching me as I went on my tiptoes to reach 2 glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water.

“Hey, y/n, can I ask you something?” Daniel asked shyly.

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, turning around to face him as he averted his gaze from mine.

“I was walking past Anna’s room earlier and I heard you guys talking. Is what you said about me actually true?” he asked. I knew he was referring to me saying I liked him, and my heart began to race, wondering how I was going to have this conversation.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to be oblivious to see if maybe he would just let it go and think that he had just misheard our conversation.

“About you liking me,” he said.

“I-uhm-” I stuttered, not knowing what to reply. 

Daniel knew that I liked him, which was extremely embarrassing and could ruin our friendship too.

“I just uh, I wanted to say I thought you did for a little while, but I never said anything. I like you too, though, I have for quite a long time,” he admitted, a small smile appearing across his face as his face glowed in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Really?” I asked, feeling unable to talk.

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking over to me, his face inches from mine.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

“What about Anna?” I whispered, moving my face slightly closer to his, wanting to kiss him.

“She doesn’t have to know. Not now, anyway,” he smirked, placing one hand on the side of my face as he connected his lips with mine. 

For a moment my mind raced with thoughts, but eventually I was totally focused on just kissing Daniel, and nothing else mattered.

“Goodnight, y/n, see you tomorrow,” Daniel winked as he pulled away, turning around on his heel and jogging back upstairs, leaving me standing in shock in the kitchen, the faint sound of the clock ticking being the only thing heard other than the loud sound of my heart beating and my breath slightly hitching in my throat.

Now what?

[shift-shaping]

Glimpses: Flowers

@dadrunkwriting​

@talesfromthefade​, @zolamoonshadow​

Rating: M

Genre: Romance

You said any pairing so I thought... why not all of them?

Solas x Surana (Dancer, Student, and Canon verses) 

Dorian Trevelyan

Cullen x Surana

Alistair x Surana 

Yvelle Lavellan x Solas

Verse: Revolutionary

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Age gap

She straightened her skirt and took a deep breath, holding the flower pot close to her chest. With a tightly-closed fist she rapped on the door, three swift knocks that made the wood shudder.

Her chest felt tight, her neck damp with nervous sweat. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, straightened her skirt again. Inside the townhouse, footsteps echoed nearer to the door. She breathed in again, still shaky, still tight.

Her ears perked as he swung the door open, her mouth opening pre-emptively. He had a small, confused smile on, and was wearing the business wear she was used to seeing him in.

“Uh -hi,” she said, and his smile widened. “I, uh, I can’t stay very long. But I wanted to give you something.”

He stepped outside with her and closed the screen door behind him. “The flowers?” His gaze fell to the small pot, to the bouquet planted in soil. “They look familiar.”

“Yeah, um,” she laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Is... everything all right?”

“Yeah! Oh, yeah, definitely.” She nodded so vigorously it made her braids bounce. “It’s just really warm in my apartment right now.”

“I see...” He trailed off, awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “Ah, well, if you’d like to come inside...”

“No! I mean, I can’t. I have to go to work in like ten minutes.”

“Oh, right, of course...”

She swallowed hard, then held the flowers out for him. “They’re for you.”

He looked at her, confused, but took them. “You don’t need to give me anything, da’len.”

A small smile pulled at her lips and she looked between the flowers and his face. “They aren’t just anything.”

He looked back at the flowers, studying them closely. Realization dawned on him and he met her eyes again, blinking in surprise. “The ones I gave you...”

“Yeah. Turns out I have a bit of a green thumb.” 

“But, how? They were cuttings.”

She held her hands behind her back, pride calming her now, puffing her chest out. “I found a guide online and followed it to the letter. It took a while, and I could only save some of them, but... I think they look really nice.” 

His smile widened and he shook his head. “They are beautiful, da’len. Truly. You might have a future as a florist.”

“You think?” She’d genuinely never thought of that. “Hm... florist by day, stripper by night?”

“You’d always smell like flowers.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I just... wanted to show you that.”

“Thank you, truly.” He took a half-step closer to her, then stopped himself. “I... I’ll see you tonight then, da’len.”

She smiled, nodded, then started to walk backwards away. “We’re still meeting tomorrow afternoon, right?”

“Provided I don’t have too much to drink tonight.”

“Don’t drink!” She scoffed, grinning brightly. “Give all your money away in tips.”

“Mmm... I’ll consider that.”

