#Also I am stretching the prompt on first date yes yes I am Indeed. I didn’t have time to do a whole detailed piece for this one let me live

[loopyarts]

Day 2 First date Niji x Galette.

Hmm, I think their first date as fiancés went smashing. Is Niji having an actual nosebleed because how hot she is or did she give him one with her love you decided.

[mrskodzuken]

Late Night Stroll/A Cure for Insomnia

pairing: Kozume Kenma x f!reader

genre: fluff with crack bits; part of the Kenma with f!Filo!reader as s/o au (same universe as “Kodzuken Tries Eating Filipino Food for the First Time” and “How I Met Your Friend”).

wc: 0.8k

tw/cw: food, monosodium glutamate (MSG)’s sleep-inducing powers used as a punchline (sfw), some Filo phrases and jokes (obviously /lh) also a cameo mention of the Miya Twins, a bowl of sunshine and Iwaizumi Hajime (27), Athletic Trainer 😆

a/n: for @cryxtal-ame’s “In The Moonlight” collab—thank you for allowing me to join in your event, sweetie *headpats* ♥️ also I hc’d my selfship with Kenma as night owls, always staying late at night (even though I scold him for not sleeping early every now and then ahaha). Imma use that late-night stroll/konbini raid-with-Osamu prompt you’ve sent to me months ago here @love-amihan 😘 thank you @milffanaccount (I couldn’t tag you so...) @water-and-grass and @paradise-creator for beta reading this!! 🙇🏻‍♀️ *headpats 🥰* || Dedicated to all the night owls out there 🌃

Wanna join my general taglist? Click on this link 😉

[00:25]

“Kenma…” The tick-tacking typing sound of the keyboard stopped as your boyfriend turned on his gaming chair and looked at your pouting figure near the doorway, lifting his headset down to rest on his neck.

”Need something, kitten? I thought you’d be sleeping, why’re you still awake?”

You looked down anxiously then on one side until your eyes settled on him. Your hands can’t stop stuffing in and out of your hoodie’s front pocket. Your feet rocked back and forth gently.

“Um, I… I couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled.

Kenma slowly blinked then sighed before he smiled at you. “Get changed into something warmer and wait for me at the doorway. I’ll turn this off in a bit then I’ll follow you there, okay?” He turned his back on you, removed his headset and resumed his typing on the keyboard.

You were still clueless as to why Kenma wanted you to wear some warm clothes and wait for him at the doorway, but nonetheless you followed his instructions and quickly got outside the game room.

[00:53]

“So dark and quiet outside,” you softly whispered, your breath somewhat visible in the chilly midnight air. You glanced at Kenma as the two of you were walking down the dark and empty street, both your hands intertwined and swaying to and fro. “Why are we outside? Where are we going?” you asked.

“To the konbini. I’m still hungry, the beef sinangag (fried rice) you made is good but isn’t enough to make my stomach full,” he grumbled. And as if on cue, Kenma’s stomach grumbled loud, which made the both of you stop walking.

“Aha… gutom nga (hungry indeed),” you observed jokingly while seeing the former Nekoma setter blush with embarrassment.

“Shut up. I wish I could eat another bowl of it, but the meal’s good for two people only.” Kenma tugged on your hand and you both started walking again. “Thank goodness there’s no one in the street at this time… so embarrassing.”

“But the hungry sound your tummy made is cute though!”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is~”

“It’s not.”

.

.

.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not!”

[01:34]

The soothing background music blared faintly on the konbini’s speakers as you and Kenma both ate your food on the tables near the glass window, slurping on your cup noodles and chewing on convenience store onigiri.

You took the last bite of your onigiri into your mouth, licking the rice grains off your fingers. “Delicious, but not as delicious as Osamu-san’s onigiri,” you said in a hushed tone, drinking the noodle broth straight from the cup.

“Mhmm… wanna go to Onigiri Miya tomorrow for a date? I’ll clear my schedule—“ His sentence was cut short when you let out a loud burping sound (the staff who’s on shift that time heard it also, their eyes bulged at the sound resembling that of a croaking toad).

Kenma covered his mouth to muffle his laughter, with his back facing you. “How cute.”

“No, it’s not!”

“At least we’re even now.”

“S-shut yer trap, you…”

“Don’t Atsumu me, kitten. You still suck at speaking Kansai-ben.”

[01:56]

The lamppost illuminating a part of the park’s pathway flickered as you both strolled on the way home from the konbini. You both favored the quiet night surrounding the park, aside from a few car sounds from the nearby road and some chirping cicada noises, prompting you to yawn and stretch your arms upward.

Your boyfriend noticed this and calmly asked, “Feel sleepy now?”

You nodded, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “I guess the MSG in the cup noodles we’ve eaten earlier is kicking into my system.” Then your body suddenly shivered and you tighten up your jacket closer. “S-so cold, I wanna go home and curl myself under a kotatsu and sleep there… Kenma, what are you doing?”

You looked down and were faced with a crouching Kenma, his broad back in front of you and his hands curled backwards, as if he’s offering you a piggyback ride.

“Y/N, hop on.”

You felt your face getting flushed and waved your hands in panic, looking around just in case someone saw them. “K-kyanmaaa! Please get up, it’s embarrassing!”

“I know it’s embarrassing, but what would you do if you suddenly pass out and sleep here?” he mumbled, still in a piggyback position; you could see the tips of his ears getting redder every second—and it’s not just because of the cold freezing night. He has a point, you thought, another yawn escaping between your lips.

You walked a bit towards him, a little hesitant at first, before leaning down to rest yourself on his back. You quickly wrapped your arms around Kenma’s shoulders as he hoisted you up on his back comfortably, his arms hooking beneath your thighs.

“Don’t worry, we won’t fall down! All thanks to Shoyo for introducing me to their Olympic trainer Iwaizumi-san,” he grinned, gripping your thighs firmly as he started walking through the pathway towards the park’s exit.

You felt your eyes slowly closing, drowsiness taking over, and faint snores made their exit as you fell asleep on the pro-gamer’s back.

Kenma heard your soft snores and smiled lovingly to himself before looking up at the crescent moon shining above the sky, footsteps nearing your house.

“Sweet dreams, my dear kitten.”

Reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 all works by MadKittyBlossom © 2021.

My Masterlist

[drarrymybeloved]

Supersonic

“Good afternoon, good afternoon,” Harry greets his waiting students as he quickly makes his way to the front of the Room of Requirement where the Duelling Club meets once a week. Draco’s already there. He smiles in greeting when Harry catches his eye, sending a pleasant ripple through Harry.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” Harry apologises, an automatic smile curving his lips. 

“It’s alright, we haven’t been waiting long. I haven’t spoiled the surprise, don’t worry.” Draco winks at him, sending Harry’s imagination to inappropriate places. 

Shaking himself, Harry nods in gratitude and turns towards the students, waiting for them to fall silent.

“Hi everyone, sorry I’m late. But I hope what we're working on today will make up for my tardiness,” he begins. “You’ve all been practicing your defensive spells for long enough now – I think you’re ready to start practicing actual duelling.” 

A shiver of excitement passes through the room as students turn to their friends and start whispering to one another. 

“Now, before I pair you off, I want you all to witness proper duelling etiquette and technique. Spellwork is just one part of what makes a good dueller. Professor Malfoy,” Harry indicates to his right as Draco takes a step forward, “will be helping me out with that.”

Harry glances towards Draco at the same time that Draco looks at him. Their eyes meet, sparking something heated in Harry’s gut. Tearing his eyes away, he busies himself with erecting a small magical barrier between the duelling mat and the students. It’s not really necessary, but as far as his students’ safety is concerned, Harry would like to err on the side of caution.

Once finished, Harry takes his stance in front of Draco. 

“Scared, Potter?” Draco murmurs, grey eyes shining with amusement. The effect is instantaneous – adrenaline surges through Harry. He grins. “You wish, Malfoy.”

And then they’re stalking off to their respective ends of the mat, whirling back around to face each other. Draco smirks at him as they bow. Refusing to get distracted, Harry wastes no time in sending a Jelly-Legs jinx Draco’s way, which he dodges neatly while shooting off a Tarantallegra that catches Harry’s left leg.

Wobbling slightly as his leg valiantly attempts to dance the salsa, Harry aims a Tickling charm at Draco that hits him square in the chest, making him double over with laughter. 

“Expelliarmus,” Harry shouts triumphantly, knocking Draco’s wand out of his hand. Applause bursts out from where the students are standing.

Draco straightens, hands on his hips and gasping slightly. As Harry walks up to him to return his wand, he smiles crookedly. “Not bad, Professor Potter.”

Smiling back at him, Harry hands Draco’s wand back. “Not bad yourself, Professor Malfoy,” he murmurs. He holds Draco’s gaze for a touch longer than necessary before he remembers he’s supposed to be teaching children how to duel.

Snapping out of it, he turns to address the awed faces around him. “Right, so, that is what a duel looks like. I hope you noted our movements – the way Professor Malfoy dodged my first spell for instance,” he instructs. “Please make your way to the duelling mats with your partners, and let's get started.”

For the next hour, Harry circles the room, correcting stances and incantations. He’s constantly aware of Draco’s presence, but he’s determined to stay on task, so he keeps his eyes and attention firmly on his students. Tries to, at least.

It’s the most distracted Harry has been while teaching, but no major mishaps happen and by the end of the hour, the students are tumbling out of the Room of Requirement, tired but still full of exuberance at having gotten a taste of hands-on defensive magic.

Satisfied, Harry starts rolling up the mats and putting away the training dummies. Draco joins him, and they work together in companionable silence – even if it is stretched taut with a tension Harry has gotten used to over months of working together.

As they put away the last of the mats, Draco turns to face Harry. “I was wondering,” he starts, maintaining eye contact but distractedly fiddling with his sleeves (which have been rolled up to his elbows at some point, revealing pale, corded forearms that Harry definitely has not been sneaking glances at), “if you would like to go on a date with me?”

Shocked surprise leaves Harry gaping at Draco in silence. He tries to find words, any words, but all his mind has to offer is an astoundingly articulate “uhhhhhh.”

“It’s just, I have asked you before, or at least I thought I had, what with the invitations to drinks and dinner, but I don’t think I was clear enough,” Draco barrels on in an attempt to fill the silence. “So, I’m uh, being clear now. I hope.” He coughs, cheeks steadily pinking.

“You’re gay?” Harry blurts out without thinking, and of course, that has to be what comes out first. 

Draco’s eyebrows rise to meet his hairline. “Yes, Harry, I am indeed gay. Something that literally every student and professor at Hogwarts knows,” he says slowly, before looking around in bemusement. “What on Earth–” 

And that’s when Harry realises the Room of Requirement is echoing with It's Raining Men.

Oh, no. Cheeks burning, Harry quickly reins in his rogue magic. “The Room can be weird at times,” he fibs, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding all eye contact.

“Right...” Draco drags out skeptically. Visibly moving past it, he asks, “So, dinner?”

Excitement frizzes through Harry’s veins, crackling in his stomach. “Dinner sounds good,” he agrees, trying to temper his grin. 

Draco smiles, his shoulders relaxing, eyes warm and pleased. Harry thinks he could get lost in those mercurial depths. 

But then confusion, followed by realisation, and finally, amusement steals into Draco’s gaze. His shoulders start to shake with mirth. Baffled, Harry pulls himself out of his thoughts to ask what’s so funny, when his ears are assaulted with Celine Dion singing her lungs out.

“The Room acting out again?” Draco asks, all faux innocence, barely able to contain his laughter.

Horrified, Harry buries his face – now beetroot red – into his hands and fervently wishes for the sweet release of death.

He hears Draco chuckle and then feels gentle fingers prying his hands away from his face. Cringing, he meets Draco’s bright gaze. “So, my magic reacts oddly sometimes,” he offers weakly. 

“I noticed,” Draco informs him, and closes the inches between them to press his lips to Harry’s. 

Harry freezes in surprise for a second before he’s moving, tilting his head and interlacing their fingers. He can feel Draco smiling into the kiss and he’s alight with it.

In the background, Freddy Mercury croons, I’m trav’ling at the speed of light.

for @vukovich who, among other things, said they like magical hijinks and oblivious harry. also for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: parallel. i tried to inject some of Vuk’s energy into this re: weirdness, but i’m not sure how successful i was 😂 i hope you like it Vuk!

thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the beta!

read on ao3

[pinkhairedlily]

Blue Fire Tree

Prompt: Everlasting (last day omgggg) | Gift for @tinaillustrations ! Hope you like this fluffy piece! I enjoyed writing this one. 🤗| Happy HitsuHina Week! @hitsuhina-week 💛💙

“Fire trees should be blue not red,” Ichika mumbles while filling in the traced pattern of the tree on the canvass as Hinamori gathers her unruly red mane into a semblance of a bun. Her charge was a Shinigami apprentice and had the hodgepodge attitude of both of her parents. She was sarcastic, blunt, inquisitive, passionate, and kind.

