#(that scarf looks familiar hmmm)
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aronkiepronkie · 4 months ago
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"dude, tanaka, bro. you don't get it. she's super mega better than kiyoko." "but no one's better than queen kiyoko, noya!" tanaka argues, he looks at noya like he's out of his mind, noya simply shakes his head with his hands firmly placed on his hips. "nope, yn's like...i dunno. whats better than a queen?" noya thinks, his hand leaves his hips to tap his finger on his chin and tanaka stares at the short boy, awaiting his answer. "stop looking at me!" noya yells at tanakas intense gaze. "no matter what you say, or how angrily you look at me, i wont change my mind!" he says loudly, stomping dramatically out the classroom. "but noya!" tanaka protests, trying to catch noyas attention to no avail. "cant talk, i gotta meet yn in the smart class!" "noya!" tanakas angry shouts go deaf to noyas ears as he makes his way to your class.
you scribble words in your notebook before closing it, glancing to your phone when it vibrates, noyas name illuminating the screen.
"hey pretty girl"
"im coming over to ur class rn"
you smile at the messages and grab your phone to text him a simple, "okay, i packed you some lunch" "hope ur hungry <3". the last text you sent was a bit of a silly one, you never had to hope he was hungry for your homemade lunches because he would always scarf the food down in less than 5 minutes while he listens intently to what you have to ramble on about, slipping in a few jokes with a stuffed mouth, full of food, that never failed to make you laugh. you glance at the time, its only been a minute after your teacher announced it was lunch, and noya was already sprinting to your class to see you. the door swings open and an excited shout of your name follows. you look up at the familiar voice and see noya confidently striding towards you, dragging a chair next to you and sitting in it, his arm swinging over your shoulder, a few curious eyes stare, noya pays no attention, his eyes practically shaped in beating red hearts as he stares at you, a dopey grin splayed across his face, and he speaks up. "hey gorgeous." he starts, stroking his fingers through your hair as he admires you. "hmmm, yn...you kinda look like you're missing something today." he asks, tilting his head as he scans your face and you just chuckle. this isn't the first time he's said this to you, you'll ask, "what am i missing today, noya?" and he'll respond with a big, toothy smile, "a big fat kiss on those pretty lips of yours.". today's no different, you don't stop the passionate boy from leaning in, angling his head to the right and raising his hand to cup your cheek. his soft lips (that he spends way too much time trying to make as soft as they can possibly be for you) meet yours in a slow, sensual way, a quiet smacking noise leaving both of your collided lips. noyas body scoots closer to yours and he tries to discreetly grab at your waist, but you swat his hand away before his greedy fingers could reach under your shirt. "noya." you warn him against his lips. "hehe, oops." is all he mutters before pulling your mouth onto his again, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, subtly asking for you to part your lips so he can explore your mouth, and you pull away. "seriously?" you deadpan at him, furrowing your brows. "what? you look seriously super duper extra mega pretty today. can't help myself." he confesses, a smile still present on his lips, a lovesick look in his eyes that's screaming "you're so beautiful and i love you so much" so painfully loud. you can't help but smile at the gaze he gives you, and you cover his face with your palm, pushing his head to the side as you reach for your bag. "oouh! is it time for my food?" noya exclaims, his smile growing wider as you pull out a bento box, snapping the sides open and his eyes glow at the onigiri and steamed meat buns. "yn!" he cries out your name loudly and immediately grabs a meat bun, shoving the whole thing in his mouth, melting at the delicious taste. "yn! you're so kind! making me food...its so yummy!" he bawls out in happiness, chewing contently with his eyes closed. "you're welcome, noya." "thank you! thank you yn! you're the best girlfriend ever!" he thanks you over and over, taking a big bite out of the onigiri.
hes so cute literally bf goals. also meat buns are so flipping good pls im craving them now
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suntoru · 2 years ago
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a/n: hello lovelies, how are u doing? im currently getting off my lazy ass and working on prompts right now <3 this fic was made for @dabis-nipple-rings, thank you for making a request!
warnings: fluff, a bit of swearing, gn! reader
back to prompt list
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“doll, what’re you doin’?” dabi rasps. you’re practically choking him with the tightness of the scarf you have wrapped around his neck. it’s not very inconspicuous to be doing this in a bus stop at 11 pm, but he doesn’t mind.
“hmmm? oh, i’m keeping you warm! you cant expect to wear your slutty little costume and not freeze to death.” “my what?” he glares, his eyes piercing into you. “nothing, nevermind.” you giggle as dabi just sighs, tired of your antics.
he looks down, expecting a normal brown or black scarf, but his eyes almost pop out when he sees the bright pink hello kitty one you’ve chosen especially for him. “i’m not fucking wearing this.” he grunts, tugging the cute scarf off. “what? why?” you whine. “i got matching ones for us!” reaching into your bag, you pull out a identical pink scarf.
“please?” “no.” “pretty please?” “no.” “pretty pretty please?” you beg, putting on your best puppy eyes for him. “…no.” you continue to beg him for the next ten minutes, but he doesn’t budge. it feels like he’s taunting you, and it’s driving you insane.
“fine. sorry for wanting to actually act like a fucking couple for once.” you huff, turning away from him. you stomp out of the tiny bus station, forgetting about the snowy storm outside. the freezing snow instantly stings your cheeks, and it’s so cold outside, your flimsy jacket isn’t of any use. internally cursing at the world, you keep ignoring it until a warm hand pulls you to a muscular figure.
the frame is large, and it wraps around you. the person’s body is cozy and comfortable, and you melt right into it. your eyelashes flutter for a couple of minutes until you realize you’re cuddling with a random stranger in the middle of the night.
“oh shit, sorry sir, i have a boyfrie-” you look up, only to see a familiar head of black hair. “toya?” his eyes don’t quite meet yours, instead looking off to the side. oh. he’s wearing the scarf. you feel your heart combust as you break off into a giddy grin. “you wore it just for me?” you softly speak, but he doesn’t answer you, choosing to pull you closer into him. normally you would’ve been satisfied with that, but today, you feel like teasing him.
“hey.” you poke his cheek, pouting slightly. “look at me.” when he doesn’t respond, you pull his face out of your neck and cup his jaw. his lips are jutted out, his cheeks are dusted pink, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so soft. in that moment, it feels like time has frozen, and you can’t think of anything to say. the snow is still falling, and the air is still frosty, but your heart has never been so warm.
after a while of standing there, you break the comfortable silence in the most dabi way possible. “awww, are you blushing?” “fuck off, it’s just the cold air.”
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oliversrarebooks · 1 year ago
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can we see fitz's far less patient approach to taking a thrall?👉👈
I'm working on a much longer piece about Fitz's magic show, but I wanted to write a short holiday piece to cheer up anyone who might be cheered up by a vampire kidnapping them off the street.
Couldn't be me.
TW: hypnosis, kidnapping
It's a cold day, much colder than you expected it to be when you went out Christmas shopping. The sun's already long since down, the street lamps are flickering to life, and snow is falling gently from the sky, sticking in your hat and scarf. If you don't make it out of the cold soon, you feel like you might freeze to the sidewalk. But all the streets look alike, and none of them look familiar.
As you're trying to get your bearings, you run straight into a young man in a dark green peacoat, almost spilling all of your shopping. "Sorry, sir! I didn't see you there."
"Oh, no need to apologize," he says with a quick flash of a smile. He kneels down to pick up a bag you dropped. "Are you lost?"
You're not keen on admitting that to a total stranger, but something about him puts you at ease. "Not seriously... I only just came from Clarkson's Five and Dime, and I'm trying to find my way back to Grove Street."
"I see. I think I can help," he says. But instead of pointing you in the right direction or handing you back your bag, he reaches out with his hand -- ungloved, on a chill winter night -- and brushes a snowflake from your cheek.
His hand is cold, so freezing cold, but you feel flooded with delightful warmth, as if you're sitting by a roaring fire. It's so comforting that you ignore the alarm bells in your mind trying to warm you, and instead stay stock still as he steps closer and caresses your cheek.
"There you are," he says. "Feeling better?"
"Yes... sir..." you say. The world around you is starting to blur, a featureless haze of gas lamps and shop windows. All you can focus on is eyes the color of rainclouds.
He smiles, and you might be able to recognize something wrong with his grin, if only you weren't feeling so utterly relaxed and calm and helpless.
"Let me take your bags." He pulls them from your arms, never breaking eye contact, before replacing his hand on your cheek. He plucks your hat from your head and pets your hair, and you don't mind a bit, because you're so warm that you don't need it. "I'll help put you to sleep."
Sleep? That doesn't seem right. "I was... I was trying to get to Grove Street..." you explain again, your words sounding weak and shaky.
"No." His finger brushes your cheek. "You were trying to get to sleep. You're so tired, and that's dangerous out in this snow. You need to find some place to sleep."
A yawn escapes you. It's true. You've been shopping all day, and now that you're warm, you're so very, very drowsy. "I need to sleep..." you agree.
"Yes, you need to sleep. You're so sleepy, and you're sleepier every minute you're out in the snow. Your eyes are so droopy it looks like you can barely keep them open." He smiles again. "It's an awfully good thing I've found you."
"Mmmm... mmm hmmm..." You feel like you could agree with anything he has to say. You're practically asleep on your feet, and it's only his arm around your waist that's holding you up now. You let your head come to rest on his shoulder, letting your eyes rest.
The next thing you know, strong arms are scooping you up off the sidewalk. You're in the strange man's arms, and it feels so normal and natural. "I need to take you someplace a little more private so I can take my meal and so that you can rest," he says into your ear. "How does that sound?"
You snuggle in close to the wool coat. It smells of flowers, expensive soaps. You find it hard to be bothered that the man is taking you anywhere. You're so warm and you just want to curl up and go to sleep.
He chuckles. "Sometimes I really can't believe what easy marks humans are. I suppose I was too, once."
You stir, your sleeping mind trying to understand what he means.
"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."
@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity
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wa-royal-tea · 2 years ago
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— Beautiful Stranger; New Years’ Special
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Previous | Beginning | Next
(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)
Note: Nobody asked for this but hey, I started last year with Child Rae so I thought I’d start this New Year with Young Adult Rae 😌 I think I’ve posted a still shot of this scene a year ago hmmm 🤔 Anyways, happy new year everyone! I hope this new year brings you guys good luck and great health! ❤ And thank you for sticking around with the Fredericks! ❤
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Raeliana: Papa, I’m going out to the gardens.
Alfie: No, Rae. It’s night out there. I don’t want you to be alone.
Raeliana: I won’t be alone. I’m sure Uncle Leon has security all over the place.
Alfie: Rae...
Raeliana: I’ll be fine, papa. Promise.
Leon: If you’re that worried, I’ll have someone to accompany her.
Leon: Please accompany Princess Raeliana in the gardens. Keep her guarded at all times.
Security: Of course, your majesty.
Alfie: Thank you, Leon. Rae, don’t go too far. Alright?
Raeliana: I won’t.
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Raeliana: You. What’s your name?
Danny: Danny, ma’am. Is there anything I can help you with?
Raeliana: I’m a bit cold. Can you go inside and get something to keep me warm?
Danny: But ma’am, the King ordered me to keep you guarded.
Raeliana: I won’t go anywhere. I’ll wait over here until you come back.
Danny: But your highness—
Raeliana: Please, Danny. I’m really cold. Do you want me to freeze to death? You’ll get in trouble if I become sick.
Danny: *sighs* Alright. I won’t be long. Don’t go anywhere, your highness.
Raeliana: Okay. I’ll be here...
Raeliana: *scoffing*...away from you.
???: Let me guess, you’re not a fan of big crowds?
Raeliana: Not really. It was just getting stuffy in there.
???: You know, you’re in the palace’s secret garden. No one knows this place existed.
Raeliana: How did you know, then?
???: I’m...familiar with this place.
Raeliana: Have we met before? You look familiar.
???: I’ve been told I have a common looking face.
Raeliana: I don’t think so. I’m sure we’ve met before.
???: It’s probably a look alike.
Alfie (in the background): Rae! Raeliana! Where are you?
Leon: I’m sure she’s around here. Danny, tell the others to look for her.
Alfie: We need to be quick. What if she was taken away a—
Leon: She’s not. There’s security all over the palace. No one is going to take her away. Guards! Search for the Princess now!
???: I think you should go. Your papa is looking for you.
Raeliana: Urgh. Can’t he give me some alone time?
???: Come on. I’ll show you the way out.
Raeliana: Thank you. Whoever you are.
???: Your welcome. Now go, before he loses his mind.
Raeliana: But I didn’t get your name.
???: It’s...
Alfie: Rae!
Alfie: Oh my god, you got me worried sick!
Raeliana: I’m fine, papa. I was just walking around.
Alfie: Danny said you disappeared after he went to get you a scarf.
Raeliana: I’m sorry...
Alfie: Please, Rae. Please, don’t do this again. The thought of you getting hurt is going to give me a heart attack.
Raeliana: I won’t do it again. Promise.
Alfie: Come on. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting for us. The countdown is starting soon.
Alfie: Rae? What are you looking at?
Raeliana: Oh, it’s nothing.
Alfie: Who was that guy earlier? He looked important.
Raeliana: I don’t know. I didn’t get his name.
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riverdale-retread · 1 year ago
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Riverdale S7 E4 Love and Marriage
Jughead and Ethel are in big doodoo. The principal has his own grim looking photo, unduly large, outside his office. The ego on this big ugly white man! Why is it so familiar? Hmmm.
The three hideous old people (well Sheriff Keller is handsome but that doesn’t make him any less hideous) are giving the Ethelhead the third degree, and Ethelhead are defending themselves the best they can:
The picture she drew of making mincemeat of her parents! → That was a joke!
The comic book issue with the murdering milkman! → She really did see one the night of the murder!