She waved as she walked back to the street and climbed into her car. He watched her drive away, holding the flowers in his hands, then leaned back against his door and sighed loudly. There was a slim chance he could keep these things alive.

Pairing: Dorian x Trevelyan

As soon as Dorian learned Wessely’s birthday, he knew he would show no mercy. Wessely was modest to a fault, consistently putting everyone else before himself, and rarely took credit for his own victories. It was time to make him celebrate himself, whether he wanted to or not.

Vivienne and Josephine helped him secure hundreds of flowers and cover the Inquisitor’s room in them. Varric caught a glimpse and seemed to think all three of them had lost their minds, but Vivienne was quick to inform him that he had obviously never given a birthday gift to the Herald of Andraste. They needed his assistance, though, and instructed Varric to keep Wessely busy all afternoon while they made the final preparations. Wessely, in all his idiot kindness, made no complaint as Varric talked his ear off for hours in the courtyard.

Just as the sun neared the horizon Dorian shooed Vivienne and Josephine out, then immediately took off his clothes and climbed on to Wessely’s bed. He shifted amidst the flower petals until coming to a comfortable spot, then rolled on to his side and propped his head in his hand. The finishing touch was a single, very large rose over his crotch.

Varric was supposed to send Wessely in as soon as Josephine and Vivienne left, but Dorian found himself laying seductively in bed cursing the dwarf for over a half-hour. He must have gotten entrenched in one of his stories and lost track of time. Dorian groaned and cast a furtive glance to the setting sun. The timing wasn’t that big of a deal, but if he wasn’t in perfect position the entire effort was ruined, so he couldn’t just go and get his lover from the courtyard.

Time went on and dusk fell into night. After a while, with his wrist now thoroughly numb, Dorian relaxed on the bed into a more comfortable position. The work had been exhausting, and now that he lay in his lover’s massive bed he very badly wanted to sleep. He fought the urge for as long as he could, but eventually succumbed.

Another two hours passed before Wessely finally returned to his quarters. He immediately noticed the flower petals on the stairwell and smelled powerful incense through the door. Warmth flooded his chest and he carefully turned the doorknob, smiling softly when he saw Dorian sleeping on his bed in a pile of flower petals. As gently as he could, he climbed into bed and gave his lover a soft kiss on the forehead.

Dorian blinked and drowsily stretched, squinting at Wessely in the candlelight. “Where in the Maker’s name have you been?”

Wessely chuckled softly and brought Dorian’s hand to his lips, making the other man smile. “Emergency Inquisitor business. Apparently a druffalo stampede delayed our supply lines in the east.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “These southerners and their stinking, hulking mammals.”

“Giant snakes would have been preferable?” 

Dorian nodded and smirked, wrapping his arms around Wessely’s neck. “At least then you don’t get fur on everything.”

Wessely snorted before leaning down and kissing Dorian deeply, slowly. His partner tasted like wine and sleep, but not in the bitter way every other person did. It was a spell, Dorian said, a spell he’d personally perfected to rid himself of morning breath forever.

“Happy birthday, amatus,” Dorian said as Wessely pulled back. He looked tenderly into the other man’s eyes, quietly admiring their warm brown color.

Wessely smiled, though his brows knit in confusion. “My birthday isn’t for another six weeks.”

Dorian closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly and sighed. “I knew that.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, of course.” He pretended to be offended as he shifted on to his elbows, bringing his face close to Wessely’s. “How could you even suggest otherwise?”

“Ah. My mistake then.” Wessely leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dorian’s neck, making his lover hiss softly with pleasure. Dorian felt a tantalizing brush between his legs, then raised an eyebrow when Wessely brought the rose to his lips. 

“I am exposed,” Dorian said simply, and Wessely laughed before kissing him again, harder now.

“Thank you, Dorian. This means so much to me.”

“Of course, amatus.” He smiled that same warm smile and pulled Wessely back down, drawing their bodies together in the tangle of rose petals littering their bed. 

Verse: Fire is Her Water

Pairings: Cullen x Surana

Warnings: Templar x mage

He always knew where he could find her, and not just because a mage’s schedule was meticulously planned to the minute. If she was not with the animals or in the dense, ancient greenhouses, she was in the library. The curfew for her age was only two hours after dark, but she was allowed to study late into the night. Her work was benevolent, according to the Chantry, even beneficial. Among mages, healers had value and privileges others did not.