Renji thought she was the best person to teach his daughter common spells to start off her training. Not that Hinamori disliked being the resident kido expert. She particularly loved the monicker, but there were times she felt she didn’t deserve the title. Like today when, for some other reason, Ichika and her was blindsided by arts and crafts.

“Wouldn’t you like the flowers to resemble your hair?” Hinamori clips the last of the strands and looks over the child’s shoulder. The colors spill out of the lines and the scenery seems to change from summer to winter.

“But blue is the hottest color. Imagine trees blooming with the brightest flames, the most intense warmth, and the most lasting flowers.” Ichika finishes the piece with a last dash of blue paint. The apprentice turns to her and asks, “Does it look so desolate?”

“No, not really. To me, winter has always been warm.“

Someone coughs behind them to get their attention. Hitsugaya Toushiro, captain of the 10th Division, stands awkwardly at the entrance of the dojo with a tray of tea and pot of biscuits. It doesn’t escape her notice that he used the tea set she gave last Christmas, and this observation makes her feel giddy inside.

Maybe I’m just appreciative of people who use my gifts, Hinamori justifies to herself.

“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya. Is that for us or for Vice-Captain Momo?” Ichika greets him as she takes the tray off his hands.

The blush creeps on the captain’s face just as quickly as his brows furrow in annoyance. He quickly glares at the mischievous remark of Ichika and redirects his gaze to his equally flustered childhood best friend. “This was not of my own good will. I was threatened by Byakuya to take good care of his precious niece, and it just so happens that this space is under my jurisdiction.”

Hinamori tilts her head in a slight apology. “I hope we don’t bother you too much. Would you like to join us for some art session? Ichika loves to paint today.”

He almost says something, but he stops himself. His stance goes from alert to rigid, and tension fills the air. “Maybe some other time.” Ichika glances from her current teacher to the captain and back to her teacher again.

“Oh, sorry for taking up your time.” Hinamori slightly bows, unsure of what transpired just now, and Hitsugaya nods in return. Before he is completely out of her sight, she calls out to him again.

“Shiro-chan?” He glances back at the sound of his nickname. “Thanks for the tea.”

He smiles in mild annoyance before he flash-steps out of their sight. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

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

“Something’s bothering you,” Rangiku says to Hinamori as she slides beside her in the ramen booth. “Your treat in exchange for my wisdom.” She proceeds to order her usual ramen and sake combo.

“How was your trip to the Land of the Living?” Hinamori asks, obviously skirting the issue she wishes to raise.

“Kazui is subdued and gentle like his mother, but somehow, he manages to get into fights with bullies on the street. It’s his Ichigo genes.” The combo meal arrives along with two shot glasses. “How are you doing with the chaotic devil spawn Ichika?”

“She’s progressing really fast with the kido, but she gets so distracted easily. It’s cute though that Renji and Rukia are not pressuring her. Great parents. How nice it must be.”

Rangiku side-eyes her while slurping the thick noodles. “How nice what now – “

Hinamori plays with her empty bowl and fidgets with her chopsticks. “To not be alone.”

She chokes on her noodles and quickly downs half of the sake bottle. “Oh, this is great news! I have someone on my mind who would like to be in your company forever.”

Hinamori gives no response and instead continues fiddling with her bowl. “How nice it is to be also like Shiro-chan, content and busy enough to be single. How do I become like your captain, Rangiku?”

The smile fades from the woman’s face and is replaced by a bustling vein near her temple. “I’m sorry what did that short man do or say to you?”

“I asked him if he would like to do some art with us, you know, help me with babysitting for a few minutes, but he literally stiffened like a stick. Seems like he doesn’t want to waste time with kids or do any family-related activities. Or maybe he’s just too busy, captain duties and all.”

And yet he took the time to bring you tea, a voice screams inside her mind.

“That’s….rude,” an exasperated Rangiku remarks. She pours a glass for Hinamori and decides on a plan. “Unless you’re seeing him as….?”

“Huh? Oh no no no.” Hinamori downs the liquid in one gulp, suddenly embarrassed by her friend’s insinuation. “We’re just friends, childhood friends. I…don’t see Shiro-chan that way.”

“Sure, whatever you say Momo. Do you want me to introduce you to some people?”

Hinamori looks up at her, doe-eyed.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

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

Hinamori actually forgot about her request to Rangiku as she and her student started to settle in a rather serious kido training. The plan apparently was set to happen after a week when she came across a bulletin announcing her quest for a perfect match through a one-day interview application. This was the first time Hinamori wanted to be swallowed by the void and never return to Seiretei.

She finds herself visiting Division 10 HQ every afternoon but to no avail since coincidentally, Rangiku has some errands to do in Karakura, and won’t be back until the date of the interview. Or maybe it has also something to do with Hinamori avoiding Hitsugaya and having to do all the explaining. And so she had no choice but to wait for the inevitable day.

“Uhhh Vice-Captain Matsumoto, you said introduce, not organize a whole dating screening process!” Hinamori’s voice goes a pitch higher for each word, but Rangiku is too busy arranging the people lining up to notice her.

Her current captain, Shinji Hirako, chuckles beside the blondie, amused by the growing line of eligible Shinigami singles in their HQ. “You are quite the eye candy in our division, huh. Didn’t expect you’d have this many suitors.” He squeezes his vice-captain’s shoulder as form of reassurance. “You should have told me, Hinamori. I could have set you up in an arranged marriage.”

“Captain, that’s atrocious!” Hinamori protests. She walks over to Rangiku to disperse the line, but Yumichika and Ikkaku move to her side and grabs her midway through her litany of objections. They lead her to a makeshift container with two chairs facing each other and a table in between.

“This is ridiculous,” Hinamori mumbles her breath, her energy already defeated by the two dumbasses in front of her.

“Well to be fair, Hinamori, this is a long time coming,” Yumichika says.

“And the result necessitates this kind of method so stop mumbling and screen your admirers, babe,” Ikkaku supplies. Irritated, Hinamori chases them off with two fireballs.

The first ten Shinigami ‘applicants’ were too insufferable as they were clearly aiming for the prestige of her position.

“If dating a vice-captain would give me a higher seat in Gotei 13 then why am I still single?” she bats the question to the 11th person who sat across her. When they didn’t give her an answer, she sighs, “Next please.”

“Would you know what’s my favorite brand of tea?”

“Uhh, Robusta.”

“I believe that’s coffee. Next please.”

“Hello, vice-captain Hinamori, I brought you peaches. They’re my favorite.”

“I’m allergic to them. I’m sorry. Next please?”

“What are your strengths?”

“Well, I can do shunpo.”

“That’s basic Shinigami skills.”

“…………..”

“…………..”

“I’ll see myself out. Thank you for your time, vice-captain.”

“I know you’re traumatized by Aizen-“

The container collapses as Hinamori summons Tobiume.

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

“I think I will be forever alone.” Hinamori looks on as her fellow vice-captains clean up the mess she incurred over the unfinished statement earlier.

“I’m really sorry if I did the whole thing over the top,” Rangiku tells her sincerely. She hugs the raven-haired girl and waits in silent for the commotion to die down. “Though the last one was really foul, and you were valid to be angry.”

“I was afraid I’d burn down Captain Shinji’s quarters.”

“You can, just to piss him off. The whole process is so draining, huh?” Hinamori nods at the observation. Rangiku continues, seemingly voicing her own thoughts, “It’s hard to put yourself out there especially when they don’t know batshit about you. Would be easier if you have common interests or when they’re already your friend.”

The last phrase is said so pointedly that Hinamori’s mind automatically pictures Hitsugaya. She runs along with her imagination. How easy it would be indeed to spend the rest of her life with him. And as if her mind conjured him, the 10th Division Captain comes into view alongside Ichika. It looks like her student dragged him to the unfortunate event.

There’s an angry glint in his eyes that Hinamori noticed. It was the torn expression he wore when she wounded her knees back when they were kids, the same frown when she told him she would kill for the traitor, the same worried eyes when she almost died. But his eyes refuse to meet hers.

“You missed all the fun, Captain.” Rangiku stretches out her arms as she stands up. She gestures for the rest of their friends to come nearer so they could re-group and go home. “It was a bad plan, and I owe Hinamori one. So we’re kinda ready for your scolding.”

Hitsugaya stays silent throughout the shuffling of his fellow Shinigami, in fact he remains frozen for too long that Ichika elbows him to get a response out of him. “Come on, you ruminated one week for this, and I had to physically stop you from harassing the interested applicants.”

“Shut up, Ichika,” the silver-haired captain mutters.

“I’ll tell on you to Uncle Byakuya!” the redhead sticks out her tongue and runs over to the side of Rangiku.

More annoyed than ever, Hitsugaya grunts and storms off towards Hinamori. “I’m not here to scold anyone. I’m here for the….dating application,” he gulps amid the collective gasps that ran through the group and the muffled laughter of Rangiku who clearly foresaw this.

“Well, what can I say, but fucking finally!” The blonde swigs a new bottle of wine from inside her robes and goes to do a little crowd control.

Hinamori’s eyes get a little bit bigger, and she stares at him with mouth agape, but she lets him grab her hand, in a gentle manner that he usually does, and brings her to the farthest fire tree in the area.

“Shiro-chan, what did you mean……” She continues to stare at his hand who somehow refuses to let go of her yet.

Ironically, he is also staring at the same hand, unsure whether to let go right now before he can actually say something. “I don’t know why you had to go through all of that.”

“I’m..I’m still confused, to be honest. It was just a passing feeling of loneliness, and I rambled to Rangiku which she took seriously….” Hinamori knows she is starting to word vomit out of nervousness, but she halts when he finally lets her go. Maybe she has misunderstood his presence again.

Hitsugaya raises his palm to her. “Would you let me…uhhh…word vomit this time?”

She slowly nods, rather shocked at his insistence, and even more so when he chooses to ramble.

“Momo, I have a cold reiatsu. My touch is never warm. But I know you like green tea, steeped in warm water for exactly 10 minutes, and that you don’t put sugar. You are afraid of storms, and you need a blanket around you to calm down. You like watermelon, but I think it’s because I subjected you to multiple summers of conditioning. You’re my childhood best friend. You’re hardworking. You are a kido expert. You earned your right to be a vice-captain, and you’ll do greater things.

And I know it’s not enough to say that I know you, I’ve always known you, but will it be enough for you to allow me to stay beside you?”

Hinamori leans against the trunk of the fire tree, breathless from his train of words. “Oh my god, this is too overwhelming. I thought you hated being not single.”

“What?” Hitsugaya looks at her with a puzzled expression.

“You don’t like Ichika. Or doing art…with kids.”

“Well, Ichika is a brat to me, but she’s a good student and will be a good Shinigami like her parents.” He nurses his temples for the growing headache. “Momo, listen to me.” He steps closer to her and makes sure she’s only looking at him. “I panicked because I visualized you and me….and you know. It wasn’t right when I haven’t even told you anything yet.”

“Oh.” The moment of realization dawns on her. “Oh, that’s great.”

“So we can finally go back to how we were.” Hitsugaya lets out a shaky breath as he sits on the grass and watches as the red petals of the fire tree shower them lightly.

A blushing Hinamori crouches down to his level. “Well, not quite. You should know, Shiro-chan, your reiatsu has always been warm and comforting to me.” She reaches out to take his hand and intertwines their fingers.

Hitsugaya smiles as he silently thanks himself that he outgrew her by two inches so he could easily slip a kiss on her forehead. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya.”

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

Ichika tries to see beyond the wall of spectators but Rangiku is not letting anyone through. She huffs indignantly, wanting to know whether her incessant prodding and pestering of the oblivious Hitsugaya bore some fruit. She has no choice but to juice out all the details later on from her uncle.

On second thought, maybe she won’t have to. Blue petals swayed with the light breeze of the wind, and on the far edge of the Fifth Division’s HQ is a lone blue fire tree.

[owl-with-a-pen]

I would love to see a Valentine’s Day chapter with Brainy and nia. We didn’t get to see much of it on that one episode, beside that fact Brainy went to her party and gave her chocolates that Yvette ate later. Just a simple one where Brainy is super sweet and asks nia to be his valentine wether this is before or after they’re together. Thanks!

Anon also asked:  Hi there! would you ever think of doing a valentine's themed fic for brania? I miss them so much and I love your work!

- I know I’m a day late, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the prompts x

Valentine’s Day was going to be weird this year, Nia knew it.