Why did Jughead hide all this stuff like a dirty secret? → Not answered because what he was trying to avoid is happening exactly right now!
Jughead sternly tells the agitated Ethel to stop answering questions until they talk to a lawyer. (Why oh Why can’t we have Ethelhead for real? They look really cute together. And his sweater’s red S matches her scarlet turtleneck ‘n’ scarf combo.
The way you know that Dupont (the now child psychiatrist, but my S4 loving self refuses to learn this new name they gave him) is a bad man is because he speaks in hoary cliches with such relish. “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Dude. Do better.
Ethelhead get hauled down to the station. On their way out of the school, Jughead is seen by Veronica, who is wearing her headband of pearls that makes her look like an angel. Jughead grimly tells her he’s being railroaded. Veronica in all universes is the right person to talk to when things are going wrong, so I’m hopeful things will work out for Jughead (though probably not Ethel, because Veronica doesn’t care about her so far this season).
Meanwhile, in the boy’s shower room, Jason confronts Archie. He wants to know how very dare Archie take advantage of Cheryl, going “all the way” with her. The general acceptance that everyone has even in this timeline of the Blossoms being weird people means Archie finds it perfectly normal to talk to Cheryl’s brother about sex while naked boys (well, American TV naked- two boys are showering in the back and one shirtless pantless one walks by in a towel) are all about.
Archie finds Cheryl and takes her to some room (not the music room, because the music room is for sexy times at Riverdale High) to confront her. He’s wearing very excellent white shoes. Cheryl is in the same shade of red all over like Ethel but I don’t suppose that means anything. Archie - for the benefit of the narrative but also because he’s a bit of a dim bulb is making sure that he didn’t just pass out and miss going all the way with Cheryl.
Can I just ask why Cheryl is so much better at faking straightness than Kevin? (This is in direct parallel with Kevin and Betty, of course.). It isn’t just a matter of Betty being smarter than Archie (she is) but also Cheryl knows how to be seductive with boys. The way she places her perfectly manicured hands on Archie’s chest is so perfectly calculated that he gets the heart shaped lighting happening in his irises.
Meanwhile, in fail gaydom with Failgay Kevin who I hate this season~ Betty and Kevin are outside where it is so cold Betty is sitting with gloves on and you can see their breath. Kevin does not want to have sex with Betty until they are married (or ever). Betty dumps him immediately.
Then she goes to go cry about it to the local closeted lesbian, who reacts with “Boys ruin everything.” At first Toni thinks that Betty is crying because Kevin tried to guilt trip her into allowing him to rape her, but Betty forthrightly tells her (through the most adorable scrunched up face of tears) that it was she who wanted to get laid. Toni continues to say the right thing - “More girls should do what you did!” Toni with all the right takes. She even calls Kevin by the right moniker - the ‘Supposed Boyfriend.’ Then she does what all gay girls do when consoling a hot girl upset about her ex boyfriend - ask her to be alone together in a dark room (THE DARK ROOM HAHAHA I see what you did there Riverdale), and maybe touch her leg a ilttle bit (which Toni also does).
Meanwhile - what a jam packed morning - meanwhile while Cheryl is seducing Archie and Toni is trying to seduce Betty after Betty dumped Kevin, Veronica is visiting Jughead in jail. The Stupid Hat Powers prevail so they are allowing him to still keep his crown.
Veronica, because she is wonderful, asks how Ethel is doing, to Jughead. But I don’t know how Jughead would know, since they are unlikely to be kept in the same cell. Jughead sounds very calm as he relays what he’s heard about procedure, but he’s got a double fisted death grip on the bars, poor thing. Jeronica have this two-brainiac-hipsters-vibing-off-each-other chemistry that I find completely enchanting. They literally speak in non stop references at each other which (TMI) is not at all fun to be next to but is DELIGHTFUL form of folie a deux. Anyway, Jughead in this universe is actually capable of advocating for himself instead of offering to die to solve things, and suggests that if he could get exonerated first, THEN he can help Ethel. Veronica is a woman always in search of a project, so she goes off to find the coroner of the town that Jughead naturally doesn’t know, in order to ascertain the time of death for Ethel’s parents.
Archie comes home to find that Mary Andrews, looking wonderful in royal blue with a strand of pearls, is disgusted and upset that her son has fucked Cheryl (allegedly). Archie is so uncomfortable about having to discuss sex with his mom that he crinkles his forehead exactly like Luke Perry used to in that show in the 90s. It’s not at all clear what upsets Mary most - having to receive a call from Penelope Blossom, having to talk about her son’s penis with Penelope Blossom, the thought of Archie having sex, the thought of Archie having sex with Cheryl, or having to talk about all of the above with Archie. I suspect it’s the choice of a BLOSSOM that upsets her the most, but she’s very funny to me. This actress’s slightly spaced-out line readings always bothered me, but she seems perfectly suited to this particular era. As she gloweringly passes Archie, he hunches down all cutely chastized. He has to put on a suit to go have dinner at the Blossoms!
And cut to dinner at the Blossoms! everyone is color coordinated in reds and blacks except for Mary who is wearing cream with a purple collarline. Clifford Blossom is dressed like Gomez Addams but he is nowhere near as fun. He is in fact a McCarthyite. To Archie’s terror (i love 50s Archie - he has such an endearing deer in headlights look), Clifford wants his thoughts on “the Russia problem.” Archie is looking around the room, and pieces together what he thinks the right answer might be like he’s trying to read hidden cue cards tucked into the corners. Russia! it’s a -. A Big! A Massive! Problem. [more pause] CLEARLY.
The way he gets told he’s a smart young man after sounding as dumb as a bag of broken bricks is how white male privilege works. Guys will literally say the most obvious, stupid thing and then older guys will promote them ahead of me and pay them special bonuses. The music director plays a ‘whimsical comedy’ type plinking over it but no, dear, this is how the world actually works. The way Archie goes from scared to smug in a nono second? Too real. Too too real.
The way Mary is just sat there ignored - nobody asks her what SHE thinks about anything - until Clifford summarily tells her they are going to have a talk later (not a question but an order) just is the icing on this shit cake.
Meanwhile, Cheryl and Archie go on a walk. In this universe, Cheryl never met Fred Andrews, which means “You’re looking especially DILFY today, Mr Andrews” or whatever the 50s equivalent is (You’re looking especially gitchy today?) never happened which means if this had been S1 of Riverdale I would never have been hooked! Archie says that his dad was his best friend (ah, but Archie were YOU the best friend to your father? I bet not!). They went to the movies together almost every weekend. Even before he left for the Korean War, apparently Fred’s fantasy was to go out west with Archie (and JUST Archie) and live as cowboys (with JUST Archie). Thinking about running away somewhere makes Cheryl feel romantic (???) towards Archie. It looks genuine, which is very disconcerting.
Toni is all smiles as she leads Betty down the steps to the Dark Room only to see that boys indeed actually do ruin everything - Kevin is there, slowdancing with Clay. I mean, this is exactly what Toni was hoping to do with Betty, I would think, but yes, Kevin does ruin everything. Toni tries to get out of there, but it’s too late and boy Kevin and Clay are physically too big for teeny tiny Toni to hide them effectively from view. Betty is confronted with the terrible evidence that her boyfriend of two years who made her feel so bad about her normal urges is in fact not into girls, and has been lying to her this whole time. She runs out.
Veronica to the rescue! It turns out the extremely incompetent Sheriff Keller, father of the very terrible Kevin Keller, never even checked the coroner’s report to ascertain the time of death. Jughead has an airtight alibi! Sheriff Keller doesn’t want to acknowledge he was wrong, so he still natters on about how this doesn’t account for Ethel. Veronica tells him to hop to it to release Jughead.
Jeronica immediately go to Pop’s, where Jughead gets a chocolate milkshake and a huge burger. In between bites, Jughead drops this bomb: Ethel told him that while her parents were being murdered, Ethel had been doing the “car seat chacha” with Julian Blossom.
Oh but that does make sense, actually. The Blossoms can only fuck redheads!
Ethel was down for some casual necking, but when Julian tried to get “handsy” (which is such a confusing euphemism since it can mean anything from groping a tit to shoving a finger up a butt) she walloped him. Ethel is all my tall strong girl fantasies because the force by which she slaps Julian almost twists his head off its stem. Julian, possibly now nursing a black eye, threatened to make a laughingstock of Ethel by spreading a rumor about her “nymphomania.” This is what Kevin called Betty once already - Kevin is the worst. Julian is terrible, but Kevin is just as bad!
Jughead is still such a wonderful friend to Ethel. The Feminine Mystique was not published until 1963 but Jughead fully understands how gender oppression and politics works, which I think all men do, and is ACTUALLY willing to acknowedge it, which most men still aren’t. He makes it his mission to make Julian do the honorable thing. “God help us.” Yup.
Betty comes sadly home to her mother, who has received a phone call from Kevin’s mother, who we have hardly ever seen. Kevin’s mom has been insisting that her boy is devastated! So upset! Betty tells her that she now knows her ex so called boyfriend was gay THIS WHOLE TIME. Alice Cooper acts like this is totally normal, calmly inviting Betty to take a seat. They play horror music over Alice telling Betty the most insane bullshit - that she owes it to Kevin (Betty owes Kevin??) to see him through a “sexual identity crisis.” Alice Cooper always finds the worst possible way to react, doesn’t she? And she somehow thinks that it’s fine to marry someone who is not only not attracted to your whole sex but also lied about it for two years to your face on a daily basis. Is this saying something about Hal? (Is that why he’s a serial killer?)
Jughead comes home to find that his little trailer is trashed. Again! By Keller! And even his dog is missing!! Poor Jughead.
Back at the Andrews, Mary is dishing the dirt about Clifford. He sold maple syrup to the Army at a premium during the Korean War (I really want them to stop talking about the Korean War on this my escapism show), plus he’s a hypocrite and draft dodger. Then she says a really terrifying thing - that she’s linked together with the Blossoms for “the rest of her ilfe” because (she thinks) Cheryl and Archie fucked once. They have decided the two need to get married - after the compatibility test. Archie makes a sound in his throat like he wants to vomit. “Think of Cheryl’s honor!!’
The thing is, who is threatening Cheryl’s honor? I mean, does anyone even know about this? Who else would spread this around if not Penelope??
Is Cheryl pretending to pregnancy as well??
The next day, Midge and Fangs are pregnant (She’s “never late” and now she is.) Fangs says he loves her, and they are going to figure it out. Fangs is being honorable.
Inside the hallway of the school, however, Jughead and Veronica approach Julian, who is anything but honorable. He refuses to alibi Ethel, because she’s “inappropriate” for a Blossom to schtupp. He calls Ethel “cheap thrills.” For this, Jughead Jones squares up with both fists to punch Julian right in the face, knocking him to the ground.
HOORAY.
Violence plus public shaming - Jughead shouts at him about being entitled and taking advantage of “my friend Ethel!” - actually works on Julian, who gives a statement that finally renders Ethel from ‘active suspect’ status. Sheriff Keller uses police words but I have not forgotten that he didn’t even look up time of death on the coroner’s report. Jeronica SUCCEEDED!
Plus, once again, what a wonderful friend Jughead Jones is.
According to the creepy Dupont/ Wertheim? Werthers? there are only three things that need to be checked for marital compatibility:
1. Similarity of background
2. Close friendship
3. Understanding the concept of marriage
They definitely don’t have 1) and in answer to the close friendship question Cheryl just laughs, because she is friends with nobody and Archie says he gets along with everyone (which kind of is the same thing). Then Dupont says that Archie is going to be burdened with fidelity, “which goes against our nature as men” but then apparently the way to make a cheater not cheat is to use a combination of saying only nice things, listening and making him food. Cheryl is wearing a very funereal black scarf around her neck, which looks like a noose.
Werther calls Penelope to tell her the children are compatible. Mary is there with her, looking like she wants to vomit. Penelope lays it out for her - Archie is the only other redhead child in town, so that makes them perfect.
At the Dark Room, Fangs makes his inability to practice proper birth control Toni’s problem. She says she’s going to do something at the lab, so he’s to bring Midge.
Betty comes to find Kevin in the music room. When she says she saw him and Clay, Kevin’s first act is to be misogynist, snorting with contemptuous dismissal. I hate Kevin so much. This reminds me of American OG feminist tracts about the hideous misogyny and sexism of homosexual men before lesbians turned out in force for AIDS sufferers - they were the worst kinds of men, apparently, and Kevin is one of them! He’s still lying to her, by the way. Because what must’ve happened was Kevin went to the locker room to look at naked boys to soothe his ego being bruised about Betty refusing to be his unacknowledged beard anymore, then ran into Clay there and sucked his dick. WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID KEVIN.
Kevin says that if he had known what he was, he wouldn’t have wasted Betty’s time.
This is scene almost took me out of Riverdale fandom wholesale by the way.
The way they play tender music over this.
The way Betty has to further lower herself to say she “doesn’t understand most of this” when she actually does, perfectly.
The way that KEVIN - FUCKING MISOGYNIST KEVIN, CONDESCENDING LYING PIECE OF SHIT KEVIN - is told by Betty that he DIDN’T WASTE HER TIME “at least not to me.”
I WANT KEVIN TO DIE
I HATE THIS SHOW FOR PRIVILEGING KEVIN THIS WAY.
KEVIN DOES NOT DESERVE IT.
CLAY DESERVES BETTER.
BETTY SHOULD KILL KEVIN.
I am so mad.
Because the net effect of this is to make Kevin’s homosexuality (rather than his being a dishonest, condescending piece of shit MAN) the problem, for which Betty must subsume herself.
The narrative appears to validate Kevin’s sexuality but actually what this does is reinforced homophobia. I hate this. I hate Kevin. I hate Riverdale for doing this.
[Taking a break to calm the fuck down]
Ok I’m back.