He held the ancient tome in his hands and prayed his palms would not dampen the fragile pages. It seemed wrong for his harsh metal gauntlets to hold something so delicate, but he would not put it away. When he gave it to her, perhaps his hands would brush hers, or he could catch a glimpse of her narrow wrists, of her onyx skin peeking from beneath the long sleeves of her robe.

He pushed open the door to the library and narrowed his eyes in the darkness Magic torches cast dim, flickering light over the endless towering bookcases, filling the room with a sunset orange -save for one blue glow, one lonely light tucked inside the reference section.

He went to her, his boots so loud on the uneven floorboards that he cringed from the noise. When he saw her he paused, smiling when he noticed how focused she was on her reading. She didn’t even look up as he approached her, despite the deafening sound of his heartbeat.

“E-Eirwen,” he stuttered, then cleared his throat. She looked up, head tilting, pupils large in the dark. “I got you something.”

Her brows furrowed and she shifted to her feet, brushing dust from her robes. “From where?”

“A -a merchant in town. I thought you might like it.” He held it out to her and she rolled up her sleeves before gently taking it from his hands. Her skin was so smooth, so clear and shining in the dark. His breath caught in his throat and his tongue felt like cotton.

She looked over it, gingerly turning the fragile pages, eyes widening with wonder. The drawings were beautiful and detailed, the writing precise and clear. Page after page showed stunning pictures of flowers from all over the world, in faded but still vibrant color. 

“Cullen,” she said softly, tearing her gaze from the gift. “This is amazing. You... you didn’t have to do this. I... I don’t even have anything to repay you with.” She laughed and looked back down at it, shaking her head. “Thank you so much... this means the world to me.” 

He struggled for words, but they betrayed him like always. He hated how stupid he looked in front of her, how dumb he felt whenever she turned her eyes on him. 

She giggled then and gently shut the book. The floorboards creaked as she shifted forward, putting one hand on his chestplate. Her soft lips pressed to his cheek and his eyes widened, shock overtaking him as he felt her smooth skin against his. “Thank you, Cullen. Thank you so much.”

He stood there, stunned still, as she padded past him to the hall and shut the heavy wooden door behind her. She tore away any sense that he had, left him speechless and dumb, yet he wouldn’t trade her presence for anything. 

Verse: Confessions of a Teacher’s Pet

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Teacher x Student, age gap

In three days, it would be six months since she kissed him in his car.

Six months of pining, of desperate sex that never slowed, of near-constant teasing and quiet, aching confessions of love in the middle of the night. It had been a tumultuous six months and entirely unexpected, and but also entirely heaven.

Six months wasn’t much time, but he still wanted to celebrate. Earlier that day, in his office, she’d pulled him close to her, made him corner her against the wall, kissed his neck hard and drew sharp gasps and guttural groans from deep in his chest. His hands grasped for her back and he held her body flush against his, grinding his hips against her, spreading her legs as he lifted her and shifted to swallow a hot moan from her lips. 

They hadn’t been able to finish, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. 

As had become their typical schedule, she planned to spend most of the weekend with him in his apartment. She lounged in his shirts and sometimes her underwear, filling his home with her presence. They cooked and watched movies and did their work beside each other on his couch or in his bed. More often than not he found his eyes drawn to her bare legs, or felt her gaze stuck on his forearms. Their distractions fed into each other and inevitably he’d end up between those long, muscular legs in one way or another.

This particular weekend she’d itched for warmth, constantly wrapping herself around him and holding his hand and laying across his lap. It kept him busy and, more importantly, kept her away from the refrigerator.

Normally she had free range with everything in his apartment, but this time he needed her away from the secret hidden behind the vegetables. Every time she got close he’d distract her, sometimes with sex, sometimes with other food or sweet words.

On Sunday, inevitably, she voiced her suspicions. “What are you keeping in that fridge?” Her voice was a low coo as she rested her head on his bare chest, her legs kicking the air, the blankets of his bed laying over her naked back. 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” he replied, smirking slightly.

“Every time I get close to your fridge, you pull me away.” She lifted herself up on her hands, pushing her breasts together, challenging him to keep his eyes on her face. “I’m starting to think you’re keeping a decapitated head in there.”

He snorted. “You are always so gruesome. I should think you’d know me better than that by now.”

“Oh, of course.” She grinned and shifted, tossing one leg over his hips and straddling him. He gripped her waist almost instinctively and gave her soft sides a squeeze. “You’re more the type to keep a heart in your fridge. Maybe a couple fingers.”

“That is disgusting.”