After everything Brainy had been through over the last few months, the last thing Nia wanted was to push the most commercial of commercial holidays on him, especially considering they’d never actually had a Valentine’s Day together. She couldn’t exactly count the epic failure that had been their first Valentine’s party  on account of the fact that they hadn’t seen each other the whole night.

And, last year?

There was no use sugar coating it; they’d both been going through hell last year. The break-up had still been fresh in Nia’s mind and although Kara had tried to help her out of the funk she’d been in, Nia had still spent the whole day curled up on the sofa - her only hot date that night had been with an ice cold tub of Ben and Jerry’s.  

Now that Nia understood the reason behind their break-up, she knew that Brainy hadn’t been faring any better than her at the time, either. The only thing he’d had to keep his mind occupied were the asinine tasks Lex had kept him performing as placeholders whenever a new piece of his plan had yet to unfold.

Nia tried not to linger on that year. What mattered now was that the truth was finally out. Brainy was safe and healthy and, most importantly, he was finally starting to feel like himself again. 

Nia didn’t care that Brainy hadn’t so much as made mention of the holiday – not even after Kara had invited them to a lowkey Valentine’s get together at her place later that evening, an invitation that had only been extended as far as the Super Friends. Considering Brainy had been reluctant to hang out with everyone as a group since Leviathan, Nia was only glad that he’d wanted to go at all. Besides, she didn’t care about gifts or celebrations, she was just thankful to put the past behind her and finally have Brainy back in her life.

Which was why she was all the more surprised to open their apartment door that evening and find Brainy stood on the other side, a bunch of roses held tightly in one hand.

A grin lit up Nia’s face in an instant. “Hey,” she said, not even trying to hide the glee from her voice. “Are those for me?”

“Indeed,” Brainy said, taking a step forward. In the same motion, he removed his other hand from behind his back, revealing a heart shaped box of chocolates. “I – uh – appreciate we have never successfully completed a Valentine’s Day tradition before, so allow this to be the first.”

Nia didn’t think she could smile any harder if she tried. She took the flowers from Brainy, the fresh scent of their petals brushing against her nose as she brought them to her face. She felt a blush race across her cheeks. “Real flowers, huh?” she asked mischievously.

Brainy’s lips quirked into a small smile of his own. “That is the custom,” he said, offering the chocolate box out to her with a practiced flourish. “As is this.” He cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Nia Nal, will you be my Valentine?”

A blush flooded across Nia’s face as she grinned again, nodding hard. “Yes, Brainy, of course I’ll be your Valentine.” She accepted the chocolates from Brainy’s hand, juggling them along with the flowers until they were both cradled in one arm. 

“This is amazing,” she said honestly, closing the space between them so that she could hug him with her free arm. She ducked her face into Brainy’s shoulder, squeezing him tight.

The warmth of him spread through her face as she buried her head into his throat. A moment later, she could feel Brainy’s hands travelling around her waist, pressing firmly against the small of her back. His touch sent something electric dancing up Nia’s spine and she softened against him, pulling away just enough to press a kiss against his lips.

When they parted, Nia didn’t miss the elated glimmer behind Brainy’s eyes. It was such a soft expression, one that hadn’t adorned Brainy’s face for so long, Nia had almost begun to forget what it looked like. Now that Brainy had begun to relax into himself, that happiness had become far more commonplace, although it still warmed Nia’s heart whenever she got to see that expression and know that she was the cause of it. Impetuously, Nia reached for Brainy’s face, brushing her thumb along his jaw, hoping to preserve that smile for as long as possible.

She blinked suddenly, realising belatedly that they were still stood in the middle of the doorway. “I should really put these in water,” she said, hugging the flowers against her side. She ushered Brainy inside with her free hand, turning to the kitchen to find a vase. “And by the way,” she continued over her shoulder, placing the heart-shaped box on the closest counter, “this isn’t technically the first time you’ve bought me a Valentine’s gift.”

Nia didn’t need to turn her head to know the face Brainy was pulling. “Ah, yes,” he murmured apprehensively. “Although, I wouldn’t say our first Valentine’s Day necessarily went… according to plan.”

“Oh, I remember,” Nia said, selecting an empty glass vase from the top shelf. She headed to the faucet, filling it with water. When she glanced up, she found Brainy watching her from across the kitchen counter, his arms folded across its surface. She smirked. “Didn’t you spend most of that party hidden in my closet?”

Brainy offered a tight smile, ducking his head. “Yvette was certainly a force to be reckoned with,” he admitted lowly, glancing up at her. “Although, I do appreciate you talking with her about boundaries.”

Nia’s expression softened. “Any time.”

She’d known Yvette hadn’t meant to take Brainy out of his comfort zone by dragging him to the dancefloor that night. Considering Nia had made herself MIA for most of that party – a party she’d specifically invited Brainy to - Yvette had only wanted for him to feel included.

But, the party hadn’t been Brainy’s thing to begin with. She’d left him to his own devices in a room otherwise filled with strangers, and maybe at the time she hadn’t realised just how anxious Brainy got in those sorts of situations, but she knew better now. Still, it didn’t stop her from feeling all kinds of crappy that she’d allowed that to happen, even if her head hadn’t totally been in the game at the time.

Nia played with the roses’ arrangement in their new home, spreading them equally around the vase. She sighed. “I didn’t exactly make that night any easier for you, though.”

“You had a lot on your mind,” Brainy said softly.

Yeah, Nia thought. She’d been so obsessed with finally making strides towards her role as a hero, taking up the mantle her mom had so proudly left for her, she’d even dismissed Brainy’s incredibly sweet gesture the first time around, disregarding his gift of chocolates in favour of a new training regime. But, not anymore. This time, they were doing this right.

“Well,” she said decisively, setting the vase to the side, “right now, my mind’s totally clear.” She glanced again towards the box of chocolates, biting the inside of her cheek. “C’mon,” she said, snatching them from the counter. “We can share these.” 

As she walked around the breakfast bar, she took Brainy’s arm, urging him towards the sofa. Brainy followed curiously a pace behind her.

As Nia settled, tucking her legs beneath her, she popped open the box, reading the label on the inside. She grinned. “There’s coffee flavour ones in here, too? Okay, I take back what I just said. We can share any except for those.”

Brainy supressed an obvious shudder as he sat down. “They are… all yours.”

“What?” Nia prodded playfully, nudging his arm. “Not a fan?”

Brainy wrinkled his nose, gesturing vaguely ahead of himself. “I just don’t understand how two opposing flavours serve to compliment one another.”

“Oh, and yet apples and olives are just… a natural choice on pizza,” Nia scoffed.

“Either one would be far more palatable covered in chocolate.”

Nia rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’ll agree with you about the apples,” she said, already perusing the selection, trying to find the coffee flavoured truffle as advertised on the card. “But, I’m pretty sure chocolate covered olives are a crime against nature.” She beamed when she found her prize, taking a large bite out of the candy. When Brainy’s face scrunched in disgust, she laughed, covering her mouth before any wayward chocolate dribbled out. 

She held the chocolates out on her lap for Brainy to browse, which only fuelled the next twenty minutes’ topic of discussion with good natured jabs aimed towards each other’s preferred chocolate flavours. 

By the time they needed to head out for Kara’s party, the first layer had been all but demolished.

“We should probably get going,” Nia said as she spied the time on the kitchen clock. She pecked Brainy’s cheek before unfurling herself from his side, stretching out her arms.

When she stood, she realised that Brainy hadn’t followed her up. Instead, there was a reserved look in his eyes, a nervous twist to his lips as he remained sat on the sofa’s edge, toying absently with his Legion ring. 

“Brainy?” Nia asked, her voice softening. When Brainy looked up, she smiled gently. “Everything okay?” 

Brainy opened his mouth as though he might answer, but instead, no words came out. Nia sat back down, resting her hand on his leg. “Hey, you sure you’re up for this? You know there’s no pressure.”

Brainy shook himself a little, clenching and unclenching his hand hesitantly. “I do,” he said carefully, glancing back towards her. “I am. It’s just…”

“I get it,” Nia said, squeezing his leg. And, she did. Even though the gathering would be small, filled with the people Brainy cared about, on some level, Nia understood that that was what he was dreading the most. As much as he knew that his friends had forgiven him, the real issue was that Brainy hadn’t yet reached a place where he’d been able to forgive himself. It’d come in time, but if he refused every get-together or social gathering entirely, it’d only take him that much longer to reach the obvious conclusion.

That he was loved. And that was never going to change.

And, hey, what better time to remind him of that than on Valentine’s Day?

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Nia assured him. “And, if you’re not feeling it, we don’t have to stay for long. What d’you say?”

After a long moment’s consideration, Brainy glanced down, taking Nia’s hand. He smiled, a little of his confidence returning as he nodded his head. “Okay,” he said.

Nia grinned. “Okay.” 

Maybe she’d been wrong, maybe Valentine’s wasn’t going to feel as weird this year. After all, with flowers, chocolate, and finally having the chance to spend the day with Brainy at her side, Nia realised that maybe this might turn out to be the best Valentine’s Day she’d ever had.

[angstyaches]

hey flick! I'd love to read something fluffy - maybe a valentines drabble? I'd die for some ryan x nancy content but I'd also love seeing what charlies and shaynes first valentines day together is like

well - you decide. just write whatever you want honestly

ps: I hope you're doing well

Date Night with Nancy and Ryan! (A Little Late for Valentine’s Day, Oops)

Em. Em, I just – I could not decide whether I wanted Ryan or Nancy to be in discomfort, and my brain melted somewhere along the way. (It seems that some days, I can be very bi, and maybe a little too goofy.)

CW: indigestion, hiccups, burping, slight nausea, lady sickee(s), food mention, brief blood (drinking) mention, just silliness

__

Nancy put a hand on the blanket and reclined a little, her long, dark ponytail sliding over her bare should before swinging against her back. She was dressed optimistically for early spring, especially since the sun had been down for a couple of hours already, but spontaneous European getaways with your 200-year-old vampire wife called for the most romantic of clothes.

She shook her head slowly as lights – as many on the tower as they were stars in the sky, it seemed – sparkled in her eyes. A smile crossed her face as she remembered how Ryan had said “Picnic by the Seine”, and Nancy had thought it must have been the name of a new restaurant that had opened nearby. However, one flight and one limousine ride later, and here they were, basking in the Eiffel Tower’s glittering beauty while an actual accordion was being played somewhere downstream. (Although Nancy had carefully pinned the idea for a French restaurant with a picnic theme in her mind for later consideration.)

“Nancy Aldridge,” Ryan droned from a mere couple of inches away, where she was propped up by her elbow as she lay on her side. “Are you ponderin’?”

Nancy tilted her head back a little further. “I might be.”

“What are you pondering, love?”

Nancy smiled and reclined even more, until the back of her head was resting against Ryan’s thighs. She was still holding a glass of the crispest, most refreshing wine she’d ever tasted, and she held it with the stem pressed against her stomach as she looked up at her wife’s face.

“I was thinking that I must have married a mad woman.”

“Huh.” Ryan gently swirled her own wine glass, which was sporting a thin, black lipstick stain. She was drinking the same wine as Nancy, even though she usually opted for clear spirits when she wasn’t drinking purely blood. The low lighting of the city and the shadow of the embankment cast her sharp, pale features quite softly. “Mais je pense souvent la même chose.”

Nancy groaned. “You don’t always have to exhibit the fact that you’re multi-lingual, mon cheri.”

“Mon?” Ryan repeated in her usual Northern-Irish accent. She glanced pointedly down at her white blazer, and white shirt that was tucked neatly into cropped grey trousers. “Am I looking particularly masculine tonight?”

“Oh.” Nancy covered her mouth with one hand and giggled, causing herself to hiccup slightly. Her wine glass jumped along with her belly, but the liquid stopped sloshing just short of the rim. “It’s ma cherie, right? You know I’ve only learned whatever French I’ve heard in movies.”

“Mmm, the same way you learned to flirt from movies.”

“Says the one who took me to Paris for Valentine’s Day,” Nancy teased. 

“Yes, because I know you’re partial to the odd cliché now and then.” With the hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass, Ryan ran the pads of two fingers along the curve of Nancy’s neck.

Nancy closed her eyes briefly and made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a purr, which quickly escalated into another hiccup. She opened her eyes again and carefully set her wine glass aside on the ground, one hand resting on her stomach.

The wine, along with the selection of cheese and the fresh bakery bread that she’d been munching on while they watched the lights and the boats from the riverbank, suddenly sat awfully heavily inside her. She hadn’t meant to eat quite so much, but the bread had been so crispy on the outside and bouncy on the inside, and each kind of cheese jolted her taste buds like they’d previously been in hibernation. And it didn’t help that the scenery so all-encompassing that she hadn’t paid much attention to quantity as she nibbled and drank.