So at the diner, Cheryl and Archie are trying to make the best of a bad situation. The way Cheryl is so sad but takes the time to be tender and kind to Archie (who is her beard and being forced to marry her under false pretenses) is - oh no putting me right back into my Hating Kevin feelings! Because Cheryl’s been so nice that Archie is actually kind of excited about the idea of being married to her. See, Kevin, if you’re going to trick some person into being your beard, you could be at minimum NICE TO THEM.
The sad, bruised tenderness of Cheryl in this universe is actually what I think Cheryl is really like underneath her HBIC persona, and she hurts me in the best way to consider.
At the other table, Jeronica are celebrating springing Ethel from jail and injustice. (Hey!! Jughead is being this much of a good friend to Ethel because he’s trying to follow the Bend Towards Justice edict laid down by Tabitha!) This Jeronica friendship is basically functions as in-canon fix-it fanfic. Without the pressure to live up to being ‘good enough’ for Betty Cooper, Jughead feels safe just telling someone what’s happened to his home. And Veronica, without having to struggle against Archie’s pride (which he only exercises against her, and not against he Blossoms) can seek the company she craves in her lonesome huge apartment AND engage in the generosity that is her trademark. In short, Veronica invites Jughead to stay with her.
At the high school, Toni is going to use a very interesting pregnancy test - inject a frog with pee to see if the frog lays eggs. Midge is pregnant! For some reason Toni suggest that Fangs get Midge’s parents for her hand but NOT tell them she’s pregnant. Given how the Blossoms are reacting to Cheryl allegedly having had sex with Archie, this seems ill judged.
Jughead has made a huge breakfast spread for Veronica at the Pembroke! Jughead as Little Orphan Annie and Veronica as Daddy Warbucks! This works for me! Jughead is going to go get Hot Dog from the pound, so Veronica offers to ‘spruce up’ his home. They are both going to skip school. The old married couple vibe of this is just so fun.
At school, Archie has finally told Betty that he and Cheryl have never had sex, but will still get married. Archie, poor lamb, thinks that ‘savig Cheryl’ will give him some purpose in life. Betty finds this very sweet, but tells him he shouldn’t go through with it, because she’s learned from experience that love doesn’t just ‘grow.’ Dupont/Werther’s theory about human love is really weird - you start gaining the capacity for sexual love at 17 (?) and then it peaks at 21 (??) after which there is a precipitous drop off I guess?
Cheryl, because she is feeling a bit better about marrying Archie, wears a black-and-white polka dot scarf instead of black noose one. She says Clifford wants to talk to Archie. She intuitively knows that Betty is about to get in her way, so gives her a chilly greeting.
At the meeting with Clifford, we get a hint of why it is Cheryl was willing to go through with this. She had (wrongly) thought that being married to the one acceptable redhead boy in town meant that she would be a) free from Thornhill b) free from her parents and c) be in a family with someone who is kind and decent. Archie is seeking sex with a beautiful woman and purpose in life. Cheryl is seeking a secure living arrangement with a not-monster and a place to hide from her homosexuality.
This could’ve actually worked until it suddenly wouldn’t have.
But of course, Clifford Blossom makes it clear that none of this can come to be. Neither will be sent to college. They will both live at Thornhill. Archie is to spend his life working for his future father in law, always second best to Julian probably, and never get to go to California like he dreamed about with his dad.
The hard cold reality of marriage - WHERE will you live and HOW will you pay for it- being the major wake up call to the betrothed is so real.
Sigh and now we’re back to Fangs, who tells Toni that it didn’t go well when he tried to ask for Midge’s hand in marriage. Toni, even though this was her idea, reads his inappropriateness as a potential mate for Midge in the cruelest way: “you’re a greaser wannabe-rock star.” She hatches a dingbat plan to make Fangs a rockstar in 4 months (when Midge will show).
Is - Is Riverdale playing coy about abortion with this? What is the fear here, that Midge’s parents will use their rich whiteness to force Midge to get an abortion? But since Midge was scared, not elated, to fall pregnant, and Fangs treated it as an emergency rather than good news, abortion is the answer. Tell her parents, get the abortion, and you can keep ‘loving’ each other.
Is Toni Topaz anti choice????
She mentions Romeo & Juliet which we then cut to the extraordinary “Orient Express” style sprucing up of the train car a la Jughead. Jughead is overwhelmed, but I want them to kiss. KISS HER, Jughead. GIVE ME MORE JERONICA. Jugead looks overwhelmed by his surroundings. They play pretty music, but they need to kiSSSSS.
We cut to Betty being confronted by her mother about the sex book. Betty looks amazing in those wide fabric belts. She had a wide green belt for her insane initial talk about Kevin with Alice, and now she’s in a pink one cinched over a flowery dress. Betty stands up for herself, telling Alice that she’s backwards, that she is going to continue to educate herself about sex and sexuality. Ethel comes down from upstairs to bravely fess up that it’s her book (this is the only extant copy of this book in Riverdale I guess?).
Archie is sadly re-reading the one post card he has received from Fred, about “Finaly making it to California.” The sound track warbles, “Who do you suppose I really love?” as Archie thinks about his dad. The only person Archie really cares about in all universes (sorry Jughead) is Fred Andrews.
Cheryl is looking at a post card of Niagara Falls, looking just as sad. Who is this from?? Some girlfriend of hers who got into her own comphet marriage??
Archie finally tells Cheryl he can’t go through with it. When cheryl says that marrying into the Blossoms is too much to ask, that the Blossom (unspoken Curse) is her burden & cross to bear, Archie doesn’t let her mope. He suggests they elope! He understands exactly what they both want - “You could get away from your family. I could get a job on a ranch. Or be a folk singer.” In short, “be free! out west!”
Cheryl says ok, let’s try! And they hold hands as Toni listens.
Oh no, we are back to motherfucking Kevin and his stupid fucking problems and I am HATING RIVERDALE AGAIN OMG RIVERDALE YOU FOUND A WAY TO BREAK ME AT LAST???
Betty says - BETTY ACTUALLY SAYS - “I think you’re so brave.”
Betty you stupid appeasing bitch no he is not. Oh my fucking god is this a Whyte Womyn delusion what the fuck is happening? NO HE ISN’T. KEVIN IS THE LEAST BRAVE PERSON IN THIS ENTIRE SEASON. “Swell to the last,” is the approval that she gets?
FUCK THAT.
SHOOT THE FUCKER IN THE HEAD BETTY.
ANYWAY.
This is how Betty learns that the pin that she got pinned with is all about Alice wanting to fuck Betty and therefore approving her relationship with a gay boyfriend who is a liar who will never fuck her.
Toni confronts Cheryl in the changing room, atelling her not to run away with Archie, because she’s running away from herself. “Archie is a great person with the best heart, and he’s nothing like my family.” People - especially Jughead - have said the ‘great person’ and ‘best heart’ etc about Archie before in all previous seasons, but this is the first and only season when this has actually been shown to be true. Toni the anti-choice meddler tells Cheryl that running from herself is only a short term solution.
Betty is at home, ready to confront Alice about several things. Ethel has been sent away to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy which Betty knows is not a good solution at all. When confronted by the furious Betty about her incestuous feelings, Alice retaliates by telling her she burned the sex book.
Archie is waiting for Cheryl at the bus depot with tickets to California. Weeping, Cheryl drives up to tell him she can’t go with him after all. (Curse of Thornhill). “Archie some day you’re goingn to make some girl very happy - Unfortunately that girl isn’t me,” is what Cheryl says before redirecting him to try to woo Betty. “Write her one of those sweet poems of yours.”
Unchained Melody (Wooo my love) plays as Cheyl approaches Toni. The music isn’t even a little bit subtle. ‘I hunger for your touch’ as Cheryl tells Toni that she decided not to go with Archie. Toni gives her the Price of Salt (sorry, not salt, Pepper hahaha) as a lesbian manual.
Archie is writing a love poem for Betty. he’s about to rush over to give it to her when the secondd worst possible thing happens:
UNCLE FUCKING FRANK IS HERE.
He came to beat the shit out of Archie for wanting to fuck someone other than his own dad, or something.
I HATE UNCLE FUCKING FRANK.
Omg Riverdale you are really testing my limits here.
At the Pembroke, Jughead sadly tells Veronica that he can’t track Ethel down, because all he’s been told is that she’s “at some home for wayward children.” He’s so sad about it. He’s not OK. Veronica consoles him, telling him that he fought hard for Ethel and saved her.
YAAAAAYYY AND THEN THEY KISS!!!
Jughead continues to have pitch perfect reactions. “Wowiee” is exactly how you should feel after kissing Veronica Lodge. Oh I’m so happy.
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stacywaters · 1 year ago
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Written in the Pages (RM) CH1
 𝄆𝄞 Late January, 2013 𝄇
I wrap my scarf loosely around my neck and step out of the house. I stare down at the familiar path of bricks under my feet as I walk to school. The sky is the same shade of gray and despite the brisk wind, there are no leaves on the trees to be rustled.
When I get to school, I sit down at the back of the room and pull out my book to read. My classmates bicker around me but I don't look up, lest I be reminded of my own loneliness. I shut my book tightly once the bell rings, noticing someone sitting only a few desks in front of me. It was Namjoon. I had liked him since around November but learned better than to get my hopes up. He wouldn't even be friends with someone like me. It's not that he was necessarily popular, but he did have some friends. I rarely spoke, so he most likely didn't know my name.
Lessons began and I tried to keep myself from staring. It isn't like anyone would really notice though, as I am in the back corner. It's better if I don't encourage myself and just suppress these feelings like I always have.
Soon enough my classes are over and I'm walking back home. As I go, I notice two girls around my age chatting with each other. They're laughing and seem to be having such a good time, I can't help but feel envious. I haven't had a best friend like that in such a long time. I only start to feel worse listening to what they're saying.
"I know! Taehyung really is so hot... if only he'd notice me!"
"Yeah, but have you seen his friend? What was his name..."
"Namjoon?"
"Yes! He's in one of my classes, I want to get to know him"
"You should!"
"But what do I say?"
"Don't worry about it! I'm sure he likes you back anyway"
"I hope so"
I keep my head down and continue walking. Still, their words get to me. They were both so pretty...oh course he'd go for someone more like them. I'm confident in who I am. Really. It's just that Namjoon is nothing like me. He has plenty of friends and admirers, all of them do. He is going to date someone in his social circle, like them.
Once I get home I grab some banana milk from the fridge and sit down at my desk. Pulling out a pen, I work on my manuscript.
𝄆𝄞 Namjoon POV𝄇
"What's her name?"
I turned to my friend Hoseok and smiled.
"y/n"
"Wait... how long have you had a crush on her?"
"Since spring last year, around April"
"It's almost been a whole year!" Jungkook whined, "why are you only telling us this now?"
"I was nervous! I haven't even talked to her..."
I looked up at my friends who were shocked by my confession. Finally, Jimin spoke up:
"You need to make a plan soon if you ever want her to notice you. You're both graduating this year, remember?"
"I know, but what do I even say to her? She's just so... so perfect. I don't want to ruin any chance I have by saying something stupid"
"Well, you've liked her for this long. Do you know of anything she likes?" Taehyung questioned.
"Hmmm, she's really intelligent. She also really likes books, every time I see her she's reading one. Would that work? Should I try talking to her about that?"
They seemed to approve of that. After talking for a bit longer, I went home and made a plan. Tomorrow I will try talking to her before class starts.
𝄆 𝄞 𝄇
The next day I got up earlier. I walked to class and didn't get distracted talking to people. I was determined. I didn't realize until I settled down in my seat that there were still over fifteen minutes before homeroom would start.
After waiting for only a few minutes, she walked in. She took my breath away, though she was just wearing our school uniform. I started fiddling with my hands under my desk, the nerves getting to me. Slowly I stood from the desk and approached her.
"Um... hi" I mumbled.
She glanced up from her book and immediately her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Did I upset her?
"I just uh.... Wanted to know what book you're reading?"
"Oh." She hesitated, "it's just... something I found in the library. It's in a series actually"
"Nice. Sounds good"
She nodded and looked back down to the pages.
"...maybe I'll check it out"
With that I returned to my seat, hoping it wasn't too obvious how flustered I was. That was my first time actually talking to her! It was so awkward though... Does she not like me? Was something I said wrong? She seemed so indifferent.
𝄆𝄞 Y/N POV𝄇
I stared down at my book but unable to focus at all. What was that? Did my crush actually just talk to me? What is happening?
I sigh to myself. He probably just likes reading too, and wanted to know what book it was. I'm sure it's nothing personal, he doesn't even know my name. Still, a part of me feels excited, like maybe I have a chance.
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omaticwriting · 1 year ago
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Fears- Book 1: Awakening [Chapter Epilogue - take a shot in the dark]
As the two entered the bus and took their seat, Willa and Nicolas slumped and broke whatever composure remained within them from the night before. The latter of the duo more so as he looked to the forest. His unquestioning disdain reared for a brief moment before he watched it all pass by.
-I should really get my thoughts in order…- he mentally mused. Much had happened with little time to comprehend during the course of the night, he could only wish he could forget. Even if the possibility of it all was as little as the information hidden from him with his newfound omniscience.
But as he slowly closed his eyes, hoping the troubles of tonight could be chased away by the dawn of today a very calculated but still very high-pitched voice roused him from his near slumber.
“Nic?” His body tensed and yet it relaxed as fast he flinched, looking to the seats across his and Willa’s. 
There were two kids, roughly adolescent, possibly younger, one a boy and the other a girl. They gave Nicolas a look of weary, but he was glad all the same to see his cousins regardless of how much he went through. And he wouldn’t trade their care for anything regardless of the years that go by.
The boy wore a white shirt with black overalls & white sneakers, his hair was covered by a dark grey flat cap alongside a white eyepatch covering the right of his dark brown eyes. Which roused some worry, then again, Nicolas had heard on the phone he was caught in an accident so many months ago. Perhaps that was the result, as he looked to Nicolas with a somewhat weary and inquisitive expression.