She grinded on him and he rolled his eyes. “You still aren’t telling me what it is.”

“I assure you, it is nothing that was once part of a person.”

“Oddly specific wording, hahren.”

“Alright,” he sighed and eased her off him, shaking his head. She giggled as he stood, crawling on the bed to suddenly pull him back. He gasped as she groped him a bit, fingers straying too far down. “I thought you wanted to see the refrigerator?” 

She snorted and moved her hands to hug him instead. “Sorry. I just can’t resist an ass like that.”

He smiled over his shoulder at her. “You are easily distracted, vhenan.”

“You still gave me an A.” 

He hummed softly and turned, greatly tempted to press her back down into the bed and make love to her again. He tucked his fingers under her chin and brought her mouth to his, kissing her deep and slow, letting his teeth pull at her lips before he broke away. She inhaled sharply as he stepped back, sliding his hand down to hers, gently tugging her to her feet. “Come, ma vhenan. Let me show you.”

She groaned but followed him, letting him lead her back to the kitchen. It occurred to him that she must be cold, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton underwear, so on the way to the hall he took a sweater from his desk chair and helped her pull it on over her head. It hung low, down to her mid-thighs, and covered her hands. 

“Should I be bracing myself?” She asked, leaning back against the counter as he opened the fridge. “Is something going to pop out at me?”

He said nothing, and she straightened as he pulled something in a box from the fridge. He laid it down gently, then gave her room to see what it was as he pulled the top of the box off. Her eyes widened and she gasped softly, bringing her sleeve-covered hand to her mouth. 

“Solas...” She said softly, shaking her head. “This is... this is beautiful.” Before her sat a gorgeous cake covered in flawless, colorful frosting flowers. As she looked them over, tears stung her eyes. “The flowers... are these...?” 

Soon after they’d started dating, she left a bouquet of flowers in his mailbox on campus. It was a beautiful collection, vibrant and reminiscent of spring. She saw that now on the cake, the same types of flowers, the same bright color scheme.

“Oh, Solas...” Her voice was small and quiet, and he started to speak before she turned to him and suddenly kissed him, hard and deep, hands on either side of his face.

He stumbled at first, hand barely catching the counter. He hugged her with his free hand, holding her close, and after a moment returned the kiss with just as much passion. 

Pairing: Solavellan

Warnings: Age gap

It took days to figure out what kind of gift Solas would actually like.

Josephine was genuinely shocked he didn’t like tea, and seemed unable to accept it at first. “Truly? But he seems like just the type... are you quite certain he dislikes all tea? Even the sweeter kinds?”

Vivienne had lowered her book and given Yvelle a withering stare. “Darling, just find him some weeds from outside; it’s you he’s after, anyway.” She brought her book up again and shrugged. “Though what the man really needs is a pair of shoes.”

Bull had leaned back in his chair and looked at Yvelle suspiciously. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and figure we’re talking about different kinds of gifts, boss. I mean... I’d consider it, but...” She’d needed Sera to explain what Bull was talking about, and she only told Yvelle five minutes later, after she finished laughing. 

Even Cole’s advice wasn’t particularly useful, but Yvelle didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “He has very few things. Mostly useful things... maybe he wants something that isn’t so useful. It doesn’t have to be real.”

So it was with a great sense of defeat that Yvelle confessed her failure to Cassandra, who she knew liked to read romance novels and might have some advice. She didn’t like admitting inability in front of Cassandra -she felt it made her look inept as a leader- but the Seeker didn’t seem to mind. The slightest hint of a smile pulled at her lips, and she brought Yvelle to the garden. 

“Now, I do not know about Solas specifically, but it is good to consider things he already has and get him something similar that is also unique to you.”

“He has... paints.”

“And books. And likely a great deal of very old things.” They stopped walking in front of a flower pot full of colorful daisies. Both of them were silent for a time, before Cassandra looked at Yvelle with a slight frown. “He enjoys candles, does he not?”

Yvelle tilted her head and nodded, not sure where Cassandra was going with this. “They usually have a bit of a scent, like pine or roses.”

The Seeker’s lips tilted into a smirk. “I believe I may know just the thing.”

A week later, after a small, unobtrusive package arrived for the Inquisitor, she met with Solas on her balcony. After their usual banter and teasing he pressed her back into the railing and kissed her, his hands gentle on her hips. She felt her heart racing, her breathing tighter and harsher, her hands grasping at the back of his shirt. 