The next hiccup was high-pitched, and brought the acidic sting of indigestion into her throat. Nancy clapped a hand over her mouth as the sound echoed through the little section of embankment that they had claimed for the evening.

Ryan removed her fingers from Nancy’s neck, instead resting a hand on her shoulder and peering down at her face. “Are you alright, Nan?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Nancy giggled from behind her hand, even as her stomach pinched slightly. “The wine, or – or something, isn’t sitting very well.”

She ran a hand tentatively down across her stomach, finding that it filled out the front of her cherry-red dress a lot more than it had when she’d first gotten dressed. It wasn’t tight or stiff with all of the food inside, but it was distinctly rounder. She felt a rumble beneath her hand, frowning and pursing her lips as she rubbed it away.

“Do you feel nauseous?”

“Oh - well, maybe a little.” Nancy smiled up at Ryan with some strain when her wife’s face betrayed a touch of concern. “Oh, I’ll be quite fine. Don’t look so stressed, cookie; you might end up with wrinkles for the rest of eternity.”

She reached up to tap Ryan on the end of her nose. Ryan looked back down at her with a lazy, contented look in her deep-yellow eyes. The Eiffel Tower was just out of Nancy’s sight, but its lights still flickered and softened the lines of Ryan’s jaw.

Unfortunately, that was the moment when another hiccup decided to wrack Nancy’s entire body, making her stomach slosh audibly before it bubbled down into quiet grumbling again.

“You’re really contributing to the ambience, love,” Ryan mumbled with the slightest ghost of a smile. She reached across with one hand to rub the top of Nancy’s belly.

“It’s not quite my fault,” Nancy half-chuckled, squirming and blushing slightly at the attention. “You probably don’t remember it, but indigestion can be quite unpleasant...”

A deep gurgle erupted under Ryan’s palm. Nancy pressed her lips together briefly before blocking a belch with the back of her hand. It, too, seemed to reverberate against the embankment the same way it had against her ribs, and Nancy’s heart sank as the distant accordion player ceased their playing for a moment. 

“Oh, excuse me,” Nancy gasped, keeping her hand against her mouth as she listened for the music, waiting for it to begin again. “I think I scared away the accordion player.”

“I’m not complaining.” Ryan smoothed Nancy’s ponytail out over her knee. “We can enjoy some peace and quiet for a little while.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice, actually.” 

Nancy sighed and rested her hands on her full belly again as Ryan went back to propping herself up with both arms. There was indeed a stretch of quiet along their stretch of the river, aside from the soft movements of the water and white-noise city traffic. 

The indigestion passed by the minute, the pressure in Nancy’s gut easing as everything settled and the acidic taste was gone from her throat. Her diaphragm was no longer tense with the threat of hiccups, and she felt even more relaxed than she had all evening.

So when there was suddenly a loud gurgle, Nancy was as surprised as Ryan, who looked down at her again with a mock glare.

“That’s not exactly quiet.”

“That...” Nancy tightened her grip on her stomach out of instinct, though she was very sure that the sound hadn’t come from her. “That wasn’t me.”

She sat forward slightly, looking over her shoulder at her wife. Ryan’s gaze was already averted towards her own midsection, where the clasp on her trousers seemed strained in front of her tucked shirt.

“Apologies, love.” Ryan’s hand hovered near her stomach, like she was reluctant to touch it, but was perhaps considering it anyway. “It seems the wine isn’t agreeing with me either.”

Nancy pursed her lips as she frowned sympathetically. She glanced down the embankment, confirming that they were still alone, and that no boats full of tourists were about to come gliding past. “Undo your pants!”

Ryan scoffed. “You must be incredibly drunk, if you of all people are suggesting public indecency.”

“It’s not public indecency, is it?” Nancy laughed. “There’s nobody around, cookie. You’ll feel better, trust me. I’m wearing a nice, loose-fitting dress, but those pants look painful.”

While her features barely shifted, Nancy could read the doubt and hesitation that lingered on Ryan’s face. 

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Nancy said, shifting onto her knees and reaching for the clasp below Ryan’s waist.

“What - don’t you dare!” Ryan tried to roll away from Nancy’s hands, when suddenly she froze, eyes widening as she sat forward. 

Nancy froze too, carefully placing a hand on Ryan’s back and tilting her head so she could see her face. “Ryan, are you quite -?”

The vampire’s eyes widened even further as she opened her mouth, air rumbling audibly in her chest before it burst out of her. The belch ended abruptly, with Ryan covering her mouth with her palm. It was, unfortunately, a little too late to stifle what had already happened.

“Oh, wow.” Nancy covered her own mouth to disguise the terrible job she was doing of suppressing a grin. She patted Ryan’s back with her other hand. “What do you say, cookie?”

“What?” Ryan blinked and shook her head. “I - excuse me, love. Really. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Nothing wrong with a little ambience,” Nancy shrugged.

Ryan sighed and finally rubbed her stomach, prompting a growl from inside the distressed organ as she turned to look at Nancy. “I believe I’ve had enough ambience for tonight. Shall we head for the hotel, love?”

“Yes,” Nancy agreed, leaning in to peck Ryan on the cheek. “Allons-y.”

Ryan audibly gulped back another burp, frowning and peering curiously at Nancy as they slowly moved to tidy everything up. “Why do you know allons-y?”

Nancy shrugged again, gently resting the wine bottle and glasses inside the picnic basket. “Doctor Who reference.”

___

And to just quickly mention Charlie and Shayne’s first Valentine’s; I believe it’d be low-key, if they got to see each other at all. Their graduation exams are coming up soon and they’re still living far away from each other. Plus I haven’t even worked out at what point they’re “officially” going to be dating lol my timeline is currently one whole mess.

[izcana]

All I See Is Stars

Inspired by Instinct by Delia_Maguire. In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the quoteonlyprompts collection.

Prompt: "Please, just leave me. I don't want you to see me like this!"

Just a cute (at least, I hope so) nightmare hurt/comfort in Beacon Hills and Thominho. Minho's a werewolf. Thominho Week Prompt Day 6: Softness/comfort

This is written to Dream It Possible and it is linked below. Title is from Dream it Possible.

***

"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am with I am with you." - Roy Croft

Minho stopped finding anything peculiar ages ago. Huh. "Peculiar". Sounds like something his Grandma (if he had one, that is) would say. Maybe Thomas was rubbing off him too much?

Anyway, as Minho was saying, he stopped finding anything weird ages ago, ever since Thomas came to the Glade and his "inner wolf" (blame Hale with his "philosophy" junk) urged him to nibble Thomas around in places he probably shouldn't, to lick him all over with his tongue, and to bite him until he was bruised. Bad Wolfy. There was also something about "mate", "mark", and "knot". Nope, Minho was totally not thinking inappropriate thoughts about his best friend...nope...

Before Thomas came to the glade, Minho had always thought of himself as straight. There was no question before Thomas, the stupid human that just had to crawl his way into Minho's heart and ruining his heterosexuality forever because Minho could not imagine being with anyone that wasn't Thomas. Thomas, who was stupid to the point that he would disregard his safety. Thomas, the boy who worked with WICKED, the organisation that put Minho and the others in the maze (yes, Minho had forgiven Thomas for that, but he was willing to bet that Wolfy heavily influenced that decision. How could Wolfy not be, though? Thomas looked so sad and Minho had to ––– Minho cut that thought off immediately before Wolfy could convince him to take the pretty boy to his bed and mate him ––– shut up, Brain).

All of those qualities should have driven Minho away or at least kept Wolfy at bay. Well, the opposite happened, and Minho fell in love, instead.

It was meant to be, Wolfy said. We're mates and he's mine and –––

Wait, slow down, Wolfy. One issue here. Apparently, Wolfy had no qualms about the consent and whether his mate wanted him, but he was pretty sure that maybe, just maybe, Thomas did. Okay, maybe he wasn't that sure, but he was at least 85% sure, or maybe 40%. Fine, scratch that; Minho was embarrassed to say, as a werewolf (who could literally smell arousal!), he didn't know.

Ugh, Thomas was probably straight, anyway. Think of Brenda and Teresa, an annoying part of Minho's brain decided to remind him. Not to mention the other girls and boys who followed Thomas around, drooling after him...Obviously, Minho's wolf complained. Thomas is so perfect! His perfect Bambi eyes and his alluring smell and ––– Can't you resist for one minute, Wolf-of-Minho?

As Derek (the creepy psycho wolf with a mate who happened to be Thomas' twin, but no one's mentioning that) said, it was "perfectly normal", but last time Minho checked, "perfectly normal" people didn't lick their boyfriends (and mates? No, shut up, Werewolf-Minho) all over. Then again, that might be because "perfectly normal" people weren't all werewolves, either. Gotta say, being a were is pretty awesome most of the time (let's just pretend Minho doesn't dream of using his werewolf skills to prove that he was the most amazing mate for Thomas and to prove to Thomas that he should totally pick Minho), but when it comes to dating, Minho didn't really fit into the "norm".

Not that much of their life was "normal", anyway.

––––––––––––––––––––

For instance, now.

Minho heard a moan come from the next room (perks of werewolf hearing). He would have been happy about it (um...bad Wolf, do you know how wrong that sounds? "But he's my mate!") except the cute moan of pain wasn't what Minho was going for (when–––no, IF he mates Thomas). Minho scampered off the bed, rushing to his mate – no, friend!'s side. "Tom?" Minho murmured, tucking a piece of unruly hair behind his ear.  

The owner of those chocolate tuffs whimpered again. His eyes flew open and he let out a sob, tensing in Minho's arms. "Hey, hey," he whispered, holding his palms up. "It's me, Minho."

"Minho?" Thomas inquired, his voice drunken from slumber. "What are-what are you d-doing here?"

Minho huffed, settling for a kiss on the forehead and blankets. Hey, it's better than Wolfy's suggestion of bundling Thomas up in blankets, licking him in the face (maybe just a couple of marks to remind others who he belongs to?) and then cuddling in his wolf form wrapped around Thomas' too bony hips. Food! Protect! Mate! Nope, bad idea. Forget it, it's not happening. "To seduce you," he deadpanned.

Thomas' face stretched into a brief smile and he giggled. Noted, Thomas didn't even know he was a werewolf...yet. Little did the innocent (and cute, and amazing, and ––– please, not now!), naive boy know...it was rather close, but Wolfy's plan of "seduction" involved a lot more licking, cuddling, and marking ("and mating," Minho's wolf supplied helpfully).

"Actually, though," Thomas asked, grimacing when he sat up. "Why are you here?" He sounded much more awake now.

Minho lowered Thomas back onto the bed gently, still wrapped in the blankets. He must be freezing his pony-loving ("I do love ponies") butt off.

Honestly, the answer closest to the truth would have been the seducing klunk and also "to be a good mate", but something told him that Thomas wouldn't believe it. Come on! He practically (scratch that) actually declared his love in Denver, and his mate (FRIEND!) snickered! He shucking snickered! Unless Minho's (self-proclaimed) "mate" found joy in breaking his heart (in which case, Minho must be a masochist, then...), Thomas actually didn't know! That's oblivious to another level (like...the tenth power or something?)

Show him, Wolfy yelled greedily. Show him how loved he is!

So, Minho did and hoped that Thomas will catch on one day.

"Because you were having a nightmare," Minho commented flatly. He regretted it when Thomas' scent went from natural happiness to anxiety and guilt.

"I'm sorry," Thomas murmured; he looked like he was about to disintegrate into tears. "Please, just leave! I-I...don't want y-you to-to..." Thomas took a great heaving breath, and Minho caught the tears that pooled at his eyes. It was unfair how Thomas could look pretty even when crying – it ran an arrow straight through Minho.

"It's okay, Sleeping Beauty," Minho teased him, berating himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

He was going to find out, wasn't he?...No. Thomas' composure cracked a little, and he beamed. An ignition of scents splattered Minho's sensations, the most distinguished ones being happiness, calm, and another sweeter scent that Minho couldn't place. Who needs oxygen?

"Thanks," Thomas said, giving a tired but sweet smile. "I'm not as pretty as Sleeping Beauty, though."

You're prettier, Minho's brain was prompting, but what came out of Minho's mouth was: "You're one ugly shank, indeed."

Thomas didn't seem to take offence to that, though his smile dimmed slightly. "Thanks," he repeated.

"Hey," Minho whispered. "You should sleep."

Thomas worried his lip in between his teeth. "I –––"

Minho could detect the underlying fear in Thomas' stance and smell. "It's okay to be scared," he implored softly. "You can say you're scared." He hoped that Thomas didn't question why Minho knew he was scared.