The girl was albino much like Nicolas. Wearing a white dress that was almost completely covered by a black poncho, much too big for her to use alongside a  thick white wool scarf. Her hair was somewhat braided and looked at Nicolas with energetic and red eyes as she kicked her legs at the edge of the seat with black boots.
“Oh, hey Edwin, hey Delilah” He greeted his cousins sluggishly, almost forgetting how strained his voice was despite the fruit Elissa had given him. Almost, as if hearing it again combined with the suddenly concerned looks of his cousins made him cringe in embarrassment.
 “Are you okay Nic?” Edwin asked. He looked about as worried when he saw Nicolas and Willa enter the bus fully exhausted from who knows what. 
Nicolas for a moment released a tired sigh. He did not want to talk about what happened last night and simply responded with “It’s a very long story, but just know my friend and I waited for you guys to come here” which wasn’t a full lie, his parents did inform him of their arrival so that could work for now whilst Willa was lulled to sleep. The adrenaline and danger have long gone, in order to rest peacefully.
The twins gave a nod, perhaps this was for another time, and letting their cousin rest was acceptable. For now. “Hey, Del?”  Edwin asked his twin who looked at him with an intrigued hum “do you think there’s something going on with cousin Nic?” 
“Hmmm…” Delilah let out a slow and contemplative hum before dismissively shrugging “I’m sure he’s fine” She answered with a bit of a cheeky grin. Bringing some relief to her twin and yet, still found more suspicions as they waited for their stop.
… "So, guess I'll seya with Daniel and Selene later today?" Willa asked Nicolas, the two now at a stop near her own home, a small stroll away from familiar sight.
"Willa...you do realize we both need some sleep right?" he deadpanned whilst pinching the bridge of his nose. As much as he wanted to retort any further, his mind had long been fatigued. Willa let out a quiet chuckle at his response "I know, just wanted to mess with ya, you grouch" A large grin grew on her face as she spoke, before playfully punching the side of his shoulder she waved Nicolas goodbye before walking the rest of the way home.
Despite the events that happened, Willa found herself at ease, looking at the stone in her hand, she felt a strange sort of comfort while she passed by the trees.
at least until she made a reasonable excuse for her sudden disappearance in bed to her mothers. ...
Nicolas entered his room more fatigued than when he first left and found annoyance by how messy his room was prior to his departure. It even had a cobweb alongside a spider in the corner of the ceiling.
Haphazardly dropping Visera, he plopped himself onto his bed, now safe from whatever dangers laid before him and yet dreading for the day he would be called again whilst the small abomination slithered away from view.
Briefly looking at his bedstand, he noticed a large dusty but familiar tome on it, its cover metaphorically taunted him to open it.
Nicolas took a moment to breathe a sigh of disappointment before grabbing the tome, he had to guess Fennec had transported it to his room, post-incident. Much to his chagrin, but then again the contents tempted him, and now safe from whatever horrors lying beyond the town he let his scowl slowly turn to a soft smile.
“Maybe one read couldn't hurt…”
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aysrin · 4 years ago
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just jett things
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thatoneoverlyhornybitch · 2 years ago
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Sheet music | part 2
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Regulus Black x Pianist! Reader
Warnings: just an angstyish ending i guess
It had been three months since I met Regulus, and we’d meet up once a week so I could teach him. Once or twice, he hadn’t shown up however, afterwards claiming his family want him to stay home. It was fine, but I could tell something was off about his home life based on how he’d talk about them in-between practice sessions. Today was the first he’d actually come to my house to play from my piano, I would have done it sooner, but he was technically a stranger and I’m not dumb. Not that dumb. 
“Hey you’re uh, here early.” I muttered as I opened the door to his darkly clothed figure, which was pretty normal. Only new thing is that he had earrings in today, pretty. 
“Yeah, just figured its better than being late you know? I hope you don’t mind.” He replied, stepping in slowly, seeming to be nervous about coming in. I only smiled at him and playfully poked his shoulder.
“Hey of course it’s fine, you’re my friend now dumby, you’re welcome anytime.” He relaxed, a soft smile tugging the corners of his pretty pink lips. I led him to my music, room, which contained a grand piano and two tables covered in various sheet music. “I just need to clean up, my uh sheet music.” He laughed at the mess, making a bit of heat creep up my neck.
“You aren’t supposed to laugh,” I groaned picking up the sheet music, which seemed to only encourage him to laugh more. I huffed and puffed, but he and I both knew I was happy that he was happy. He’d always been really quiet, it took alot to get smiles and laughter from him, but it was worth it once he did. Fully worth it. He sat at the piano, his fingers drifting over the keys with a seemingly feather light touch. 
“You can go ahead and start practicing a bit, I’ve got to organize all of these.” He nodded, beginning to move his fingers into an oh so familiar tune. Sleeping like the birchwood, he seemed to really love this song ever since I’d shown it to him. I’d thought his favorite would be something I don’t know, darker maybe? But he loved it, and that made me kind of happy. Of course, he’d mess up every few notes, but he still had gotten really good really fast. Quick learner.
I was still sorting through the sheet music when he suddenly went a completely different direction with the notes and began playing a song I’d never heard before. It was lovely, but a painful kind of lovely, it truly reminded me of him the more he played. I dared to peek at him over my shoulder, only to see his face morphed into that of someone in anguish. What happened to him in his life that made him have that expression? What made him play such a song? He stopped quickly, feeling my eyes on him and looked to me, a shy smile replacing his previous expression.
I took that prompt changed as him not wanting to talk about it, so I smiled back. “Would you like anything to eat? Or some tea?” I asked, as I finally sorted the last of the sheet music. He made a hmmm noise before nodding softly, a little smile still on his lips. 
“I am a bit hungry, and tea sounds nice.”
“Great, I’ll put my kettle on, and do you eat blueberry muffins? Because I have alot of those. He nodded again, getting up to follow me to my kitchen where I practically shoved a muffin into his mouth. He had a look of shock but laughed loudly before beginning to scarf it down. He sat at the counter, watching as I made some tea while he ate the muffins, occasionally giving cute giggles at who knows what. It was rare to see him this happy, it was adorable, and it made me even happier.
I’d be lying if I said he hadn’t begun to make his own space in my heart, it felt wrong seeing as I was his piano teacher in a sense, but he was just so cute. And sweet. And talented. Okay, I may or may not be a little in love with the guy, but it’s just how his eyes light up when he smiles, how he crinkles his nose in an adorable way, you know what I mean? Shit who am I kidding.
“What's your family like?” He suddenly asked, a smile no longer on his face. I bit the inside of my mouth a bit as I avoided his eyes. 
“We, well we don’t speak to each other. They didn’t approve of some of my decisions, and I cute them from my life.” 
He furrowed his brows in confusion. “What didn’t they agree with?”
“They said pianists are only recognized once they’re dead, they told me to get over silly fantasies and get a real job.” I explained, handing him his cup of tea, feeling a bit warm when his fingers brushed mine. 
“They sound idiotic. Let your child do what they enjoy, what makes them happy. Although, my parents aren’t... Much better.” He trailed off as he sipped his tea, eyeing the intricate pattern painted onto it. “We’re a noble house, is a way to put it, and they value one’s blood above all else. If they knew I were here with you, a lovely pianist of ‘low status’... They’d kill me, maybe literally.” I widened my eyes at the last bit, but he had no humor etched into his features, rather a faraway look was on his face.
“Well, they sound snobby beyond belief.” He laughed at that, another smile stretching his lips.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“You deserve better than assholes like that, you’re such an amazing person Regulus.” He went red, squeaking out a shy thank you.
We were quiet for a while. He soon sat up, walking towards me, making a gesture to the door.
“Well, this was really nice, thank you. So much.” He said hands on my shoulder looking me in my eyes, his eyes then dropped a bit. Seemingly at my lips. 
“Of course, reg, you’re welcome anytime. Drop by whenever. I really enjoyed today.” He continued to stare at my lips, and slowly but surely edged a bit closer until our lips were nearly touching. I closed the gap, giving a soft peck. He pulled away immediately a soft pink color flooding his cheeks, but he also had a freaked-out sort of look to his face. 
“See you.”
He didn’t show up the next week.
Or the one after that.
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zorua-adorable · 3 years ago
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Hisui Does Not Have Enough Money to Deal with This Child's Impatience
Barry Arrives in Hisui
Okay, I wrote this in about two hours instead of sleeping, because I just had to after getting the thought in my head. Someone on a discord server mentioned Barry, and I brought up my AU, and we were coming up with ideas, and it all went from there.
This series will be a collection of connected one-shots, so don't be surprised if we jump around in the plot.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was unbeta'd, so let me know if you spot any grammatical errors.)
Word Count: 1081
When Barry opened his eyes, he very quickly noticed that he was not in the Pokémon Center bed he went to bed in last night. Instead, he was in some sort of… void.
“Where am I? How did I get here?” Barry asked, as he went to adjust his bag strap, only to find it wasn’t there.
“Hey, where’s my bag? Where are my Pokémon? WHERE’S MY SCARF?!”
It was at this moment that Barry noticed the large glowing light also there in the void. He was honestly surprised he didn’t notice it sooner.
‘Young Barry.’ It… spoke? At the very least, the words reverberated through his mind.
“Hey! Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?”
‘I am the one humans refer to as Arceus. We are in a realm beyond the flow of time and the expanse of space. I brought you here as I have a task for thou to complete.’
“Uuuh… could it wait? I was actually planning to challenge the Battle Tower tomorrow.” Barry responded to Arceus. ‘Why does that name sound familiar? I think Dawn or Lucas mentioned that name once? Man, I should’ve focused more during their ramblings; they always focus on mine.’
‘It will still be there once you complete thine mission.’ Arceus’ glowiness got even glowier, and somehow pulled Barry’s Pokétch (‘Huh, didn’t notice I had that on me.’) off his wrist and toward itself. Despite floating, Barry felt like he was falling. As he reached out to grab his Pokétch (‘It looks kinda different now?’) so he didn’t lose it, the last thing Barry heard was:
‘Seek out all Pokémon, and thou shalt find me once more.’
~~~~~
Professor Laventon tried to catch his breath as he ran after the three Pokémon he brought to Hisui from other regions, wondering what had them in such a rush. As he approached Prelude Beach, he noticed something – or rather, SOMEONE – falling from the sky. They miraculously landed upon the shores, without being injured to boot! When he got closer, he noticed the rift-fallen was a young male with blond hair (‘What even is that hairstyle? Extreme bedhead?’) and clad in strange looking clothes: gray pants and a long-sleeved shirt with orange and white stripes. He started to awaken as the professor got closer, and then stood up.
“You gave me quite the shock, falling from the sky like that… But thank goodness, you seem unharmed!”
“Yeah, but who are you? And where am I?” he asked. ‘My dear, he seems to be naturally quite loud.’
“Well, my name is Laventon. I am something of a Pokémon Professor. And this is Prelude Beach. May I ask who you are?”
“I’m Barry from Twinleaf Town.”
“Hmmm, I can’t say I’ve heard of that town before. What region is it in?”
“Oh, it’s in–! It’s, it’s in… where is it again?” Barry asked himself, not at the proper volume to be considered muttering.
“Oh dear. I’m presuming this means you do not have an acquaintance in these parts?”
“Yeah, I seriously doubt that–” Barry said, only for his attention to switch to my cumbersome little companions “–ooooh! And what kinds of Pokémon are those?” ‘Ah, at least he knows what Pokémon are.’
“These three are known as Rowlet, Cyndaquil, and Oshawott. They had run off and I only caught up when you tumbled out of the sky… It’s almost as if they knew you’d appear here! However, I’ve had some difficulty controlling them.  You see, they have a tendency to–” proving the point he was about to make, the three took off back toward the practice field “–run off. I’d catch them if I were more skilled…”
“Don’t worry, Professor! I’ll catch them for y– oooh, shiny!” The boy began to offer, before noticing something on the ground, picking it up, and securing it around his wrist?
“What was I saying? Oh yeah, I’ll catch ‘em for ya!” Before Professor Laventon could even give him any Poké Balls, he took off after the three. The professor followed to find young Barry chasing the three around the practice field, with his arms outstretched. Eventually, he managed to get hold of Rowlet.
“Here ya go, Professor! I caught one of them!” He looked so excited presenting the little owl. ‘I’m gonna have to be gentle with this.’
“Ah, excellent job! But by catching them, I meant with Poké Balls.” Barry stared at him for a moment, blinking a couple times.
“Oh~ yeah, I should’ve realized.” He then proceeded to release his hold on Rowlet.
“Why are you letting Rowlet go? It would be very simple to just tap it with a Poké Ball.”
“Because that wouldn’t be fair! At least, I don’t think it would.” As Professor Laventon handed the young lad fifty Poké Balls, he gave a strange look, but said nothing. He then proceeded to make quick work of catching the three. Rowlet and Oshawott were caught with the first ball, while Cyndaquil was caught on the second. Interestingly enough, he made a sound each time he threw a ball; it was something like “ngyeh!” Additionally, after Cyndaquil broke out of the first ball, Barry stomped in place while waving his arms up and down for a moment.
“My, you are quite skilled with Poké Balls!” Professor Laventon praised.
“Eh, wasn’t that big a deal.” Barry responded with nonchalance, only for a sonar ping to ring out. He then proceeded to look at what he strapped to wrist earlier.
“Huh, that’s weird;  I don’t think I set any alarms on this… Seek out all Pokémon, huh?” “What’s that about seeking out all Pokémon?” the professor asked, curiosity rising.