He pulled back from her lips to kiss her neck, making her back arch in his hands and her voice break into a girlish moan. His lips tightened, and she felt him chuckle against her skin. “Are you wearing perfume, Inquisitor?”

A warm blush spread over her body and she cleared her throat. “Do you... do you like it?”

He kissed her neck again, then trailed his teeth against the skin. “I do. Very much.”

She shivered and swallowed hard, fingers still grasping at his back. “G -good. It’s, um... daisies...”

His hands slid up her waist, hugging her tighter, and he chuckled again. “Do you know what those mean?”

“...Mean?”

He nodded. “According to Orlesians, anyway. So take it as you will.” He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and looking into her amber eyes. “The particularly wealthy use flowers to send different messages. Aster is patience, Gardenia is cheerfulness, Iris is wisdom...” 

She smiled and laughed. “How do you know all that?”

He kissed her again, quickly. “I’ve been known to read things from time to time.”

They kissed again, deeper now, and he held her close like he had before. When they broke apart to breathe, she closed her eyes and steadied her voice. “And... what do daisies mean?”

He laughed then, surprising her, and then sighed. “You, ah, you do not want to know.”

“What? Why?” She pulled back, brows furrowed. “What do they mean?”

He moved his hands back down to her waist, then lower, resting just over her rear and making her blush furiously. “Purity.”

She was silent for a moment, the joke sinking in, before she groaned and buried her face in Solas’s chest. “Creators, of course it does...”

He laughed and hugged her, shaking his head. “It still smells very good, Inquisitor. You shouldn’t worry about the meaning.” He kissed her head and she squeezed him tighter. “I love it nonetheless.”

Verse: Fire is Her Water

Pairings: Alistair x Surana

Warnings: Gore

Wynne held Eirwen’s head in her lap, her gaze locked on the girl’s bloodied face, the air crackling with her magic as she willed the destroyed skin back together. “Does anyone have saffron flowers?” Her voice was raw and harsh as she risked a glance upward. “Anyone?!”

Morrigan was already searching through her pack fervently, her hands shaking. “No. I cannot -of course it is the one thing I do not have...”

“There is only so much I can do on my own.” Wynne shook her head as Eirwen groaned in pain. 

“One of us could return to the surface, or at least to Orzammar.” Zevran paced, shaking his head, brows knit tightly as he thought. “Perhaps someone is selling it. They must have herbs down here, or... something...”

“I mean this with all due respect, Zevran,” Wynne started, her voice strangled with frustration as sweat began to drip from her hairline. “You cannot make it back to Orzammar on your own. You have no sense of where your enemy is coming from, without the Taint, you would not survive.” She sighed shakily. “And there is no promise Orzammar will have the herbs regardless.”

“I can do it, I’ll go.” Wynne glanced at Alistair, whose silver armor was dark with blood. He stood steady, with only a minor injury on his cheek.

“We need you here, Alistair.” But she knew that wasn’t true. With so many of them it would be extremely difficult for darkspawn to take them by surprise, and even if they did, the party was well-prepared. “Do you really think you could do it?” She asked, her voice low.

Alistair knelt before her, looking down at Eirwen, at her mauled face. He nodded, his jaw set. “Of course.” There was an unspoken emotion there, something much deeper than the overconfidence of a young man. He reached out and gently stroked her blood-coated braids. 

“Do you know the way?” Morrigan asked, her expression grave as she looked at him. “I could go instead. ‘Tis difficult for a hurlock to catch a crow.”

“What if your mana runs out, or you lose your way? You can’t read a map and fly.”

She stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest. “I could manage. There are other ways to find one’s way to the surface.”

“No, Morrigan,” Wynne cut in sharply. “I need you here, to heal her when I cannot.” Morrigan looked down at Eirwen, her expression hard, but said nothing. “Or at least to keep this from getting any worse.” With her free hand, shaking furiously, she licked her finger and wiped some blood from Eirwen’s forehead. The girl shivered and shifted slightly, so Wynne shushed her quietly. She looked up at Alistair, her gaze stone-hard. “Go, then. Get her Saffron, as much of the entire plant as possible. We’ll make a poultice from it to restore her vision.”

It seemed like an insurmountable task. 

The shriek had caught Eirwen by surprise while she was attempting a healing spell and ravaged the left side of her face, cutting deep from her forehead through her eye and into her cheek, splitting the eye itself in half. Her screams were some of the worst sounds any of them had ever heard, Zevran and Oghren included. Even Shale seemed horrified despite itself, mumbling something about how pitiful fleshy things were as it stepped away from the carnage.