"Okay, I'm afraid. I think...I think I'm afraid of the dark?" Thomas confessed. His lip was bleeding slightly, now. Minho's thumb shot up to wipe the little smudge away.

He smelt ashamed, afraid, sad, embarrassed. Minho swiped at the blood on Thomas' lip tenderly, and (thank you supernatural hearing) Thomas' breath hitched. "There's no need to be ashamed of it, Tom; I'm afraid of the dark, too," Minho admitted. It was the first time he told anyone. "I can stay." Granted, he was taking a huge leap, here. He couldn't be sure that's what his mate (oh well, we can pretend, right?) wanted, and he wanted to abide by his mate's wishes and make him happy.

His wolf whined. "I can stay," he repeated, caressing his thumb on Thomas' delicate, scarred knuckles. Minho recognised some of them being from Griever attacks and the Scorch.

He remembered when he and Thomas drove the Grievers off the Cliff, and when Thomas curled up into a ball and burst into tears. That's when Minho's werewolf brain first started to scream "Mate! Sad! Comfort!" (or something like that. Apparently, Minho's wolf wasn't very linguistic). It happened again later when Thomas got stung. The human had been bruised badly, and Minho ran his fingers over the milky skin of his wrist, scenting him. Just for the sake of it, of course (it's not like Grievers could smell a werewolf claim and be warned to back off on his mate).

The next time was in the bunkers. WICKED had starved them, and Minho, with his werewolf traits, was able to chain the roaring demands within him that called for food. That was not to mention he didn't have his own troubles, though. His werewolf instincts, although kept him from starvation, was urging him to tear off the head of the nearest Glader and feed him to his less resilient mate. Minho almost bit off Newt's head when he came to speak with him.

When WICKED finally let them have some food, he had polished off a slice of pie first, stuffing it in his mouth while sprinting as fast as he could to Thomas. When he got there, the paler than usual boy was curled up in a lower bunk, his arm wound around his stomach. His heartbeat was slow...too slow... His wolf whined with sorrow at the almost gone flutters of his mate. When Thomas finally woke up, Minho had almost cried in relief, but that wouldn't have done for his tough image, would it?

Countless times over, he and Thomas had saved themselves in the Scorch and after. They had saved each other from death. They had made it.

However, old habits died hard. Minho would never stop looking after his fragile mate.

"Stay, please, Min?" Thomas asked, his eyes watering.

"Okay," Minho grinned, settling into the blankets. He puffed out his chest when Thomas let out a squeak and that overwhelmingly sweet scent washed over him again. "Good night," Minho whispered to the younger boy, spooning him with their legs tangled.

Thomas didn't seem to mind. The sweet scent that wasn't happiness (it almost smelt better) stayed, though it got slightly dimmer as he went to sleep.

"Good night." Minho let out a breath in the darkness, his voice passing to no one. "I love you," he added.

The small boy in his arms did not stir, but breathed softly against Minho's arm, instead.

***

Dream It Possible - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAu4YGc0jhA&ab_channel=MVWithLyrics

[raendown]

My final entry for @narutorarepairweek! Today’s prompt is free day and I took the opportunity to drag an old WIP out of the closet at last. 

Pairing: TobiramaKagami Rated: E Chapter: 1/4 Word count: 3181 Summary: It shouldn't be so surprising that it's Kagami who makes the opening move, asking for so little when he desires so much. From there their relationship unfolds in a tapestry of firsts they've both been waiting to experience.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Senpō

Kagami wasn’t sure how exactly he’d gotten the man to agree. Most likely he had worded it in such a way that Tobirama hadn’t really thought he was serious or maybe the older man was simply humoring him on the assumption that he would never actually win their little bet. Whatever it was, the fact remained Tobirama had agreed over a round of shogi that on the day Kagami beat him in a game he would accompany his one-time student on a date. Not just any old friends-hanging-out-together date either, a proper romantic date with romantic implications and possibly a few instances of actual romantic overtures. If he was lucky. 

There was something that Kagami had realized, however, that he didn’t think his friend had. While that in itself was a rare thing to say and should have filled him with triumph, he still found himself much more excited for the promised rewards than for the accomplishment of coming out on top of an agreement with one of the slipperiest people he had ever known. That more than anything would have made it obvious how important this was to him if he were bold enough to admit it to anyone. Just like any other Uchiha, he was quite fond of outsmarting someone notably smarter than him. 

Armed with this juicy little secret up his sleeve, Kagami made his way through the busy Hokage Tower with a smile on his lips and a bounce in his step. When he knocked on Tobirama's office door he knew very well that it was merely a formality. The man had definitely felt him coming before he’d even set foot inside the tower, had probably been tracking his staggered progress through the hallways and smirking in amusement each time he stopped to talk to someone. Still, Kagami didn’t presume to enter the other’s space until a deep voice which sent familiar shivers down his spine called out for him to do so. 

As offices go, Tobirama’s was fairly typical. It hadn’t changed much over the last few years while peace settled deeper and deeper in to the bones of the village. His bookshelves were perhaps a bit more full and the small couch against one wall was perhaps a bit more well used but he still sat behind the same old desk, pushed up close to the same old window where the man could stick his head outside and holler up at his brother one floor above. 

Hokage he might be but there was nothing which motivated Senju Hashirama more than fear of his younger sibling’s waspish temper. 

In keeping with a pattern they had been playing out since the first year they trained together, Tobirama pretended to ignore him at first, appearing as though he had lost himself in the papers strewn about his desk. He kept his head down while Kagami wandered the edges of the room fiddling with this or that until finally the older man deigned to look up at him with one brow raised. 

“Did you need something?” The twitch of his lips belied the irritation he pretended to affect. Kagami grinned brightly. 

“I came to challenge you to a game,” he said. 

“Hm. Again?” 

“As many times as it takes!” 

Kagami took it as encouragement when all Tobirama did was huff out what passed for a laugh when it came to him and shake his head, one arm gesturing for the board still neatly packed with all its pieces and set in the same spot as always. He didn’t need any further words to hurry across soft carpet and pull out the shogi board, hauling it over to the desk while his friend cleared some space for them to play. A grin sat wide and open on his face as he shook the wooden pieces out of their holding bag and began to set them up. 

“You’re looking particularly cheerful today. Feeling confident?” 

“I’ve got something up my sleeve that you won’t expect for sure!” Kagami chirped. Tobirama graced him with an indulgent nod. “Today’s the day! And I mean it this time! No backing out at the last minute either!”

“We made an agreement, did we not? I am a man of my word after all.” 

The younger only smirked as he spun the board to offer Tobirama the first move. Usually he was offered the advantage of moving first but today he was confident that no matter what happened, he was going to leave this office a winner. Today was the day he earned himself a bona fide date with Senju Tobirama. 

As they usually turned out, the match wasn’t a particularly long one. Kagami wasn’t a stupid person by any long stretch but there were few outside the Nara who could hope to match this man’s intellect and shogi had always been one of Tobirama’s favorite leisure activities. It came as no shock when Kagami was once again thoroughly trounced without any hope of winning only halfway through the game. Yet it appeared to shock Tobirama when he retained his cheerful smile without a single hint of faltering. Piece by piece his defeat grew closer and yet, even as he was finally declared the loser of this round, Kagami did nothing but sit quietly and do his best imitation of sunshine. 

Clearly confused, Tobirama sat back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. 

“Would you like a second game to try again?” he ventured, obviously trying to feel out what kind of situation was going on here. Kagami hummed, stroking dramatically at his chin. 

“I dunno. You’ll probably beat me again.”

“Yes, true.” Tobirama’s face scrunched together in irritation. “But if you leave then it’ll take me longer to figure out what you’re up to.” He didn’t look too impressed when his one-time student laughed at him. 

“Alright, how about this? Roshambo. If you win I’ll stay.”

“Odd choice but fair.” 

Leaning forward, he set one palm flat one the desk and raised the other in a fist, eyeing the younger man somewhat challengingly. Kagami happily took that challenge. He was barely holding in a snicker while he made his way back over to the desk to hold out his own fist, ready for battle, as it were. 

Together they counted to three and bobbed their hands three times – only to both choose rock. On the second try they both chose scissors. Kagami laughed and said they could try just one more time, biting his lip to keep the triumphant laughter at bay. He knew Tobirama better than anyone else and in all likeliness the man had never bothered to note his own habits during the rare game of roshambo someone might convince him to take part in. 

On the third round Tobirama chose paper, the only option he hadn’t chosen yet and thereby unconsciously completing the set in his mind. Knowing he would do so allowed Kagami to make the smart decision and choose scissors again to come out the winner. Upon presenting their choices he reached over and pretended to snip Tobirama’s fingers with his own, grinning so wide it made the muscles in his cheeks hurt.

“I win,” he breathed. “One date, please.” 

“What?” Tobirama blinked at him, nonplussed. Kagami cleared his throat.

“You agreed that if I won a game against you we could go on one date. But you never specified at the time that the game had to be shogi so by the wording of our original agreement…I win. And you owe me one date. Does tomorrow work for you?”

It took a moment for Tobirama to process that but when he did he look stunned as he realized that it was true. “Well I’ll be damned. You’re right; I never did specify that it had to be shogi. Well done Kagami. Excellently played.”

“So…?”

“Tomorrow does indeed work for me. Or if you prefer, I am also available tonight.” He smiled ever so gently, giving Kagami a very serious case of weak knees.

“Yeah! A-alright! Tonight is good too! Awesome!” Swallowing around the nervous lump which had just appeared in his throat, Kagami held fast to his suddenly wobbling smile. “I really thought I’d have more time to prepare myself but – okay! Yeah!”

“Prepare yourself? For what?”

“Nothing! See you tonight!” 

Whirling on his heel, Kagami dashed out of the room and made it halfway down the stairs before he had to turn around and creep back up, sheepishly peeking his head around the door to see Tobirama still standing there with an amused expression. 

“You may pick me up from my home at six o’clock.”

“Right!” 

And with that he took off down the hall once more.

The next several hours were a blur for the young man. If asked he would not have been able to say what he had done with his day, only that he’d had Tobirama on his mind the entire time and his stomach had been a constantly churning mess of nerves and excitement. It was finally happening. Tonight he would have his shot. He’d been waiting for this for so long that he could hardly believe it was actually happening. 

When he checked the clock and noticed that it was getting a bit late Kagami supposed he must have gotten at least most of his duties done that day considering Koharu hadn’t tracked him down for another lecture about responsibility. He wasn’t really irresponsible, only forgetful. Actually, he’d always thought that he and Tobirama would balance each other rather nicely in that respect; Tobirama would help him stay more focused when it was appropriate while he was one of the few people able to convince the older man to take a break every so often. 

In fact, there were a lot of ways Kagami thought they might complement each other and he had every intention of trying to work all of them in to their dinner conversation that evening.

At six o’clock sharp he was standing on Tobirama’s doorstep in a clean, wrinkle-free yukata which his poor exasperated aunt had assured him brought out the faint hints of blue in his typical blue-black hair. With a steadying breath in and out – then another because the first didn’t help – Kagami rapped three times on the door before him and did his best not to look like he was about to faint. He almost did anyway when Tobirama answered the door in a simple yukata of the softest gray edged with little silver rain droplets that gave his skin a luminescent glow. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “You – am I allowed to tell you that you look amazing?”

“Compliments are always appreciated,” Tobirama replied easily as he breezed down the front steps, leaving Kagami to scramble after him. 

“Good. Yeah. Cause you look amazing. Well, I mean, you always do but you’re usually not dressed like this and it’s nice to see you so casual every once in a while, you know? So I think you look extra good and now I’m going to stop talking.” His cheeks felt like he’d swallowed one of his own grand fireballs. He really thought he would make it longer than ten stupid seconds before embarrassing himself like this. 

Thankfully Tobirama was good enough to brush his nattering idiocy aside as easily as always. “I’m pleased you think so. And might I add that you look rather nice yourself in that color.”

Kagami very much hoped the helpless whine he made at that comment went unheard. 

Dinner was, in a word, amazing. He’d never had Tobirama’s attention to himself like this for so long. Usually one of their other former teammates accompanied them or they saw each other briefly at the tower before work sent them their separate ways. Playing shogi in the office had become the only time they shared alone but it was usually no more than an hour due to Tobirama’s busy schedule. Kagami was thrilled when they finally left the restaurant and his date suggested a walk through a nearby park, ensuring that he would have just a little more time to live in this transient dream-come-true. 

At the park they wandered around the edge of the large pond three times and weaved around each individual tree at least twice, their conversation ranging from Tobirama’s latest research to whether or not Kagami’s neighbor might be a retired assassin from Kiri in disguise. It was absolutely amazing, more than he could have ever dreamed of, and yet by the time he found himself escorting the other back through the wide avenues of the Senju district Kagami couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. He could spend weeks on end in this man’s presence and when the time came to part he would still beg for just five more minutes.