“Well, this thing – it called itself an Arc Pokétch, but I think I’m just gonna call it an Arc-etch – is telling me to seek out all Pokémon. I dunno why, though…”
“Why, this works out perfectly for us! You see, my dream is to compile this region’s first complete record of its Pokémon! We in the field call such a catalog a Pokédex. But to document them, they must be caught. Thus, I propose we assist one another, as our goals are entwined. You possess such skill when it comes to catching Pokémon, that we could knock out two Starly with one stone! What do you say?”
“Uh, sure! It’s not like I’ve got any other plans.” Barry agreed.
“Splendid! Then let us be off to Jubilife Village! It’s not too far a walk from here.”
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the-iron-orchid · 2 years ago
Note
🎁 Ell arrives looking marginally less uncertain of the crowd than they did last year- some of these are familiar faces now. They find Jinana and offer over the silk- wrapped parcel with a little smile. "I was going to get you another journal, but then I found these..." The silk scarf conceals a small box containing a set of three artistically blown-glass bottles. It's difficult to tell if the shifting colors are an effect of the glass or their contents. "I've been assured of their... efficacy."
Jinana lifts a brow, peering at the bottles with hir magical sight. "My goodness," s/he says, chuckling. "These are bound to add a certain something to those special moments, hmmm?"
"What's this, darling?" Julian folds his long self into a seated position at the low table, doling out three mugs that (thankfully) contain a pear cider, rather than the cocktail of the moment.
Jinana gives him a sidelong look. "Oh, just a few bedroom dreams come true, through the wonders of magic." S/he laughs as the tips of his ears steadily begin to burn red. "Now thank Ell'iandyr for the thoughtful gift."
He coughs, the redness spreading to his cheeks. "Ahem. Er, yes, thank you, we'll be sure to, uhm... ohgodIcan'tdoit" He sinks to the surface of the table in a pile of blushes and defeat, while Jinana laughs, patting his back.
"He tried."
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daydreaming-away-reality · 4 years ago
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Winter Artwork
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Jack Frost x Reader | ☁️ | 1.4k | Teacher!Reader
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Grabbing the big bin of art supplies, you carefully navigated your way around the classroom to the desk at the front of the room. Setting it down on the ground, you started pulling out the different supplies. 
Pencil crayons, crayons, paints, brushes, glitter - nope. You put the glitter back into the bin. Not today - you were giving them enough free reign in art as is, glitter was not going to be a problem today. Paint would be easier to deal with.
Straightening up the piles of blank papers and cardstock ready to become canvas for your students, you tried to remember what you were missing.
“Ah, the extra art instructions and colouring sheets,” you recalled. Heading over to the printer in the resource room, you paused to peek out the window. 
Your students, among all the other students at the school, were happily screaming and playing outside in the snow. There was probably about ten minutes left for their outdoor break and they were definitely making the most of it.
(E/C) eyes scanning the playground, you noticed a certain figure that didn’t quite belong. While he could have been another staff member out on supervision, you knew that they were one of your co-workers. Taller than students and not dressed properly for the weather, the white haired male was excitedly engaged with playing with the kids. 
As if he could tell you were watching him, his blue eyes made contact with yours briefly. His charming crooked smile was flashed your way and had you blushing as you quickly turned away. 
Hopefully none of the students had seen that little interaction.
Returning to your trip to the resource room, you grabbed your pile of printing. You quickly checked your printing, making sure you had all the instructions, colouring sheets and, oh, looks like you printed the word searches too. Less work for next time.
The bell rang just as you were heading back into your classroom, the sound of feet pattering back into the school. 
“Alright, looks like I got everything,” you declared. 
The familiar sounding voices began to float into your classroom as your students started trickling back in.
“Ms. (Y/N)!” a voice chirped. 
You turned around with a smile. “Hi Camila!”
“Did you see the snow castle that me and Sonya built outside? We tried to make it super big!” 
“I haven’t! You’ll have to show you tomorrow when I’m outside with you!” you replied. “Is there space in your castle for me too?”
“Hmmm.” Camila paused to think. She turned to Sonya. “We need to make space for Ms. (Y/N) in our castle!”
Sonya gasped. “We completely forgot!”
You laughed at how cute they were. Greeting some of the others as they came back inside, you made sure everyone was accounted for before getting their attention.
“Alright, my friends!” you called out. “Remember what I told you we’d be doing for the afternoon?”
“Art!”
“Art,” you repeated happily. “So, today we’ll be making so wintery art to decorate the classroom. Since the winter holidays are coming up, I want you to draw or paint or colour anything you like related to winter. I have all the supplies up here and if you’re not sure where to start -” You picked up your print outs. “-I have ideas we can start with. Any questions?”
Your (E/C) eyes scanned the room.
“Sam?”
“Can I make a snowflake?” 
“Absolutely!” you agreed. “I loved to see your snowflake.”
“Henry?” 
“Are we allowed to draw what we did outside today?”
“Of course you can!”
You paused, waiting to see if there were any more questions. The excitement to do art seemed to sparkle in their little eyes as they all looked up at you.
“All right, supplies is up here on the table if you need it. Let’s get started!” 
Your students started moving around, getting the supplies they needed, chatting with their friends about what they wanted to do. Floating around the room to check up on everyone and help when you were needed, you soon found the classroom to be serene and on task. 
A rare treat from your energetic bunch.
Moving to the windows on the side of the room, you peered out to look at the snowy landscape outside. It was lovely to see the frost forming patterns on the glass. It was definitely chilly out though - you were glad you brought your scarf today.
“Ms. (Y/N)?”
“Yes,” you responded, turning around.
A teacher’s work is never done after all.
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“Bye Ms. (Y/N)!” 
“Bye!!”
“Have a good weekend!”
You waved to your class as they all headed out for the day. Offering some of them hugs, you made sure everyone left the classroom before letting out your breath.
Another day done. 
Gathering the artwork piled on your desk, you flipped through what your students handed in. From pictures of snow people to playing in the snow to winter holiday traditions, your students had created lots of wonderful work. 
Seeing it all brought a smile to your face.
A certain drawing caught your eye - a picture of a boy with white hair, a blue hoodie and a wooden looking staff. 
You chuckled at the sight. How cute.
Armed with your stapler, some tape and the lovely winter art work from your students, you moved to the empty wall space to decorate the classroom. 
“Not heading home yet, (Y/N)?” 
You added a staple before turning to see the teacher next door. 
“Not yet, I still have some work to finish up in the classroom,” you replied.
“Thanks again for the coffee this morning,” they said. “It definitely helped me get through the morning.”
You smiled. “Anytime. Have a good evening!”
“You too!” they chimed before waving and leaving.
After working on putting up the art up for another fifteen minutes, you paused to look around the classroom. The place finally had some more cheer to it again - especially since you had taken down their last art pieces.
“Someone has been working hard.” 
The playful sounding observation was followed by arms wrapped your face and a cool breath tickling your neck. Leaning back into their embrace, you turned your head to meet the bright blue eyes that were watching you lovingly. 
“I always work hard,” you replied. “It was nice to see you playing with the kids.”
“They’re a great bunch,” he commented. His eyes shifted over to look at the art. “Oh, cool! Did you have them draw winter?”
You nodded, watching the boy excitedly move around your classroom to look at the student’s work. 
Jack laughed at the sight of one of the drawings. You moved over and laughed as well. 
Terry had drew and labelled his drawing - him and his friends having a snowball fight with the caption under one person who was being hit with the a snow as ‘Tony got hit in the face - we made sure he was okay after though!!’
“He’s a funny one,” you said with a chuckle, admiring the details.
“That might have been my snowball...” Jack confessed. 
You gasped and smacked his arm. “I better not need to fill out any incident reports because of you!”
“I’m careful! I swear!” The Guardian of Fun defended. 
You shook your head in amusement as you moved around the room, pushing in some chairs as you went. The last picture you put up before Jack came in made you pause.
“Sophie drew a picture of you,” you pointed out. “It looks exactly like you, Jack.”
Jack moved back to your side, his eyes taking in the details of the art. 
“Is this how I look in your eyes too?” 
You laughed. “I mean... It looks pretty accurate, but, I think she missed some of your charming details.”
Jack pulled you into a hug. “I love you, you know that right?”
“I love you too,” you murmured, returning his embrace. 
“When do I get to see some of your art?” Jack asked.
"Am I not a work of art?” you responded, kissing his cheek. Squirming out of his embrace, you grabbed your stuff and packed it into your bag. “Let’s go, I want to spend some quality time with you outside the classroom.”
Jack grinned. “Right behind you, love.”
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exploradora-writes · 3 years ago
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Fireside Love: An Arthur x Charlotte Fic (18+ Only)
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Warnings: NSFW, wholesome smut 
Summary:  During a snowstorm, Arthur and Charlotte decide to use their time cooped up in their cabin wisely.
Word Count: 3,455
Notes: Thank you @the-halo-of-my-memory​  and @unpocowboys​ for helping me out with this fic. The both of you are very talented writers! I plan on writing more Charlotte and Arthur fics in the future. These two are one of my favorite comfort couples, so I wanted to make a spicy yet cozy fic about them. Warning: Tons of wholesome smut ahead...
This fic can also be found on my AO3 under exploradora_writes
The first frost flakes began to stick to the window, the kitchen gradually becoming colder as snowflakes began to fall from the pitch black sky outside. 
Charlotte sighed, tossing another log into the stove, her stew stubbornly refusing to boil. She glanced at the woodpile, the three tiny logs lying there in an almost mocking sort of way. 
The clouds blocked out much of the sunlight, but she knew it would be dark soon. She held onto the counter, trying her hardest not to think of the worst, but she couldn’t help it.
He could be lost, stranded with no direction, no food, no warmth.
She shook her head, coming to her senses. Arthur may view himself as nothing but muscle and absolutely no brain, but as his wife, she knew better. He had an excellent sense of direction and survival skills. Any minute he’d be through that door with a load of firewood, and maybe even an animal or two.
She asked if she could come. Two heads were better than one, she tried to reason.
“No, darlin’, as much as I’d love to go with you, I need you stayin’ home and watchin’ over the house, keepin’ it warm. Wouldn’t want any strangers takin’ residence while we’re gone, would we?”
More than one weary traveller, some more hostile than others, had taken up residence in their home on more than one occasion while the two of them were off on hunting trips. While she understood where Arthur was coming from, she couldn’t escape her fear of the worst. She’d already lost one of the men she loved dearly to the harsh conditions of nature, she couldn’t bear to lose another one.
Her motionless broth seemed to stare back up at her as it refused to boil. “You ain’t making this easy for me, broth.”
Talking to an inanimate substance? The snow really was making her stir crazy. Arthur had better hurry up before I start talking to the logs, she thought. 
Figuring the broth was nowhere near boiling over, she took those three pathetic logs sitting on the woodpile and tossed them in the fireplace. She looked around for a match, lit it with a satisfying strike, and tossed it on the pile. The flames licked up the logs, but Charlotte knew it couldn’t last long. She lay back on a chair in the kitchen, staring into the flames of the fire. She smiled, her eyes following the flames as they danced along the logs, remembering all those years ago when her and Arthur danced around the campfire on their little outdoor honeymoon getaway. They drank and sang and made love their fair share of times by the roaring flames of the fire. Sure, it was no fancy trip in the big city, but it was simple and memorable. 
Unfortunately, the fire before her sounded more of a purr as opposed to a roar. She let out another sigh, looking back at the empty woodpile, longing for her strong handsome woodsman to return.  
As if on cue, she heard the door handle jiggle, as the man she had been longing to see emerged from the snowy darkness outside. 
“Arthur!” She arose, practically pouncing on him. He moved his scarf away from his cherry red face, panting from the effort of carrying.. firewood. Loads of it. Charlotte sighed with relief at the sight, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t care that he was like an icicle, nor that she would get wet from the snow that dusted his wooly blue coat. Her hands met his face, cold despite the large beard he sported. Her lips met his, her warm pink lips melting his icy blue ones. 
“Charlotte,” he breathed. “Glad I made it in time. Bundle up and help me haul in some of this wood. I have a feelin’ this is only the beginin’ of this snow storm.” 
She threw on a sweater, a coat, and a pair of boots. She opened the door to the dark depths of the winter night. The bitter cold nipped at her entire body despite being bundled up head to toe. She tried to imagine how good the fire would feel against her and her lover’s bodies once they were in the warmth of their little home. 
Arthur had made quite the haul. Firewood, some supplies from the general store, and even a deer. She smiled, feeling her body warm up as she thought of how wonderful and lucky she was to have a man like him. 
They fought against the wind back into the house. It took the strength of the two of them to even get the door closed. They both panted and fell against each other. 
“Well, we best get cozy, darlin.’ We’re gonna be here awhile.” Arthur said, removing his snow covered clothes. 
Charlotte returned to the kitchen, the pot of broth finally showing signs that it was preparing to boil. She threw another log on the stove for good measure. 
Arthur came up behind her and kissed her cheek, his cold lips sending a shiver down her spine. “How’s everything comin’ along?”
She smiled as the both began to boil. “Rather nicely now that you’ve returned, cowboy.”
“Hmmm I figured I’d have the opposite effect. My coldness would ruin any hopes of ever makin’ a good meal.”
“Quite the contrary, Mr. Morgan.” She stirred in the ingredients: savory chicken, carrots, onions, and peas. “Because I think you’re so hot, you make pots boil. You made mine boil when you walked through that door.” She looked back at him, stirring the pot in lazy circles. “Cheeks still rosy from the cold?”
“Er, yeah,” he fumbled, “you could say that.” 
She rubbed his face, running her fingers through his beard. “You hungry?”
His hands ran along her hips. “Starvin’..” 
“We could eat in front of the fire if you’d like. It’d be a nice change, don’t you think?” 
“Sure, sounds cozy.” He gave her hips one last squeeze before getting two bowls from the above cabinets. “Smells delicious.’”
“You talking about the soup or are you talking about me, dear?” She gave him a small smile. 