But Alistair left in search of the flowers regardless. In his absence the others looked after his lover, as Morrigan and Wynne struggled to save her eye by sewing each strand of flesh back together with tenuous threads of magic. They were lucky to only face one darkspawn onslaught while they held their position.

He returned more than a day later, drenched in sweat and blood but holding a fistful of saffron in each hand. Much to his shock, however, Eirwen was already blinking and reading.

“What... I don’t...” As soon as she heard his voice the younger warden leapt to her feet and threw herself into him, evidently not caring about the impact of her body on his heavy armor. Despite his surprise he hugged her tightly, burying his fact in her neck, breathing in her scent before he pulled back to look at her. He saw now that her face was not completed healed -there was a strangeness to how she looked at him, her left eye tracking just slightly off from her right. A jagged scar cut through it, but it looked far better than he would have expected.

“You’re back!” She said, cupping his face with her hands. “Alistair, thank you so much.” She kissed him then, making him blink in shock, then stepped back and grasped his wrists in her small hands. “I can’t imagine what you went through... thank you, thank you so much.” She kissed him again, but a sharp, pointed ahem interrupted the moment. 

Morrigan held out her hand to Alistair. “The flowers, Warden.”

“I...” He nodded and handed them to her despite his confusion. “What happened? You...” He looked back at Eirwen. “You look a lot better than when I left.”

“Morrigan found some healing herbs in a side pocket of her bag.” Alistair just stared blankly at the apostate, who shrugged nonchalantly. “They fixed most of it, but I still need some to get me back to normal. I have virtually no depth perception at the moment.”

“Ah, and we cannot have that.” He kissed her again, then let her go when Wynne called her name. Before he went to see her, he stopped, gently grasping Morrigan’s upper arm before she could slip away. “Why, Morrigan?”

She wrenched her arm away from him. “I have no idea what you are referring to, and if you ever touch me again-”

“You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

She relaxed a bit, straightening her back. “I genuinely had forgotten about that pocket until long after you were gone, Warden. She is safe, and so are you. There is little more you can ask of me, so I suggest you let this go.”

He shook his head, his expression tightening, before he sighed and deflated. “Only for her sake, witch. Because she likes you.”

“As she should.” Morrigan shrugged, and a slight smirk pulled at her lips. “I did save her life, didn’t I?” 

Verse: The Lion and the Wolf

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Age gap

“Supposedly, this was once a great plain.” Eirwen swept her arm out dramatically, indicating the wide swath of empty desert before them. “There were small oases all over, and legendary, long-gone animals like plains lions and pygmy elephants sought refuge in them.” She brought her flask to her lips and took a long drink before sighing heavily. “Come on, I want to show you something.” She urged her mount, an old grey mare, further toward the nothingness. 

Solas sat beside her atop a calm russet-colored horse. He wore a heavy hood over his bald head, and his robes fell low past his hands. A hot desert wind blew past him and he shifted uncomfortably in the leather saddle before following Eirwen. “The Blight destroyed this place, did it not?” He asked, looking over at her from beneath his hood.

She nodded stiffly, staring ahead. “It seeped into the soil and killed any signs of life within it. No soil meant no grass or trees, which meant no elephants, and therefore no lions. Nothing has grown here since.” She stopped them in a place apparently no more remarkable than any other in the wasteland and dismounted. He followed her, a few feet behind.

“From what I’ve read, it was the sight of a great battle during the Second Blight. The earth is stained with tainted blood...” He shook his head, feeling a shiver despite the heat. “I cannot imagine the horrors they must have seen. Even in the Fade, it is not the same.”

“No, it’s not,” she replied bluntly, and he swallowed hard.

“You have seen things most cannot fathom.” He shook his head. “Why come here, vhenan?”

“Because it’s not all terrible.” She stepped forward and knelt in the sand, gesturing for him to come down with her. “The Blight is like a scar here, but even scars can heal.” He looked at her, at the ragged, faded marks on her dark skin. “It takes time, and magic, but it’s possible.”

She carefully spread the sand apart, digging down until she’d created a semi-stable hole. He watched silently, curiously, as she took a small object from her pocket and pushed it gently into the ground. Then she sat back on her heels and took her water canteen from her bag. She poured it over the object, drowning it, then waved her hand over the hole.

He felt the Veil shift and saw sparks shiver from her hand. Lightning washed over the hole and spread out into the sand, darkening threads through the sediment.