They paused at the bottom of the three stairs which would take Tobirama back to his home, facing each other in silence for a few heartbeats until the older man tilted his head to one side with a curious furrowing of his brow.

“I did have fun tonight, if that was your worry.”

“Oh! No, sorry. I don’t mean to spoil it all, I was just, um, a little sad that it’s over now.”

“What do you mean ‘over now’?” 

Kagami shifted his weight, dropping his eyes to watch his hands fiddle with each other. “Nothing. Doesn’t everyone wish every good date could last forever?”

“I’m flattered you consider me so.” There was humor in Tobirama’s voice but he couldn’t bring himself to look up to see it until the man continued. “Doesn’t a good date usually end with a kiss?”

“Please don’t make fun of me,” Kagami said, hoping his voice would behave and not wobble. 

His companion blinked, clearly startled.

“Make fun of you? What gave you the impression I was making fun of you in any way?”

“I know this was a pity date. You don’t actually think of me this way. And that’s okay! Really! I’m grateful that you humored me; but I know that you didn’t think I would ever actually win and you only came because you try to always keep your word. So please don’t make fun of me by pretending. I did have a good time tonight. Just…I’m just sad that it’s over and I have to go back to…you know. How things were before.” Kagami shrugged and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it nervously. 

Obviously Tobirama had been aware of his feelings for a while now but it still went against his instincts to make himself so vulnerable, to open his heart and ask another man to smash it. Tomorrow and the weeks ahead of them promised to be quite awkward as he tried to fit himself back in to that space where he pretended that mere friendship was enough. He couldn’t bring himself to regret any of this, though. Pretending was something he could do on his own with a little imagination. Having the chance to actually glimpse what the reality might be like was an amazing experience, something he would hold on to for a very long time to come. 

Kagami was startled out of his maudlin thoughts by the hand that grasped his chin and wrenched his face up to see the displeased expression on Tobirama’s face. 

“Pity date,” the man snarled dismissively. 

Then suddenly they were kissing, lips hot against his own, devouring, destroying, demanding until it was all Kagami could do to remind his poor heart to continue beating. A whimper escaped him and Tobirama swallowed it, nipping at him to encourage his lips to part and then licking inside to draw out a helpless moan. 

He was gasping for air when they parted, only avoiding embarrassment because it was clear that Tobirama was having a little trouble catching his own breath as well. 

“You kissed me!”

“I did.”

“W-why did you kiss me?” Kagami heard his voice crack but he couldn’t be bothered to worry about it, not when the answer to his question was much more interesting. He dared not move lest the hands framing his face let go and leave him devoid of their warmth.

“Honestly,” Tobirama scoffed. “Why does one person usually kiss another?”

Squirming inside, Kagami said, “Usually because they like each other. But you–!”

“Do you really believe me so cruel as to allow such behavior and then to strip it all away as a joke?”

“Um…”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might actually return your interest?”

“Yes?”

“Ridiculous. And worrisome. I had not realized you believed all of this to be merely a humoring of your desires. Had I known I certainly would have explained myself a long time ago.”

Feeling a little off-balance and possibly also slightly nauseous with so many conflicting emotions, Kagami took a deep breath to ask, “Explain what?” 

Tobirama paused to look closely at him before speaking, the hands still framing his face sliding down the sides of his neck and across his shoulders to squeeze gently. It was a more affectionate gesture than he had ever seen the man grant to anyone besides the Hokage himself – and even then only on very rare occasions. His expression was so gentle it was nearly heartbreaking.

“When I accepted your wager it was not because I was hoping to put you off with an impossible task. In truth I was wary that your interest may not be…entirely genuine. Not to say that I doubted you but I worried that your feelings were the product of misplaced hero worship.” Tobirama pinched his face in to a well-worn look of self-deprecation. “I can admit now that it was not the best method of assuaging my fears but my intention was to gauge your perseverance, to see if you were serious enough to pursue this or if you would lose interest when attaining my affection came with road blocks. It is…within my nature to test things I don’t fully understand.”

“So you were making me work for it just to see if I would?” Kagami summarized. 

“I was trying not to put it in to such crass terms but yes.”

A part of him wanted to be a little offended but the rest of him was already reaching that floaty state of disbelief as he finally came to terms with the impossible: the man he was in love with actually liked him back. 

“Holy crap,” he mumbled. 

“Very eloquent,” Tobirama teased, tucking his head down until they were but a hairsbreadth apart and the proximity stole Kagami’s breath all over again. “Now, I should very much like to kiss you again. I think we’ve both been waiting long enough for this. A reward seems to be in order for such diligent patience.” 

“Gods yes.”

“Charming.” 

His date smirked at him and Kagami’s knees almost folded underneath him. He remained standing only through sheer force of will, eager to taste the older man once again. Tobirama didn’t keep him waiting long. 

[miss-smrxtiee]

The date

Pairing: Beckett Harrington X MC (Ellie)

Book: The Elementalists

Chapter summary:

Beckett and Ellie plan an outing together for Beckett’s surprise.

Author’s note: “It’s here!!! I’m so bored so this was a great way to fill my time!! It’s my first fanfic so if there is any mistakes I’m sorry!! But I hope you enjoy!

Picture from a study date prompt fic, all credits to the owner!!

Ellie wakes up to the chirping of her alarm, the sun shining through her window and onto her tired face, she yawns and lets out a big stretch. It was Sunday, Ellie always loved Sundays, they always felt so peaceful. She looks down from her window to only see a few students roaming around campus at a leisurely pace.

She sighs as she throws the covers on top of themselves and swings her legs over so she is sitting on her bed. All of a sudden Ellie’s phone goes off.

BEEP BEEP

Beck❤️: “good morning beautiful, I know you enjoy sundays so I have a little surprise for you down by the Merfolk lake, if you have plans then don’t bother I just thought it might be a nice outing for the two of us..”

Ellie giggled at the text, if she where talking to him face to face, she knew he would stutter over the invitation with a beet-red blush along his cheeks. She didn’t have any plans that day, and would happily spend time with her boyfriend. She quickly replied back...

Ellie: “Good morning yourself handsome, I don’t have any plans and I’d love to see what you’ve come up with this time 😉”

It took half a second for him to reply:

Beck❤️ “Well then, I’ll pick you up at noon.. don’t eat anything to big before hand though.”

She and Beckett sent a couple more back and forth texts about the date setting and proper attire. Ellie loved when Beckett surprised her with dates, how his cheeks turned bright red whenever she teased him. Yes, they where together and officially an item, but that didn’t make Ellie’s jokes stop, it was her favorite thing, even if Beckett saw it as a flaw.

It was early in the school year and it hadn’t gotten cold at all yet, it may have been chilly in the evenings as the sun went down, but Ellie’s sun-att abilities made her not have to worry about bringing a jacket as long as the sun was still peeking over the horizon.

Ending the peaceful silence she hears loud footsteps coming towards her dorm room...

She braces for the inevitable..

All of a sudden the door swings open and Ellie’s roomie Shreya strides through the door with what seems like an endless supply of dresses and outfits...

“I have arrivedddd!!!” Shreya announces making her way to Ellie’s closet.

“Good morning to you to Shreya” Ellie was used to the interruption in the mornings, it was also quite the show.

Atlas stomps in behind her with her arms crossed over her chest. “Morning, lazy.” She mumbles as she goes to stand out of the way of chaos.

“Morning sis!” Ellie’s says in her familiar cheery tone.

Shreya once again strides over with a winning outfit as the others stand in a pile. She shoves the dress into her hands. “Go, get dressed, I heard the nerd is stealing you away for the afternoon so I’m here to make sure you look like a goddess... not as good as me of course but you get my point!”

Ellie giggles as Shreya shoves Atlas into the common room, herself following so Ellie could change.

She emerges from the room and Shreya squeals in delight. “ Oh.M.Geeeee you look AMAZING!” Shreya says as she jumps up and down with little clapping hands.

Ellie walks over to the mirror and does a small twirl. The sun dress Shreya picked out was indeed amazing. It’s main color was black but it had yellow sunflowers and white lillies all around. It had a low back and the skirt cut right around her lower thigh. She loved it and she new Beckett would too. The dress didn’t come off as formal, it was perfect for a date even though she was still in the dark about what he was planning.

Atlas mumbled something about training and stomps out of the room while Shreya and Ellie talk and laugh while waiting for noon to come.

Beckett’s POV

It’s 7:45 AM when Beckett’s alarm goes off as he stirs awake, he did quite enjoy the mornings but he was extra excited to plan Ellie’s surprise... if she said yes, of course.

After texting her and confirming she would come, he hops right to work making sure everything was perfect. The soul reason he absolutely loved surprising her was because of her reaction. He would always study her features when he showed her what he had planned. It was the highlight of his week getting to spend time with her on the weekends. During Christmas and the Pend Pals solstice trip, he swore an oath to take her on dates every week, sit next to her in class, and bring her to festivals that where held in Penn Square every so often.

They had 4 classes together every single week. And the first days of class where very enjoyable with her by his side...

First week of class...

“Beck you have to slow down!!!” Ellie laughed behind him as he jogged to class.

When he got there, the classroom was empty he smiled victoriously as Ellie came in behind him panting and laughing.

“Beck.. class... doesn’t start... for like... another 30 minutes..” in between pants she was giggling, knowing his intentions for showing up so un religiously early.

“Wellllll...” he strides down the lecture halls small steps and turns around with his arms wide open, gesturing to all the empty seats with a smirk on his face. “Take your pick, beautiful..”

Ellie smiles at the comment. The Beckett she first met was grumpy and always trying to annoy her. So watching as he opened up and was much more enjoyable towards her was truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Well, might as well make a good pick for our first class..”

Laughing, they pick their seats for each class and spend as much time with each other as they could before class inevitably started

Beckett sighs at the memory then looks at the clock and dashed out of his dorm room with his regular Penderghast blazer on to set up his surprise...

Ellie’s POV

What seemed like an eternity Ellie hears a polite knock on her door and walks over to answer.

At first she just peeks her head around the corner teasingly. And sure enough, Beckett stood there with a slight blush dusting his cheeks but a proud smile on his face.

“Your chariot awaits m’lady” he holds out an arm as Ellie walks out from around the door. She could see is breath catch in his throat at the sight of her, a big smirk spreads across her face as she winks at him.

“Well..erm..” he lets out a small cough as a blush creeped up his neck. “You look quite beautiful today Ellie..”

Ellie held back a laugh as she grabbed his arm, the door closing behind her as she pulled Beckett’s arm while turning around to smile at him.

“Come on ya big flatterer we have a whole afternoon waiting for us!”

Beckett chuckled at her enthusiasm and willingly aloud her to take his hand. He gave her a quick kiss before walking beside her hand in hand to their destination...

Thank you for reading! Any feedback is appreciated! If you would like to be removed from tagging let me know!

@chanceisagoodboy @choicesgremlin @choicesstanblog @cryingthnkstochoices @lovemychoices @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @featured @furiouscloddonutpeanut @scgdoeswhat @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @playchoices @princesskennarys @raleighcarrera @ramseyrambles @abookishcreative @ao719 @berrypixeltrash @blackkingliamstan @bloodboundismylife @playallthechoices @endlesssumma @elementalistshoe @enby-ernhardt @ethanramsey4life @drakewalkerfantasy @dumbchoices @zzigortega @nerdy-twin @nazario-sayeed @nazariobae @mrsnazariowritesagain @myhopelessromantic @muscledbuttlahela @jaxsmutsuo @harrington-sinclaire @harringtonishot @griffinshoodie @grapecaseschoices @nomadics-stuff @soheila-1996 once again I’m tagging choices fans but if u would like to be removed/added let me know!

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni Kizuna 04

2019 ー Fashionista [ファッショニスタ]

“Waah, it’s rare for Ryu-chan to say that! How nice~, somehow there’s an amazing feeling of trust! Ryu-chan, you must really like Tsubasa-chan, hehe~ ♪”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for today, Ryuji-kun.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, thanks for bringing me home.’ 

Yuta: ‘Ah, it’s Ryu-chan! Welcome back~. Tsubasa-chan too, hello!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yuta-kun, hello. Well then, I will return now.’ 

Yuta: ‘Eh~? You’re already going back?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I will go back to the office from here.’ 

Yuta: ‘I see, that’s a shame. I thought, if you had time we could eat some sweets together~’ 

Ryuji: ‘Tsubasa didn’t come to play. She doesn’t have time to keep you company.’ 

Yuta: ‘Tch~’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, you didn’t forget to keep tomorrow free for me, right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, it was 10am at Omotesandō*.’ 