“Can’t I be talking about both?” Like a magnetic attraction, his hands were back on her hips.
“Goodness you’re handsy tonight!” She giggled. “Alright, soup’s on.”
He gave her cheek a quick peck before serving himself a large bowl of soup. She unwrapped some bread she had been saving for tonight and placed it in each of their bowls. They brought their meals over to the fireplace, sitting in front of it. 
Arthur took a sip, his body quickly warming up from the combination of the fire and the broth. He let out a satisfied groan. “This soup’s real good, sweetheart.”
“Well I’m glad you think so,” she beamed. “I always worry I’ll muck something up.”
“That’d be pretty hard for you to do, Char.” He smiled at her, motioning for her to sit closer to him. She obliged, cosying up to him and resting her head on his shoulder.
The sounds of the crackling fire and the slurping of soup filled the room. Arthur tipped his bowl back, finishing the rest of the broth. He let out a satisfied sigh and took Charlotte’s bowl as well, putting them next to the sink to be washed. He’ll clean up eventually, he thought. Right now all he wanted to do was warm up his wonderful wife.
  He changed into his union suit, catching a glimpse outside the window. The snow came down with a vengeance. He grabbed a log from the pile and tossed it into the dying flames. The fire continued to dwindle. 
“Goddamm it,” he muttered, bending over to grab the poker and stir the ashes around. He felt the familiar sensation of a hand giving his behind a light smack. He turned around, his wife looking around, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. 
He arched an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary, darlin’?”
“Was what necessary?” She tried looking away, but try as she might, her lips continued to curl into a smile.
“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, missy. Your hand just loves smackin’ my ass, don’t it?” 
“That is quite the accusation, Mr. Morgan!”
“I oughtta smack YOU on the ass.”
She smirked, tilting her head. “Well? What’s stopping you?”
He studied her for a second, then knelt down next to her. “Goddamn, have you always been this naughty?”
“Always have, always will be. It’s one of the reasons you married me, remember?” She lay back on the carpet. “Now get me a blanket, would you, darling? It’s freezing in here.”
He sighed, tossing her a few blankets. He tossed another log on the fire, then lay next to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she shivered against him. He scooted the two of them closer to the fire. “There, now that’s better.”
She nuzzled against his chest and yawned. “Arthur?”
“Hmm?” He looked down at her.
“How long do you think we’ll be in here? Waiting out this storm?”
He looked outside again, the snow showing no signs of stopping. “Awhile. Don’t know how long exactly, but we’ve survived much worse. ‘Sides, I stocked up on food and supplies, we’ll be fine.
She sighed, looking up at him and kissing his cheek. “Well, we’ve got plenty of time, what should we do to pass it?”
He chuckled. “Well, there’s always dominoes, and redecoratin’, and we can always be workin’ on our marriage.”
“Oh? And how exactly do you want to work on that?” She held his hand, circling his palm with her thumb.
“Well, when’s the last time we’ve had to ourselves like this? Seems like we’re always busy with housework, farmwork, all kinds of work. This is a good opportunity for us to just… be in each other’s presence.”
She hummed against his chest. “Sounds wonderful.”
The flames of the fire crackled, and Charlotte let out a small, breathy laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.
“Oh just remembering our little honeymoon.”
Arthur smiled as the memories came flooding back. “That little camping trip.”
“Yes! Remember, out on the lake?”
“How could I forget? We tipped the whole damn canoe over!” He laughed, rocking back and forth and waving his arms around dramatically, reenacting the fateful moment. 
The two of them collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles, cuddling up to each other to trap the warmth again as their laughter died down. Charlotte looked into the flames of the fire, a small smile on her face. “And the campfire,” she mused. “Illuminated the entire night sky. Millions of tiny stars, looking down at us.”
Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, I remember.Them crickets were noisy sons of bitches, weren’t they?”
“I think they thought the same thing about us, dear.” She ran her hands along his chest, gazing into his blue eyes that perfectly complimented his rosy cheeks. 
“Darlin’, you were the one makin’ all the noise,” he said in a low tone.
She sighed, resting her head against his chest. “You’re right, you always were a good lover.”
He rubbed her back, gazing into the flames as well. “You know, we could alway reenact that night. If you’re up to it that is.”
She smirked, smooching his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered in his ear, giving it a small nip. He let a gasp escape his lips.
“Jesus, darlin’.” His lips met hers as he gracefully flipped her onto her back. “I was on top, remember?” He pinned her wrists to the soft, welcoming rug beneath them. It was her turn to let out a gasp. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow, the weight of her husband’s warm body causing blood to rush throughout her entire being. 
She kissed his neck and moaned. “Are you sure I wasn’t the one on top?” She wrapped her legs around his torso and twisted her body around and caught him off guard. Arthur grunted, his wife now the one staring down at him. 
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Who knew such a typically mild mannered woman could have the drive and spunk of a working girl? He felt himself growing stiff beneath her. 
“No, darlin’, you’ve got it all wrong, remember? You were on top when we was by the lake, after we went skinny dippin’. I remember ‘cause the rocks were diggin’ into my back, but hell, it was worth is just to watch myself disappear inside of you over and over again.”
Warmth flooded her core as she began to grind against his leg. “Well, which was it, Arthur? Make up your mind before...before I..” She buried her face in the crook of his neck and moaned.
“Look at you…” he chuckled. “You gonna cum before I’m even inside you?” 
She shook her head. 
“Thought not. Goddamn, you must be soaked.” He held her against him and kissed her lips. He lay her back down against the soft texture of the rug, his hands exploring her body, as they had on that fateful night. “Now it’s all comin’ back to me. You were lyin’ there, the light of the fire dancin’ across your nude body…” His hands played with the straps of her nightgown before sliding them off, revealing her bare bosom. “Your breasts, milky white…” He planted kisses on them, his calloused fingers running across her pink buds. 
She bit her lip to stifle a moan. “Yeah? Then what?”
He slid the nightgown further down her body. “Your stomach, soft and delicate” His voice had grown low and a bit hoarse. 
Charlotte rubbed her thighs together, her breath shallow as she anticipated his next move.
Finally, he slid the nightgown completely off of her body, the cold air hitting her skin. She shivered, not from the air, but from the sensation of Arthur’s bearded face rubbing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He kissed all the way up her thigh until he reached her core. He placed his fingers against it, and while a layer of cloth separated his touch from her body, she still left out a soft moan.
“Yes...yes…” he growled. “I’m rememberin’ now. How you tasted…” He looked up at her as he slid her panties down her legs. “Darlin’, it’s takin’ everythin’ in me not to devour you right now.”
“W-what’s stopping you?” 
That comment again. God, she was a relentless tease. 
He stared at her as he gave her pussy a long, teasingly slow lick. She let out a soft whimper at the sensation of his warm tongue against her intimacy. Her juices continued to flow, and he was right there to lap them up with his eager mouth.
Her taste was familiar to his tongue, sweet as summer honeysuckles. His beard rubbed the skin of her inner thighs, and she arched her back as his tongue continued to explore the familiar territory of her folds. His cock throbbed against the tight fabric of his union suit. He longed to be inside her, to hold her against him as their heartbeats began to sync. 
He growled, fumbling with the buttons of his suit and he moved his head back and forth. He ran his hand along his entire length, finally letting it free from its previous confines. 
His wife couldn’t help but glance down and moan at the sight of her husband pleasuring himself while he pleasured her. She bucked against his face, feeling herself reaching her peak.
His calloused thumb made lazy circles around her clit while his other thumb circled the head of his cock. 
Charlotte bit her lip and whimpered, squirming against her husband’s face. 
“That’s it, darlin’,” he growled, “cum for me. You can do it, I know you’re close. Fuck…” His cock leaked with precum. 
She arched her back and moaned out his name, and while no one could feasibly hear them in the middle of the woods, right at that moment it felt like the entire world knew that Arthur Morgan was filling her with ecstasy as she reached her climax. 
She panted, her body coated with a thin layer of sweat. “Oh...Oh, Arthur..”
He panted heavily as well, sliding beside her and kissing her, his face and beard still lingering with the taste and scent of her. 
“Mmm that’s a good girl…” he whispered in her ear. 
Her hands squeezed his glistening biceps, then trailed down to his chest and stomach. She played with his chest hair, a sly smirk on her face. “My big man loves to eat, hmm?” she teased, kissing his neck and nipping his earlobe. 
“You’re damn right I do.” He let out a grunt, his cock twitching. 
Charlotte kissed him and shimmied the rest of his suit down his body. 
“Now we’ve just gotta stay close together so we don’t freeze to death,” she said, her hand gripping his length and stroking it. She kissed his lips, muffling the groan that escaped his mouth. 
“Mmm I want us both facin’ the fire,” he whispered. “No more fightin’ to be on top.” 
“Yes sir.” She obeyed, laying on her side facing the fire. 
He slid her body against his, turning her face so he could kiss her. He lifted her leg, reaching a hand around to rub her pussy, still soaked from their previous interaction. 
He slid inside of her with ease, both of them gasping practically the same breath. His cock inside of her was a familiar feeling that seemed to bring her more pleasure with each thrust. 
His large hand clasped her smaller one, the both of them unable to take their eyes off of the other one. The fire continued to roar, and while the outside raged with icy wrathfulness, the inside of their little cabin was a hearth of comfort and pleasure. 
“Darlin’, I…” he growled, twitching inside of her.
A familiar, floaty feeling began to rise in her stomach, and she let out a soft moan. 
He brought their clasped hands down to her sensitive bundle of nerves. With his hand over hers, he guided her and pleased her, as an artist guides his brush across a canvas, and as an artist creates a passion filled work of art, so too were they.
She squirmed against him, barely able to contain herself as she moaned out broken pieces of his name. 
“That’s it, goddamn that’s it…” he growled in her ear. “Cum with me, be a good girl and cum with me..” 
The fire crackled and sparked and so did she, moaning as she came undone once more. 
Arthur pulled out and groaned, spilling his seed on her stomach. 
The two of them collapsed in a heap of sweat, the both of them panting and staring up at the ceiling, holding hands. 
Finally, Arthur mustered up the strength to get up and retrieve a wet cloth to clean up his wife. He smirked as he cleaned her. “You were so good tonight.”
“So were you, dear.” She kissed him. “You always know exactly what I need.”
The fire began to fizzle out. Charlotte sighed and arose, retrieving a log from the pile and tossing it into the fireplace. The light of the flames illuminated every curve of her nude form. Arthur’s heart beat a bit faster at the sight.
He wished to God he could capture her in that same pose. He’d be sure to sketch a replica of it, hell, maybe have her model for him just so he had an excuse to see her naked again. Either way, the sight of her looking like a work of art made his heart soar. She definitely beat all the dirty cigarette cards he and the old gang members used to trade. 
“Something on your mind, Arthur?” 
He blinked a few times before chuckling. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about you and how lovely you look.”
She smiled and lay down beside him, kissing his forehead. “You’ve still got it, darling.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“I’m not kidding. You were wonderful tonight. It was almost identical to our honeymoon.”
He furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at her. “Almost?”
“Well, we weren’t under the stars!”
He looked out the window, the snow still coming down fast. “Darlin’, you’d better be thankin’ the lord we weren’t doin’ it outside. We’d be freezin’ our asses off in all that snow.”
She giggled, nuzzling against him and kissing his chest. “Well we may not have been making love under the stars, but you certainly made me see stars tonight, Mr. Morgan.”
He chuckled, pulling her against him and kissing her one more time before drifting off to sleep. 
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lover-of-sans · 4 years ago
Note
Hey, i saw the ask with the hoodies of the lazy skele boys and got an idea. Practically the same question, but with UT Papyrus, UF Papyrus, US Sans and instead of a hoodie, S/O is wearing their skeleton scarf, while making breakfast ^^
We still making breakfast over here!
UT Papyrus:
He borderline tears his room apart trying to find his scarf.
Eventually gives up because the need for breakfast is getting the best of him.
He can tell that you’re cooking before he can even get to the kitchen.
Your cooking always makes him feel better and maybe he can think better if he isn’t hungry.
When he turns the corner and sees you all wrapped up in his scarf he nearly loses it.
“Human! You found my scarf!” He comes up to you and nuzzles your cheek.
“Thank you! Though it does look good on you, maybe you can wear it sometimes!”
“No complaints from me Pappy” you laugh pecking his cheek.
He really can’t stand how cute you look right now.
Makes him wonder what else of his you would look cute in.
UF Papyrus:
He’s pissed, he never misplaces anything!
Maybe someone is messing with him? He heads down stairs to search the rest of the house.
He’s not even paying attention to you or what you’re doing, he’s far too busy looking around.
You notice his grumbling and call out to him, “Papyrus! Come have some breakfast!”
He turns to say something to you but he freezes, his scarf is lazily draped over your shoulders.
“HUMAN! Why did you seal my scarf!?” He uses fake anger to cover up a fluttery feeling in his chest.
You grab the edge of the fabric looking up at him cutely “It made me feel closer to you, Pap”
He can barely maintain his usual rough attitude, in this moment, he would never admit it but he thinks you’re so cute right now.
He storms off to cool off but you can’t help but notice that he leaves his clothes laying around where you would find them more often...
Hmmm... weird....
US Sans:
He’s bummed that he can’t find his scarf but he’s not gonna let it ruin his day.
It’s your turn to make breakfast and he can’t be sad when eating your waffles.
He heads to the kitchen and sees you setting the table with a familiar blue cloth around your neck.
He nearly gushes. You look so cute wearing his scarf!
He rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug.
“Human! Oh my gosh you look so cute!”
He will not hold back how he feels right now!
He skele-kisses your entire face.
Refuses to let you go for a solid fifteen minutes.
“Darling! I have a great idea! We’ll get you one too, we can match!”
After breakfast you both go shopping to get you a scarf as well.
He’s so excited you and him will have a thing!