“This is the important part,” she said, reaching into her bag again to retrieve a small vial of dark, glimmering blood. His brows knit and a question started to form on his lips. “Dragon blood,” she said, before he could ask. She popped open the vial and tilted it, letting red-black liquid fall into the hole. 

It hissed when it hit the sand, letting off steam as it seeped into the ground. He stayed quiet, patient, waiting for a purpose. She let out a slow, shaky breath and he felt the Veil shift again, shifting towards her, giving him the slightest tug. He looked at her now, at the concentration furrowing her brows, at the hard stare she leveled at the seed.

Another stiff desert breeze blew through them, disrupting the hole, but she didn’t seem to care. The harsh sun drew sweat to his forehead and he took a long drink from his canteen.

It happened slowly, so slowly that at first he didn’t notice anything was happening at all. But gradually, with an effort that made her magic twist the Veil tight as a vice, a small green sprout broke from the seed. It rose, fed by the sunlight and the magic she forced into it. Higher and higher it grew, until it was easily six inches tall. A thick bud formed on the end of it, and with another harsh tear of magic it spread into a vibrant purple flower.

She sat back, panting heavily, eyes closed. He kept staring at it, mesmerized, still entranced even as she collapsed into his lap and groaned with exhaustion.

He instinctively rested his hand on her stomach, touching her just because he could. His other hand reached for the flower, and he stroked the soft, sturdy petals with gentle fingers. “This is incredible, Eirwen.”

She laughed, and when she spoke he could hear her smile. “You think so? I’m glad. I wanted to show you something that would be new for you.” He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “It seems like you’ve seen everything before, in the Fade.” She lay on her side, eyes squinted nearly shut to protect from the sun’s violent gaze. “I wanted to show you something you couldn’t find there.”

He smirked and leaned down to kiss her cheek, earning himself a happy hum. “You already show me plenty of things I cannot find in the Fade, vhenan.”

She groaned and sat up, shifting so she was beside him again. “Don’t be so sappy, you’ll ruin it.”

“Is your flower allergic to romance?” He asked with a smirk. 

“Just excessive sweet-talking.” But she was smiling, and blushing, and then she kissed him slow and deep.

When they separated, it was not because either truly wanted to. The sun was too hot, the sand starting to burn through their pants, and frankly, they both could use a bath. “That technique,” he said as they stood, holding her hands in his. “How applicable is that to animals?”

“Not very.” She sighed. “Trust me, I’ve tried. You can clarify certain parts of the soil, but a body is too... fast. The dragon blood can do much worse things to you before you can actually get something useful from it.”

He clicked his tongue and frowned. “It is a start, though.”

“It is. But I feel like I never get far from that.” She pulled away from him and started to mount her horse, leaving him to watch her.

“Perhaps... one day you could return this place to what it was.”

She snorted and slung her leg over her horse. “I’d need a lot of lyrium for that.”

He smiled and walked up to her, admiring how the sun made her dark skin gleam. He also, admittedly, rather liked seeing her above him. “Or we could casually tear down the Veil and reshape the world how we see fit.”

She raised an eyebrow. “To grow a few more flowers?”

“And bring back some elephants.”

“Lions too?”

“Of course.”

She smiled and straightened in her seat. “I’ll think about it, love. It sounds like a lot of work, though.”

“Ah, perhaps too much.”

“I’m very lazy.” She leaned over, cupped his cheeks, and strained her side to kiss him. “Now get on your horse. I need more water.”

“Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan.”

As he walked back to his mount she grinned, watching how his hips shifted with each step. Her hands shook as she took the reins, as she hid how exhausted she was from him. Her magic was weaker here, though it shouldn’t have been. In this place, where the Blight scarred the lands, the song was much stronger. It interrupted her spells, made it harder for her to penetrate the Veil. But it was worth it to show him that renewal was possible, that beauty could be born from desert sand. 

if you enjoyed this fic, please hit the reblog button on this post. comments are cool but not necessary -you can leave no tags, a keysmash, or even just ‘nice’ if you’d like! thanks for your support -arden <3

[guardian-angel-beneath-the--blog]

From June, 2019 (currently may 2020) — almost another year later and here I still am...