Yuta: ‘Ohoho? What’s this talk about?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I made a promise with Tsubasa to go shopping together. I think it’s good to have a different perspective from time to time.’ 

Yuta: ‘I see! Can I go too? I was thinking of wanting to go shopping, you know.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I don’t really mind, what about Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Of course, I am fine with it.’ 

Yuta: ‘Yay, a date with Ryu-chan and Tsubasa-chan! I will boast about it to Kenken!’ 

Ryuji: ‘It’s not a date when there are more than two people. More importantly, don’t be late, okay?’ 

Yuta: ‘Yeーs!’ ___________________

The next day. 

Tsubasa: ‘We are lucky, there are not a lot people.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, like this we can take our time watching. Which shop should we go to first?’ 

Yuta: ‘Should we start with PORTE after all?’ 

Ryuji: ‘That’s good but, I want to find new shops. That’s why I brought Tsubasa along.’ 

Yuta: ‘Oh, I get it! Ryu-chan brought Tsubasa-chan along today as your stylist to choose clothes for you.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I-I am not confident enough to say that….’ 

Ryuji: ‘Geez, have a bit confidence in yourself. If I didn’t think like that, I wouldn’t have asked you in the first place. Even though things may appear this way, it’s why I value Tsubasa’s sense in fashion, right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, thank you very much. I will do my best!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, I hope so ♪’ 

Watching this talk Yuta sees how well the two get along. It is rare for his best friend to speak such nice words, and prompts him to make his own image of their bond. How Yuta words his idea is not to Ryuji’s liking though, they are embarrassing to hear for the shorter male. 

Yuta: ‘Waah, it’s rare for Ryu-chan to say that! How nice~, somehow there’s an amazing feeling of trust! Ryu-chan, you must really like Tsubasa-chan, hehe~ ♪’

Ryuji: ‘W-Why are you talking about this topic? It’s not like that. I just think Tsubasa’s taste is interesting!’

Yuta: ‘Eeh~? Ryu-chan’s not honest at all. Just like Gochin.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah, let’s get going. Come on, Tsubasa, decide on a shop.’  

Tsubasa: ‘Ehm...There is a shop I like, shall we go there?’ __________

Inside the shop Tsubasa suggested. 

Ryuji: ‘Hee...There was a shop like this?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Before, when I passed the shop, I thought the clothes would look good on Ryuji-kun.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, I might like this feeling.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Everything’s cute but… This shirt here, wouldn’t it look good on Yuta?’ 

Yuta: ‘Waah, how stylish!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Right. Although it looks simple, the silhouette is refined and the embroidery on the chest as well is accented, you don’t get bored of it.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I think your impression quite changes with fitting clothes so it seems good to try them on.’ 

Yuta: ‘Hmm…. But can I wear it? I can’t figure out what to wear with handheld clothes.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Hm~....Wait a moment. Tsubasa, did you bring my luggage?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes.’ _______

Ryuji: ‘Is the shape and colour you think of like this? Yuta, you’re wearing a similar one, right. Or, maybe such pattern.’ 

Ryuji: ‘The right one comes close to the usual Yuta. The left one, I think, has a more adult-like feeling.’ 

Yuta: ‘Ooh….! I can somehow imagine it! The left one I barely have, so it takes some courage to combine it….’ 

Ryuji: ‘If you think so, why not try out this challenge? If not, there is no point in coming with me.’ 

Yuta: ‘Ah, I see! Ehehe, unconsciously I…’ _______

Tsubasa: ‘The meaning behind coming with Ryuji-kun….?’  

Yuta: ‘Yes, yes. You see, when you choose yourself, you’ll only buy clothes that are similar to each other, right? That’s why I get Ryu-chan to choose me clothes from to time to time.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘So it was like this….! Indeed, the clothes Ryuji-kun chose may not feel like Yuta-kun’s usual ones. However, it strangely draws out Yuta-kun’s charme. I think, it is a really wonderful combination.’ 

Yuta: ‘Yep! That’s why I unintentionally asked Ryu-chan for it.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I understand this feeling. Such sense, it is something you are born with after all, right….?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I wonder. Perhaps, it’s because I was trained by my sister, I think.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Your sister?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep. That I came to like PORTE’s clothes is also because of my sister, it started when she recommended them to me.’

Ryuji: ‘As you know, when you get older, boys have to wear boyish clothes. This consciousness becomes stronger, right? I thought that I felt kind of constrained and it was boring. My sister said that she will find clothes that I might like, and let me take a look in magazines.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘And that was PORTE, I assume.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Exactly. It was just a special issue, but I fell in love at first sight with the shirts and pants from the opening page and got addicted to them.’

Yuta: ‘Ryu-chan’s big sister really is a stylish lady!’  

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. Since that time I was checking the magazines and overseas collection meticulously…. I was often thinking about what to dress myself with.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘It is lovely somehow to think about the little brother’s matching clothes.’

Ryuji: ‘Hm...It’d have been good if it could be said with this purity.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Eh?’ 

Yuta: ‘Well because, those were his sister’s clothes~’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That means, you were wearing girl’s clothes?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep. That’s where the problem lies, she totally thought I was a dress-up doll.’ 

Yuta: ‘I get you~! I was also used by my sisters.’ 

Ryuji: ‘It’s your destiny with older sisters. Well, in that way, I think that my senses were refined thanks to being surrounded by various clothes regardless of the gender.’  

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, I agree.’ 

Ryuji: ‘....Ok, time to stop with the old stories. Let’s not just talk and slowly go look for clothes for me? Earlier, I found a nice parker. Tsubasa, let’s think about a good combination together.’ ___________________

Tsubasa: ‘ーーRyuji-kun, I am sorry for letting you wait. It is a magazine gravure, but since the details came in I will tell you more about them.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Thanks. You said it’s my solo, is that unchanged?’

Tsubasa: Yes, it won’t be KitaKore’s but Ryuji-kun’s feature, so it looks like. The name of the magazine is 「MY RON JAPAN」, by the way.’ 

Ryuji: Eh,「MY RON JAPAN」.....?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Here is the project plan. For the feature’s subject, they want to make an opening gravure, and an introduction page for Ryuji-kun’s fashion recommendations as the main focus.’

Ryuji: ‘........’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ehm….You seem to have a problem? Please feel free to tell me if you have any concerns.’ 

Ryuji: ‘No, that’s not itーー’ 

To be continued…. _________________________

*Omotesandō: Omotesandō (表参道) is a zelkova tree-lined avenue located in Shibuya and Minato, Tokyo, stretching from the Meiji Shrine entrance to Aoyama-dōri (Aoyama Street), where Omotesandō Station can be found. Omotesandō is known as one of the foremost 'architectural showcase' streets in the world, featuring a multitude of fashion flagship stores within a short distance of each other. [Source: Wikipedia]

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Of Libraries and Ties (1/2)

Summary: Follow up to last month’s Of Comic Books and Sushi. Belle, Neal and Neal’s girlfriend Emma all end up at Gold’s for New Year’s. Belle falls in love with a particular room in Gold’s house, and a good time is had by all. 

Part one written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Books, Tea, Big City, Drive. 

Part two written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Surprise, Lingerie, Bedroom Eyes

Rated: Part one is T, part two will be E

=====

Of Libraries and Ties

Part One

Belle was still having a bit of trouble coming to terms with how small Storybrooke was in comparison to Boston. Ever since she’d come to America in the first place, she’d only ever lived in cities, her father figuring that there would be more opportunities in a big city than in a small town. Even back in Australia, she’d never lived anywhere quite as small as Storybrooke. 

“Are you ok?”

She glanced over at Neal in the driving seat of the little yellow bug. Emma was spark out asleep in the back. They’d decided that it would be more economical to cram everything into Emma’s car and all go up to Maine together, sharing the drive time, rather than all making their own ways to the same place. Andrew had invited them all for New Years - Neal obviously had a standing invitation as his son, Emma was welcome as Neal’s girlfriend, and Belle was welcome as Andrew’s own girlfriend.

It had taken Neal a while to get to grips with the idea of his roommate and his dad being together. It had taken Belle a little while to accept the fact that she was dating her roommate’s dad. Still, everything seemed to have worked out for the best, even if the relationship was still somewhat long-distance whilst Belle was still in college. She thought that they had the potential to go the distance, and she now knew Andrew enough to be assured that she wasn’t simply a flash in the pan, midlife crisis fling. 

“Yeah,” she said eventually, in answer to Neal’s question. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never been anywhere like this before.”

“That’s not the only thing though, is it?” Neal had slowed the bug to a crawl to comply with the town’s speed limits. “Come on, you can tell me. I’m your best friend.”

“Yes, and your dad is also my boyfriend. I think that there might be a conflict of interest somewhere along the line here.”

“Hey, as long as you never, ever talk about sex in my earshot, we’ll be fine.” Neal grinned. “So, it’s something about Dad that’s getting you down?”

“Not getting me down, per se. It’s just that every other time we’ve seen each other, we’ve been in Boston. We’ve been in my comfort zone, so to speak. Now we’re in his. In his house, no less. It feels… strange.”

“Maybe. But think about it this way. Dad’s lived in that house for over twenty years, so it’s got a lot of him in it. You’ll learn a lot more about him in Storybrooke than you ever could in Boston.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It would definitely be nice to get a first-hand glimpse of Andrew’s life, rather than having to imagine it all for herself as they talked about it. And after all, he had seen her home and how she lived. It was only fair that she should get the same kind of insight into his own life. 

“Ok, we’re here.” Neal pulled into the drive of a very impressively pink house on the outskirts of the town. 

“Your dad’s house is pink.” Emma had woken up and was staring out of the windscreen at the house, rubbing her eyes. “Is your dad’s house pink? Or am I still dreaming?”

“No, the house is definitely pink,” Neal said cheerily. He waved to his dad, who had stepped out onto the porch to greet them. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze. I hope it doesn’t snow. Not that being snowed in at Dad’s is necessarily a bad thing, but I left all my coursework in Boston and it’s due next week.”

“Is Storybrooke famous for snow?”

“Not really, we’re too near the coast. As in, literally on it. But when it comes, it comes with a vengeance.”

They manhandled all the luggage out of the car and into the blessed warmth of the house. Emma and Neal immediately took off up the stairs to dump their stuff in Neal’s room, leaving Andrew and Belle standing under the mistletoe in the hall. He leaned in, kissing her lips softly, and Belle dropped her bag to hook her arms around his neck and pull him in closer for a deeper kiss. He was smiling as she broke away, his eyes bright and a little shy. Belle saw then that he was feeling all the same nervousness about welcoming her into his home as she was feeling about visiting him in it.

“I didn’t know where you would want to sleep,” he said eventually. “The spare bed is made up ready for you if you would prefer, but I’d really like it if you stayed with me.”

Belle kissed him again. “Of course I’d like to stay with you.”

“I’d hoped you would. I just didn’t know if you’d be worried about traumatising Neal or something.”

Belle snorted. “Hey, he’s got his own girlfriend to traumatise us with, he can’t talk.” She grinned. “Why don’t you give me a tour of the house?”

Andrew gave a soft huff of laughter. “Why not indeed. Without meaning to sound in the least bit presumptuous, we can start in my room so you can park your bag.”

Andrew’s room was gorgeous, all dark woods and jewel-like colours, and Belle had to admit that the space suited him perfectly. She ran her hands over the intricately carved headboard, heat beginning to rise in her face as she imagined all the wonderful uses that it could be put to later. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “It’s very you. This is the kind of place that I can always picture you in.”

“I’m glad you like it.” There was no mistaking the quiet pride in his voice. “But there’s another room that I think you’ll like even more.”

Belle held out a hand to him. “Lead on, McGold.”

He snorted at the throwback to their first date together in Boston, back before they had really known that they were dating, but he nonetheless took her hand and guided her into the next room. It had originally begun life as a small box bedroom, but now, the amount of floor to ceiling bookcases in it meant that the only furniture it had room for was an old leather armchair and an antique end table. 

“It’s not exactly a library like you’re used to, but it’s good enough, I think.”

“Oh Andrew, it’s perfect. I’d love a room like this in my own place.”

She slipped her arms around his middle and rested her chin against his shoulder. It was nice to be dating a guy who didn’t tower over her for once. It was even nicer that he remembered how much she liked books and had known how much she’d like this room. Despite their age difference and the undeniable fact that he was Neal’s dad, Belle felt that Andrew was far better suited to her than some of her exes. 

“Dad, what’s for dinner?”

Belle felt Andrew’s sigh, but she didn’t pull away from him as he replied. 

“Neal, it’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I know, but we’ve had a long drive from Boston. We’re starving!”

“There’s a box of Granny’s peanut butter cookies in the kitchen.”