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chocolatequeennk · 4 years ago
Text
Wired to Love You
In which the Doctor gets a caffeine high and gives away more than he intended.
Ten x Rose
For @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas. This is Day 2: Ginger.
AO3 | FF.NET
The Doctor didn’t spin around the console with his usual manic energy as he set the coordinates for their next trip. He wanted to be sure of the landing this time—Rose deserved a fun trip. They’d spent a week in London, letting the TARDIS recover from her side trip to the parallel universe, and Rose recover from losing Mickey.
Mickey Smith, defender of the Earth, he mused. Not such an idiot after all.
He’d been through this before—had one companion stay after losing a friend. It was never easy, and he wanted to give Rose something that would make her smile.
He twisted the last knob, then gave her a wide smile. “Are you ready for this, Rose Tyler?” he asked dramatically as he grabbed the dematerialisation lever.
Rose rolled her eyes, but he knew he saw a hint of a smile playing with the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, all right. Impress me, Time Lord.”
The Doctor threw the lever then put his hand on his chest in mock indignation. “Rose Tyler, it almost sounds as if you don’t think I’m impressive.”
She laughed, the musical sound echoing in the console room. “You are the same man, but so different. ‘I am impressive!’ he insisted. Three words. And here you are, spouting off a sonnet practically.”
The Doctor sniffed. “It’s not my fault this particular incarnation is a trifle more loquacious than I was in my last body.”
“Loquacious?” she asked, giggles rippling through her body.
The Doctor warmed to his subject. He was making Rose laugh, which was all he wanted out of the day. “I am a wordsmith, Rose Tyler. The wordiest of smithy wordsmiths.”
Rose mouthed the words, and he grinned at her. The TARDIS landed, and he spun around and offered her his hand. “Come on! I think we’re ready for a party.”
He tilted his head and studied her attire. “But I think you’ll need a warm coat or something,” he said, realising she was dressed for a much warmer climate.
The ship hummed around them, and the Doctor and Rose both looked at the coat rack by the door. To neither of their surprise, a Rose-sized coat was hanging there.
“The TARDIS is looking out for me,” Rose said as she jogged up the ramp.
The ship hummed again, the sensation feeling like a warm blanket. The Doctor patted a strut; he had no doubt the ship had taken him exactly where he had asked for once. They both knew Rose needed a smile.
Her giggles caught his attention. “What is this?” she asked, holding up a scarf.
A familiar scarf. A very familiar, very long, very colourful scarf.
The Doctor groaned. “That… That should have been buried in an archived version of the wardrobe room. Why’d you bring that out?”
The ship whistled, even though the question was rhetorical. It had made Rose laugh. That was exactly why she’d brought it out.
He shook his head and watched as Rose draped it around her neck three times. The purple stripes matched her coat almost perfectly.
Rose grinned at the Doctor. She hadn’t been quite sure she was ready to travel again, but the warm laughter had eliminated most of her lingering sorrow.
She held her hand out to him. “Come on,” she said. “I hear there’s something impressive outside these doors.”
The Doctor’s answering grin eased what was left of her lingering melancholy. He bounded up the ramp and pulled the door open, gesturing for her to go outside first.
Rose took a step towards the door, then tilted her head. She heard something familiar… She sniffed. And smelled something familiar.
Excitement beat in her heart and she darted past him, out onto the snow-covered street. “Oh, brilliant,” she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
They’d parked on one side of a wide square. A Christmas tree dominated the space, with garland spanning out from the tree to the buildings lining the square.
“Where are we?”
The Doctor took her hand and they started walking towards the centre of the square. “This is Parolin in the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
“You mean we finally made it?” Rose cast him a sideways grin. “Not to some satellite or something where we’ll have to figure out who’s trying to end humanity as we know it?”
The Doctor huffed, and she giggled in delight. He hip checked her, and she burst into full on laughter.
“If you’re finished,” he said after a moment, “I could tell you the rest. Or you could continue to tease me.”
Rose tapped her chin with her finger. “Hmmm… tough choice.”
The Doctor pouted, and before he could work himself up, Rose slid closer to him and hugged his hand to her. “Nah, you know I’m teasing. Tell me more. The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire…”
He nodded. “Human festivals have almost been forgotten.”
“Doesn’t sound very great to me,” Rose muttered.
“Except for once a century, when the nostalgists are able to have their day—or days.”
“You mean, they go 99 years without celebrating anything, and then once every one hundred years, the whole empire celebrates every human holiday… ever?”
“Yep!”
Rose shook her head. “Barmy,” she muttered.
Then she realised what he was saying. “So, this is literally the Christmas festival of a century.”
He made the little happy giggling sound in the back of his throat that she loved so much. “Exactly!”
Rose sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t stupid; she knew why the Doctor had brought her here. But the fact that he knew exactly what would put a smile on her face didn’t make it any less meaningful. In fact…
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He smiled down at her, all the giddiness gone, leaving only warmth in its place. “Anything for you, Rose Tyler.”
Then he tightened his hold on her hand and tugged her through the crowds. “Come on, Rose! The party awaits!”
Rose laughed helplessly and let him pull her along with him. They moved from table to table, enjoying the chocolates and biscuits and eggnog and hot buttered rum.
At one point, they joined an impromptu group of carollers and roamed the surrounding streets, singing at the top of their lungs.
When they were done, the song leader handed everyone a slice of gingerbread. “Brilliant work, everyone. I’d say we’ll do it again next year, but well…” The crowd all laughed at the joke that must be old now, at the end of the year of festivals.
The Doctor hesitated just a moment before he devoured the gingerbread. He was hungry, and as long as he didn’t have alcohol, he should be fine. Ginger on its own didn’t get a Time Lord drunk—it just lowered their ability to metabolise the alcohol, letting it actually reach their system and intoxicate them.
“Where to next?” he asked Rose, once they’d finished the dessert.
“Can we go into a shop?” Rose asked. “I’m getting cold.”
The Doctor nodded. “The main indoor shopping area is this way,” he said, leading her to the booths lining the streets.
A stand along the way caught his eye, and he slowed down and snagged two cups of coffee. “This should help you warm up, too,” he said, offering one to her.
She wrapped both her hands around the paper cup and held it up to her nose. “Mmm, perfect,” she murmured.
The Doctor sipped at his coffee, trying to ignore the way his hearts were racing. That was par for the course when he was with Rose Tyler. He needed to learn to just… get used to it. Somehow. Even though no one had ever made him feel like this and…
He shook his head quickly to stop that thought in its tracks.
Rose looked up at him oddly, and he just grinned and bounced on his toes. “Come on, Rose Tyler!” he said, sounding a little too… energetic even to his ears. “Shopping awaits.”
The longer they were inside, the more antsy the Doctor felt. He always felt a little… bouncy in this body. Like he had slightly too much energy for the amount of limbs he possessed. But right now he felt like he was literally vibrating out of his skin.
And Rose was starting to notice. After the third time he went on a ten minute ramble about the shopping centre, the town origins, and the exact placement of the planet in the galaxy, she stopped and looked at him, her hands planted on her hips.
“All right, what’s going on with you?” she said. The words were stern, but the voice was concerned and he just loved it when Rose cared about him. Rose cared about everyone but it mattered the most when she cared about him.
He blinked and held his breath, hoping he hadn’t actually said that out loud. He wouldn’t normally, but today wasn’t normal and why wasn’t it normal? Rose had asked and he was going to tell her but first he had to figure out why himself. He couldn’t really tell her something he didn’t know the answer to.
(Contrary to her opinions, he did not actually just make up stories about the planets and people they visited. If he told her something, it was because he knew it—or at least, he believed he did. Sometimes he was wrong, and he was Time Lord enough to admit that.)
The Doctor stopped and put his fingers to his temples. His normally rapid thought process was out of control. What was he supposed to be doing? Oh right, figuring out why he was like this.
He took a deep breath, holding it for ten seconds, then letting it out slowly. That centred him just enough to focus on his body. Clearly, something was affecting…
The Doctor groaned and buried his hands in his face.
Rose blinked in concern when the Doctor groaned and buried his hands in his face. “Doctor?” she asked, feeling more worried by the minute. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong?” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He sighed and straightened up. “No, nothing is wrong, unless by wrong you mean embarrassing and too revealing, in which case yes something is wrong and you are about to learn more about Time Lord physiology than I had intended for today.”
Rose sucked in a breath and hoped she wasn’t blushing. She was almost certain that wasn’t what he’d meant—if he meant that kind of physiology lesson, he surely wouldn’t be talking about it in public.
“I never should have eaten that gingerbread. But it smelled delicious and I was hungry and I knew I wasn’t going to drink any alcohol, so I thought, ‘What’s the harm?’ How was I supposed to know that ginger would make caffeine affect me, just like alcohol.”
Rose blinked, trying to keep up with that rapid-fire speech. “What’s ginger got to do with anything?”
“Oh, everything. Well, not everything, just everything that is related to this particular conversation, in which case I suppose I really could just say everything because we were talking about this conversation, weren’t we?”
Rose blinked at him, and the Doctor groaned again. “It’s getting worse.”
“What is?”
She watched him take another deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Ginger,” he said, enunciating the two syllables in a way she knew meant he was trying to control his rambling again. “Time Lords are able to metabolise substances faster. It’s why I don’t get drunk. But ginger impairs our ability to metabolise the alcohol.”
Rose frowned; what did that have to do with anything? Like he’d said, they hadn’t had any alcohol.
Then she remembered the coffee, and it clicked. “Caffeine,” she said. “You can’t metabolise the caffeine, and now you’re completely wired.”
He pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. Rose could see how hard it was for him to stay silent, and she could only imagine what their life would be like if the Doctor talked more than he already did.
“All right,” she said slowly. “Do you want to go back to the TARDIS?”
His shoulders slumped. “No, I don’t want to ruin this for you. This trip is supposed to be for you, to make you smile. You should always smile, Rose—your smile is so pretty.”
This time, Rose knew she was blushing. “Well, thanks,” she stammered. “But we can always come back to the party later, yeah? Like, we can go back to the TARDIS for a bit, or even overnight, without leaving the planet?”
The Doctor blinked so rapidly Rose swore she could feel a breeze from his eyelashes.
“I guess we don’t,” he said. “Do you know, I’ve never really though about that before. It’s always one day, one city. Unless we’re arrested or made guests of the king or something. Then we stay longer. But usually, I just do what I came to do and then leave. I never thought about just… staying.”
Rose took his hand and led him out of the shop, hoping he couldn’t see her rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you’re playing domestics,” she muttered. “I’m not saying we could set up house here. I’m just saying we could rest for a bit before coming back to the party.”
“Oh, I completely agree!” he said breezily. “I wasn’t arguing, I was just saying it wasn’t something I’d ever considered. Do you know, after over a thousand years in the TARDIS, I really thought I was done being surprised. Not by other planets, of course, because I’m always surprised. Day I know everything, that’s the day I quit travelling. But I’m not very often given just… a different way to live. It’s a paradigm shift! That’s you, Rose Tyler, a paradigm shifter.”
Rose breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw the TARDIS. She loved listening to the Doctor ramble, she really did, but his constant talking was hard to keep up with, especially as he jumped from topic to topic without warning or explanation.
“Here we are,” she said, pulling out her key. “Home again home again.”
She unlocked the door and turned around to look at the Doctor. To her surprise, he swept her up in a hug.
“What’s this for?” she asked, her words muffled by his coat.
“You called the TARDIS home,” he said. “I was worried… Well, it doesn’t matter. But you called the TARDIS home and now I know that I don’t need to worry.”
Rose was pretty sure she knew what he’d been worrying about, and he definitely did not need to worry.
“Yeah, she’s my home… as long as that’s okay?”
The Doctor pushed open the door and let Rose enter the ship first. “Of course it’s okay!” he replied, sounding almost indignant. “If it wasn’t okay, I’d say it wasn’t, would’t I? And I wouldn’t give you a key. Bit stupid of me to give someone a key if I didn’t want to them to feel at home.”
Rose shook her head. “Yeah, all right. Listen, Doctor. I’m going to go take a bath and go to bed. I’ll be up at eight for breakfast, and then we can explore the second half of the market.”
“Molto bene!” The Doctor bounced on his toes, then danced around the console. He just could not contain the excess energy that was building up in his body. Was this what humans felt like when they had caffeine? If it was, then why did they ever do it?
“Or maybe this is just special because of the ginger. Just like I’ll get totally sloshed on a single glass of wine if I’ve had ginger.”
The Doctor spun around to talk to Rose, and he blinked a few times when he realised she wasn’t there. But then he remembered that she’d told him she was leaving the room.
He pouted. Well, how was he going to stay busy if his busy partner had left him all on his own?
Without any real thought, he dug around under the console and started building with the pieces he found there. It was good to have something to do with his hands, but that project only took ten minutes.
Next, he walked a lap of the TARDIS. Or at least as much as could be ran in a lap. Several of the corridors weren’t really connected to the rest, unless either he or the TARDIS felt like they needed to be.
He blinked when he spotted a familiar door. It wasn’t really a surprise that he’d gotten himself to Rose’s room, he figured. After all, he would much rather be with her than alone, although he thought maybe she’d been getting a little tired of his rambling and he really didn’t want to annoy her.
He caught his lower lip between his teeth and thought for all of 30 seconds before he knocked at the door. “Rose? It’s me. Well, who else would it be? We are the only two people on the TARDIS after all.”
He snapped his mouth shut with a click. He wasn’t going to annoy Rose.
“Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m trying not to ramble. If I don’t ramble, can I come in?”
Rose bit her lip. She was really pretty comfy in her jim jams, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear all about the Mongol invasion or who Merlin really was or anything else the Doctor happened to latch onto.
But on the other hand, she didn’t want to turn him away, either. It was really so sweet that he wanted to be with her while he felt a little out of sorts.