I’m letting you go. I’m letting you go, not because I have stopped loving you, but quite the opposite — because I love you, I need to be able to see you be happy, even if that’s without me. I hope you find someone who doesn’t have as much clutter in their head; someone who won’t make the mistake of letting you go only to regret it every sunrise to sunset for over a year. I hope you find someone who looks at you the way I did when you would sing in the car and tap Your steering wheel with your finger pads and dance around with your head. I hope you find someone you think about every time you see the ocean or a beautiful sunset, the way I think of you. I hope you find someone who will kiss and caress each and every one of your scars, seeing them as beautiful battle wounds of strength and reinvention. I hope you find someone who will lay in bed and trace their fingers across your hair and head as you sleep so peacefully till the late morning, smiling at how handsome you are, like I would. I hope you get breakfast in bed, with coffee on your side table — of course. & cute little notes to be found in your lunchbox reminding you how special you are. You work so hard, I hope you can find someone who will understand that and want to make simple tasks that may take time, like meal prepping, out of your busy schedule for you. I hope you find someone who can’t keep their hands off of you because they love you so so much (although I hope they don’t touch your butt too much, knowing that aggravated you a bit) I hope you find someone who’s eyes and heart light up when you enter a room, as mine would. I hope you find someone adventurous, someone to travel east to west with, coast to coast. To star gave with at night and beach bum by day, collecting all the sea glass and catching serious feelings all over again whenever they see how beautiful those eyes of yours are, especially when they catch a glimpse of the sun. I hope you find someone who lets you be you, unconditionally. Someone who does not try to command or rule you. You are too beautiful inside and out to let someone else steer your car of life. I hope you find someone who loves watching you cook dinner and bake and how excited you get — you know, when you bust a silly dance or bring your hands together like a praying mantis the cute way you use too when you’re running around the kitchen getting ingredients or utensils. I hope you find someone who enjoys your hugs and your oh so gentle hands and touch like I did, the hands that made everything feel like it was going to be okay. I hope you find someone who loves holding your hand while driving and kissing every inch of your body. I hope you find someone who is more interested in that beautiful brain of yours than anything else. I hope you find someone you can honest and truthful with, without feeling guilty or scared. I hope you find someone who enjoys reading in bed next to you until it’s time to snug. I hope you find someone who likes to smoke, make mozzarella sticks and Dino nugs, then make love right before they’re done. I hope you find someone to play video games with and someone you can teach basketball to like you did with me. I hope you find someone who sees how great you are with kids, and someone who sees you the sexiest when you’re holding a baby. I hope you find someone who wants you to be the father of their children like I so wanted you to be mine. I hope you find someone who loves to see how excited you get at concerts, or when something new from amazon comes in from the mail. I hope you find someone who will make you your favorite desserts or bring you all your favorite candy. I hope you can find someone to dance around the kitchen with, feeling like you’re floating in outer space. I could go on forever, for all the things I wish for you. You were, and I’m sure still are, nothing short of incredible. I was truly the lucky one and I hope I can also find someone who loved me the way you did. Someone who was excited to see me when they woke up, or excited to find me and give me a hug and a snug once they realize I woke up hours ago and am not to be found in bed. I hope I find someone who actually listens to me when I talk, the way you did. Someone who gives genuine advice and truly looks out for my best interest. I hope I find someone who looks at me the way you did, even on my darkest days and nights. I hope I find someone who could put up with half the stuff I had put you through. I hope I find someone who sees beauty in the darkest and ugliest features. I hope i find someone who I just want to squeeze the shit out of again because of how much i love them. Someone I want to constantly be on, with and reminding, how much I love them. I hope I find another built-in best friend. Someone to play with, work with, smoke with, dance with, love with. Someone who loves the beach as much as me, and keeping it clean. Someone who loves coloring and drawing. Someone who makes me feel beautiful even after eating that large ice cream. Someone who makes life feel like kindergarten again, where everything is so easy and enjoyable. I hope i find someone who makes me laugh as hard as you. I hope i find someone who whenever I touch them it just feels right, like an electric connection. Most of all I hope you find someone who tells you all these things sooner than later. I hope you find someone who won’t make the same mistake I made and let insecurities, addiction and fear of exploration ruin an amazing thing. Unfortunately you were the right person for me, but it was at such a dark time of my life. If I could love you now, it would be unbearable. You would get the real me, and I will regret for a lifetime that you had me when I couldn’t love life or myself, affecting how I treated you and our relationship. I’m going to miss everything about you, creature with the sunset tattoos. From your gentle fingers, to your bowed legs. From your cute childish sleepy voice in the morning to your love for stuffed animals while sleeping. I could go on and on but I’m letting you go..