“Yeah, gimme a mo,” she called back. The cami top was enough, but she grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms and pulled them on over her knickers. “Okay, come on in, Doctor.”
The door swung open, and the Doctor hesitated on the other side for a moment, his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I might talk your ear off.”
Rose tugged on her ears. “Nah, they’re attached.”
The Doctor giggled and bounded into the room. He flopped down on the big armchair Rose kept by her vanity. “Your room is nicer than mine,” he said, scanning the room quickly.
“Maybe because she knows I’ll actually use my room, unlike you.” Rose giggled when the ship whistled her agreement. “See? What’s the point in spending her energy giving you a nice room if you’re never in it?”
The Doctor hummed noncommittally. Rose had a suspicion that he’d just managed to hold something back just then, but she couldn’t fathom what it might have been. Still, if he wasn’t just blurting out every thought that came to mind, that was at least some improvement.
“I suppose,” the Doctor said, and it took Rose a moment to remember they were talking about their respective bedrooms.
He bit his lip again, and Rose turned to face him fully. “What is it?” she asked.
“Well… I don’t know how long this is going to last and I’m trying to not say every single thought in my head because despite what you might think, I do actually appreciate my privacy.
“But I’m just sitting here and I can’t stop thinking… did you always have that cute mole on your shoulder, Rose Tyler?”
Rose blinked several times and felt her face turn hot. There was something about the matter of fact way he said it made it feel like he’d made a far more intimate discovery than the small mole on her left shoulder.
“So tell me more about Parolin,” she requested. “You said Fourth Great and Bountiful, yeah?”
The Doctor nodded absently. “Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
He was still staring at her. “How did I not know you have a perfect little mole on your left shoulder?” he said, almost petulantly. “I have catalogued every aspect of your appearance and personality, and yet here is this mole that has taken me completely by surprise. What other surprises do you have for me? Do I want to know, or should I just be… I don’t know, surprised.”
Rose blinked at him. “What all do you know about me?” she asked, thinking to call him on his bluff.
The Doctor leaned forward, his eyes lit up. “Rose Tyler Facts,” he said dramatically. “Tea: hot with milk and a little sugar. Chocolate: the darker the better. Movies: eclectic tastes. Rom com, and historical fiction, and especially in places where they blend.”
Rose felt her face grow warm as he continued rattling off everything from her favourite colour to the classmate in primary school who had pissed her off by ratting the whole class out to the teacher.
“How do you know even know so much about me?” she asked, when there was finally a moment of silence.
The Doctor blinked at her owlishly. She knew what had happened; she’d interrupted his train of thought and he was going to have to find a new one, or a boat or a car or something.
“Well, I love you. Why wouldn’t I know all of those things?”
In the silence that settled in the room, some of the Doctor’s caffeine daze lifted. He reviewed the last five minutes, and felt his face turn hot.
Rose was staring at him, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. The Doctor’s hearts stopped. He hadn’t really ever planned to tell her that, but in the times he’d let himself imagine it, he’d always thought she would… well, feel the same way.
Wasn’t that what she’d been trying to say outside the cafe? That she thought their relationship was something more than just friendship?
Apparently not, he thought glumly.
“And I think I’ve outstayed my welcome,” he mumbled. He got up and walked to the door, anxious to be alone with his embarrassment.
To his surprise, Rose reached the door before he did, sliding in just before he could grab the door knob.
“Rose?”
She poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare leave this room,” she ordered. “You can’t say something like that, and then just… just… walk away!”
The Doctor looked down at her, trying to understand what she was saying. “Well… I hadn’t really meant to say that,” he said hesitantly.
Rose’s face fell. “Oh. You didn’t mean it, then?”
The Doctor paused, trying to think through the lingering caffeine fog. Something important was happening here, and if he could just focus instead of letting his brain go in forty-five directions at once, he might be able to figure out what it was.
“Doctor.” Rose’s voice gave him a point of focus. “Did you mean it?”
And finally, the important thing clicked. The only reason she would be so set on knowing if he meant it was if she wanted him to mean it.
The hearts that had stopped only a few moments ago were racing now. “Yes.”
He held his breath, watching her intently. When a smile spread across her face, the breath whooshed out of him.
Rose rolled her eyes as she stepped closer to him. “Were you really that nervous?” she asked.
“Wellllll…” The Doctor cautiously rested his hands on her waist, waiting for her to tell him that wasn’t what she wanted. “You haven’t really said much, except to demand an answer from me.”
She blinked up at him, and he had to hold back his delight that she’d gotten that wrapped up in the conversation.
“I mean… I might ask you how you feel,” he said casually.
“Oh! Oh my god, I can’t believe…”
Rose closed her eyes and shook her head, and when she opened her eyes, the warmth in them spread all through the Doctor.
“I love you, too,” she told him quietly.
The Doctor giggled then—he couldn’t help it. Rose shook her head and stepped closer to him, sliding her hands over his shoulders. “Is that funny?” she asked.
“Nope.” He bent closer and bumped his nose against hers, getting her to giggle this time. “Not funny, just happy.”
Rose tilted her head, and for a long moment, they hovered there, almost kissing but not quite. The intimacy of their breath mixing made the Doctor’s hearts race.
Air from my lungs, he thought, remembering a long-ago adventure.
And then Rose’s lips were on his, and he decided this was the only adventure he wanted to think about.
59 notes · View notes
aevapollo · 3 years ago
Text
As I Am
My entry for the @trans-mages exchange week, my gift for @wellbelesbian. I hope you enjoy it!
My prompt was: Non-binary Baz, perhaps experimenting with pronouns and presentation and feeling affirmed by Simon and his friends.
(The title is from this quote from Carry On: "I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to carry on. As I am." -Baz)
Read it on AO3 or continue here!
Baz
Simon looks peaceful, looking up at the sun like that. Blissfully unaware of my fidgeting hands. I think about what he said just now--what he said about the vampire hotel, how happy and natural I seemed. The worst part is, he’s not wrong. Obviously, I didn’t want to stay there. That would’ve been a nightmare. But there was something about that night… I think it made me see myself in a way I never had before. That night, I got to be the gayest, sparkliest vampire there ever was. I got to be the most me I’ve ever been, and I liked it. Shit, I loved it.
I dunno. I’ve always been something less-than-masculine, much to my father’s chagrin. All those times I let my hair get just a little too long, whenever I wore a shirt that was just a bit too silky… he always had some carefully selected words. I never cared much for what he said about me. My goal back then was to push the limits of what he’d allow, but… maybe now that I’m with Simon, things will be different. Maybe I can finally be an adult about it and communicate. I could make up for all those years of repressed emotions.
Here goes nothing.
“Hey, Simon?”
“Hmmm?” He turns his head back to me but barely opens his eyes.
“ I-I need to tell you about something. And I don’t want to make you more stressed than you already are, or-or anything like that. So don’t feel like you need to understand me or act differently around me or feel--”
“--Baz, are you okay?” Simon cuts me off. He’d opened his eyes now, and seemed concerned.
I take a shaky breath. “Listen, I- I’m- I don’t really know if I’m totally… a guy. Like, I don’t think I want to be a girl, but what if I’m… neither? What if I’m non-binary, or something… like… that?” It all comes out in one big waterfall of words. Crowley, I hate feeling so out of control like this.
Simon’s brow is knotted. He’s thinking. “Alright, so non-binary… do you want to use different pronouns? And I shouldn’t call you ‘boyfriend’ anymore, right?”
“I...yeah. Yeah, exactly. I have wanted to try out they/them pronouns, if you don’t mind…”
“Of course I don’t mind. Baz, I-- you know I’d love you no matter what, right? I won’t stop just because you’re not a boy. Christ, I still don’t know if I’m gay or what, but I know I love you.”
He loves me. He said he loves me, that’s the first time he’s actually said it. The tears are coming. For once I don’t try to stop them or even hide my face. Simon pulls me into a hug, and I just melt into his arms. Somehow, nothing is wrong anymore now that I’m here.
***
I knew I would tell Simon first, and maybe I should leave it at that, but I just want to get this off my chest as soon as possible. After a while of being disgustingly vulnerable with him, I make my way back up to the house and onto the balcony. Shepard is here, too. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
Deep breath. “Hey. Um. Can I say something? I’m fairly sure I’m non-binary, and I’d like to try out they/them pronouns for a bit.” The words are coming out much easier the second time around.
Bunce’s eyes light up. “You are?! Oh, I’m so glad you told me! Wait, wait, I think I just saw an article about this the other day… some American celebrity who came out as non-binary? Hang on, I can find it real quick--”
“--That’s fine, but I appreciate it. Really,” I can’t help smiling at her excitement. Somehow this whole “coming out” thing has sapped me of all my sarcasm.
“Cool. I know some non-binary folks. Have you got a new name, or are you still going by Baz?”
“I’m still Baz, thanks.” Shepard hardly looks surprised, and I can’t say I blame him. I haven’t exactly been trying to act straight since we’ve known each other.
Just then, Wellbelove slides the balcony door open, looking anxious. I prepare myself to give the speech again, but she speaks first. “Hey, Baz, I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know anything yet but I… Well, I heard everything. The doors aren’t exactly soundproof. Still, I’m happy for you.” She manages a nervous smile.
“No, no, it’s alright. Makes things that much easier on me.” Everything happened so quickly. I’m not sure how I feel about Wellbelove finding out, but it was bound to happen eventually. I guess it’s good that she knows now, even if we’re not exactly close friends. Maybe that’s another thing I should work on, now that I’ve decided to be an adult. I could leave all these weird grudges in the past.
***
Later, Simon comes back inside and we all eat dinner in relative silence. It’s less like a family meal and more like the casual school dining halls we’re all accustomed to (except for Shepard, I suppose. Or maybe he had something similar). Wellbelove has been looking at me weirdly since she found out. I know she said she was happy for me, but I can’t help but worry about what she really thinks. I try to focus on Shepard spilling barbeque sauce everywhere.
Simon leans over to me. “Hey, Baz, I was wondering… does this mean you would want to wear different clothes? Or, like, makeup or something?”
I had expected questions like this. “Well, yeah, I have wanted to try wearing a skirt. Just to see if I like it, I mean.”
To my surprise, Wellbelove speaks up again. Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps she’s also attempting to mend our strange relationship.
“I’ve got some skirts that you could try on. If you want to, that is. I… don’t wear them much, anyway.”
“I--yeah, that would be really nice. You’re sure?”
She nods and stands up. I hesitantly follow her into an (unnecessarily posh, even by my standards) bedroom and can barely take in the surroundings before she shoves an armful of skirt in my face.
I crane my neck over the pile of fabric. “Um. Thank you, really. You didn’t have to do this, but…”
She looks down. “No, I wanted to. You know, I’ve been kind of questioning myself as well, but I didn’t want to say anything about it until I was sure,” she lowers her voice, “and at this point maybe I never will be. But this is the least I can do, right?” She offers another half-smile, and I do my best to return it.
“Well, that’s… thank you. Again. And you can talk to me about it. If you want to, of course. I… It might be nice to have someone to relate to.” I’m not sure if I’m reassuring her or myself at this point. Wellbelove seems to understand, and brightens up a bit.
“No, thank you. And you can keep the skirts if you want. I don’t think they suit me.”
She leaves me to sift through the pile. I eventually land on a possibility: it’s a deep forest green, smooth and swirly. When I hold it against my waist, it comes down just above my knees. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t be holding this; like nothing I do will ever turn me into the person I see myself as. But part of me also thinks skirts are fun, and that’s good enough for me. Nothing left to do but try it on.
I look in the mirror and-- Crowley, not again. I’m starting to cry again. It’s just a skirt, but-- well, something about this just makes me feel… different. A good different. More like myself.
Okay, take some deep breaths. I dry my eyes and stand up straight, twirling around a bit. I’m smiling like an idiot now, but I don’t mind. This is the happiest I’ve been for a long time.
I grab the doorknob and throw the door open, shamelessly strutting out and modeling the skirt for everyone. I hardly ever get to be myself like this, and I’m going to enjoy it if it’s the last thing I do.
Everyone’s looking at me. Everyone’s looking at me. Stay calm. Wellbelove is beaming, though she’s trying to hide behind her hands. Shepard just grins and gives me a thumbs-up. Simon’s face is bright red (can’t say I don’t enjoy that), and Bunce puts her hands in front of her mouth and squeals.
“Baz!! You look so good! The color really suits you!”
“Thank you,” I can’t control my smile at this point, “I--” Wait. I have an idea. My mother’s scarf--it’s still folded up in my shirt pocket. I unfold it and tie it around my hair, just like how she used to wear it. Simon’s regained his senses by now and gives me a small smile. I wonder what my mother would say if she could see me now.
Simon gets up and pulls me into a hug. I hug him back, and any apprehension I had fades away. Something about this is familiar; much as we used to hate each other, seeing Simon at Watford always felt like more of a home than my ���real” family ever did. Now it’s still the same: I’m at home wherever he is. Nobody can tell me who to be anymore.
***
Bonus:
Simon
Baz looks so good in a skirt. Of course, they do. They look good in everything. Still… something about the way they carry themselves now, how comfortable they look… this is more meaningful. I can’t pretend to know how they feel, or what they’re going through, but I do love them. I’m finally brave enough to say it.
As I pull Baz into a hug, I whisper it into their ear once again: “I love you. So much.”
They squeeze me tighter and return with an “I love you too. Even if your hair smells like barbeque smoke.”
Thank you for reading! This is the first fic I’ve ever published so hopefully I did good haha
This was like… wAYY longer than I planned to write but in my defense, this prompt was lovely and I just wanted there to be more. #noregrets this was very fun and I hope it’s fun for others as well :)
Also, I planned to post this earlier today but..... my laptop died and then I had to catch a flight. And then I thought "you know what would be a great idea? Writing a bonus section!!" ...so r.i.p. my schedule I guess ://
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