“Yes! Thanks Dad!”

Andrew always brought a steady supply of the mysterious Granny’s cookies with him whenever he visited Boston, and Belle’s stomach gave an aptly timed growl. Andrew chuckled. 

“Come on, before Neal and Emma finish them all. We can have the rest of the tour later.”

X

Belle curled up in the leather chair under her blanket, lost in Dickens’ prose. Dinner had turned out to be chicken chasseur, and now Emma and Neal had volunteered to do the dishes whilst Andrew made a couple of last-minute phone calls. Although, given the amount of hilarity that Belle could hear coming from the kitchen, she felt justified in wondering if they were actually creating more mess than they were cleaning up. 

“I thought I might find you in here.”

She looked up to see Andrew standing in the doorway, a mug in each hand. “Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

He placed the mug down beside her and made to leave the room, but Belle caught his arm. “Hey, stay. I’m sure that there’s room in this chair for two. Neither of us are very big, after all.”

Andrew smiled. “All right.”

Belle got up to allow him to sit down, then she scrambled up onto his lap, tucking the blanket back in around them both. 

“There, this is perfect. Good books, good tea, good company. I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening, personally.”

“No.” Andrew took a sip from his own mug. “No, I think you’re right there.”

“The only thing that would make this better is if we had a roaring fire and a cat stretched out in front of it.”

“I’m allergic to cats. How about a dog?”

“A dog’s good too. One of those big shaggy ones that just lies there like a rug. A retriever or St Bernard.”

“We had a collie retriever cross when Neal was younger. Looked like a collie but bigger. And hairier. She was the most docile pushover ever.”

Belle laughed at the image. “What was her name?”

“Tiff. Well, Tiffany. She looked like she was wearing a little black dress, like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

Belle thought about the scene, of Andrew and a big dog and a small child. She could see it easily. What was more concerning was how easily she could see herself as part of the picture as well. She shook her head; she was only twenty-two, she wasn’t ready to be thinking that long-term yet, and she knew that Andrew respected that. She loved what they had together, and she hoped that it would last, but the future was very big and very long. 

She glanced over to the window where the first few flakes of snow were beginning to come down. 

“Neal’s going to be pissed.”

“What?” Andrew followed her sight line. “Oh, yes. He never did like snow all that much.”

They watched it drifting for a while until Belle got up to close the curtains, keeping them safe and snug. The massed hilarity from the kitchen appeared to have finally ceased. 

“Shall we go down and join them?” Andrew asked. Belle’s response was to settle back down onto his lap. 

“Nah. Let them have some time to themselves too. I like it here like this, just you and me.”

“I like it too.” Andrew paused. “You know, you’re always welcome here without Neal. You don’t have to wait until he comes to visit.”

“I know. That’s good. I think it would be a bit awkward otherwise.”

“I’m sorry if we’ve made things weird between you and Neal.”

Belle shrugged. “It was weird for about a week, but then we got over it. We’ll always be friends. I know too many of his secrets for us not to be.”

“Well, that makes two of us. Together we’re invincible.”

Belle laughed and leaned in to kiss him. Andrew accepted her readily, pulling her in close beneath the blanket. They might not know exactly where they were going in the future, but that didn’t matter. They were happy in the present. It was the middle of the Christmas season, and they were going to enjoy themselves without a care. 

Belle kissed Andrew again, never wanting to let go. This New Year’s was going to be great. 

[myownpersonaldemons]

Self-Tober Prompt 15

Prompt: Soul

Gaster/Reader

Short n’sweet *chefs kiss*

Souls.

Turns out they weren’t just a figurative thing as so many had thought, but an actual thing that was cumulative of your entire being. It was rare that any human ever saw theirs, but it was becoming less so. You, for one, had seen your SOUL. Hard not to when your husband was a monster who was fascinated by human SOULs. Of course, he never experimented on your SOUL nor did he ever ask to do so. He got all the funding at the University to research all about SOULs and everything else he wanted to do.

After all, it was hard to refuse funding to the world’s greatest mind…and possibly oldest mind.

That still hit you sometimes, that you were literally married to basically an ancient eldritch monster. A monster that many of your old teammates at the University had been afraid of at first.

Windings Gaster was pulled from the Void by Sans and your team at the university. It had been a big shock that it had actually worked, and a few of the teammates had fled the room in fright even though no monster had ever shown violent tendencies. Then again…when Gaster had first left the Void, he was not all pulled together. There was black goo that seeped from his bones and laid over his form as if a cloak, he had a painful grimace that was almost a smile on his face, and he…almost melted at the feeling of gravity.

Well, he had, just kind of slowly shrank into the ground and the goo spread.

It took him a while to be able to shake off the goo, stand straight, and have a different expression other than pain on his face. Each step of the way Sans and you had helped him through it with all the research that had been done on SOULs. His SOUL was fragmented still but you could see evidence in small wisps of magic attempting to rebind his SOUL back together.

Sans took him to re-meet Papyrus, and the moment he came back and Sans showed you Gaster’s SOUL readings, you knew that Gaster would make a full recovery. No matter how many years it would take him.

It actually came as a surprise to you how quickly Gaster recovered once he moved in with Papyrus and Sans. A weekend had past and the next Monday as you were sipping coffee and going over your notes to refresh your mind, he walked into the lab with Sans…in a suit! You were floored by the change in the skeleton as well. He no longer was  the short, goopy skeleton who seemed to melt slightly if you smiled at him too warmly, as if it heated up the black goo.

He was incredibly tall compared to you, thin too. It made you start to wonder why Sans was so short instead of wondering why Papyrus was so tall compared to their father. The face that was cracked and splintered from various points in his life now freely smiled, frowned, scowled, or smirked during conversations.

Gaster spoke in hands, and not the typical sign language that you were used to seeing. His voice was silent but still seemed to permeate through your skull in an eerie way but he could not read your thoughts.

You remembered the first time he had flirted with you, it was so bad that you hadn’t even realized that he was. Not…that you normally realized people were flirting with you, but you extra didn’t notice. Actually, you had been focused on your work so you had just kinda hummed in response and then started talking to Sans about your findings.

The first time you had flirted back, he somehow seemed to melt again. You had freaked out thinking that his SOUL had reverted but he had said, “no, my dear, the void is a part of me forever. I simply learned to control it.”

My dear.

First time he called you that but never the last.

After a while it felt like you were the one to begin melting whenever he complimented you or said something stupidly sweet. He encouraged your own research projects, and never made you feel like an idiot if he knew something you didn’t. It was always a conversation or debate with him, and he never talked down to you, which was a nice change of pace from some of your coworkers.

It wasn’t even either of you to ask the other out. Papyrus had invited you over to their place for dinner and then he and Sans mysteriously had to go and do something VERY important, immediately, and no neither of you could help. Though, he was not very subtle about attempting to get you two to treat the dinner as a date. Considering that the dining room was lit with candles, and there were rose petals everywhere.

You and Gaster had taken it in stride, joking about it, but by the end of the night both of you were treating it like it was a date. He even walked you to your car and kissed your freaking hand like the gentleman he was.

You had blushed, stammered, gotten into your car and let out a happy squeal. Which he could hear, and gently teased you about it the next time you saw him.

Gaster had proposed to you after you had successfully gotten funding by yourself for a project. That hadn’t happened before, and you had been over the moon with excitement…until you realized that it was indeed a project that you were heading and you’d either succeed or you’d fail…and if you failed you just wasted University money and it was a whole thing including tears and worrying that you should’ve waited a few more years until you had done more research and that maybe you would never be able to lead a team, as well as Sans or Gaster, were able to.

He had merely listened to your rant, giving gentle encouragement or disapproval to your negative statements before sitting you down and telling you, “Your worries are unfounded, but I will not discredit your feelings as they are a part of who you are. However, you are also intelligent and enthusiastic, and your work reflects that tremendously. You have been wanting this for longer than I have known you, and you will lead your team amazingly. Plus, I have already calculated your chances of successfully completing this project and the odds are incredibly in your favour.”

You gave him a look, “would you tell me if the odds weren’t in my favour?”

He looked at you for a long moment, head tilted ever so slightly, before he nodded. “Yes, but I would have told you before and said that my calculations are based upon hypotheticals as I cannot predict the future.”

“But because they’re in my favour, you can predict the future?” you teased, and he smirked.

“Of course, I am very brilliant after all,” he squeezed your hands, “and so is my datemate.”

You had leaned forward and smooched his cheekbone.

“Though…there is one question that I am still attempting to solve, if you could help me?” he said, gesturing towards  his study. You frowned slightly but nodded. That was strange for him to ask someone to help him solve something, normally he’d just sit and ponder forever over one question. Not that he didn’t trust others brains, but he was just the kind of person who preferred to stretch his own mind to the limit. If he didn’t get the question, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to.

But! There was always the chance that he’d been studying it for too long and was merely missing a step or two.

So, you followed him in.

You studied the chalkboard before glancing over at him, “okay? Uh…why don’t you get this?”

“I need a second opinion,” he said simply, gesturing to the chalkboard.

You gave him a look, this was easy shit…but you solved it anyways for him…

“Okay??” you said stepping back and looking over at him, “Dings you okay?”

He gave you a whithered look at the nickname, but he then double-checked the problem quickly and then gave a fake surprised gasp. “Oh! No! Sorry, my dear, this was the wrong side.”

“Okay, seriously. You never make mistakes like this, are you okay???” you had asked, becoming concerned.

He ushered you back a step before flipping the blackboard around.

“This is the question I need help with,” he gestured towards the blackboard.

Will You Marry Me?

Your heart jumped into your throat, and you remember distinctly calling him the biggest fucking dork you’d ever met before you threw yourself at your datemate turned fiancé.

The next day, Sans had approached you during work and had chuckled and said, “ya know, i asked you to help restore his SOUL, not fall for it.”

[hermannsthumb]

Hi! it's me again, the person who named their cat after Newton. Just wanted to share a thing that happened today I let him out and like 20 min later an older gentleman calls me to say that my dumbass of a kitten had followed him home. I had to drive over there to get him (he was fine btw, the man was really nice and even gave him some food). But like, newmann au where Hermanns cat runs away and attractive stranger Newt takes care of the kitten until Hermann comes to get him.

Anonymous said: i hc that 1 of many reasons hermann loves cats is bc they're like tiny lil mathematicians!! calculating angles n trajectory before they jump, evaluating the way things move etc. no-kaiju au hermann has 2 clever cats n finds out that newt loves cats too, so they kind of hook on to that as a small talk prompt so they don't kill each other. but one day herms has to drop smth off @ newts n finds out his cat is The Most Stupid Orange Boy Ever bc like what did he expect. ofc he loves them both anyway.

i loved both of these messages so much and i love newt and hermann and cats so im....making a little ficlet combining the two (with some stretching of the anon message)...this is SO hallmark channel original its atrocious

Hermann’s never been the type for pets, not even when he was a child. Nor has he ever been the type for caring for really any living thing. He’s not the nurturing type. He had a small terrarium with a turtle as a child (a birthday gift from a relative who’s long dead at this point) and kept a houseplant for a month (a housewarming gift from an overenthusiastic neighbor in the flat next door), but his sister claimed ownership of the turtle when he went off for university and he hasn’t seen it since, and the plant quickly withered and died from lack of natural sunlight. 

But the winter months always hit Hermann the hardest (seasonal depression compounded on top of regular depression compounded on top of Hermann’s semi-self-inflicted aching loneliness), and moving across an ocean and even further away from everything he knows is hardly helping, which is why his new therapist suggested he get a pet. An emotional support pet, he thinks they’re called. Something for Hermann to look after and have as his companion so he doesn’t spend every moment he’s not lecturing at the nearby university staring out his bedroom window at the ice and the frost and the snow and contemplating his own existence and the aforementioned aching loneliness.

So Hermann got a cat. It was either that, or try to make friends, and he’s never been good at making friends either.

It’s a nice little cat, a small grey-and-white tabby, and Hermann took a shine to it immediately at the local humane society when it peered through the cage at him with big brown eyes and mewed. If Hermann were another man, he might say he took a shine to it because it was cute.

It’s a clever cat, and fairly easy to co-habitat with, too. Hermann feeds it twice a day (morning, before lecturing, and evening, after lecturing) and buys it a scratching post and toys so it doesn’t ruin his furniture. In return, the little cat sometimes curls up on his lap as he grades assignments and on the great empty space in Hermann’s bed every night when Hermann lays down to sleep. Often it will lick Hermann’s hand, as if it’s trying to groom him, or present its plush mouse toys to Hermann as gifts in return for a head scratch. Hermann’s rather fond of it, to his immense surprise. He thinks it’s fond of him.

It’s why he’s near frantic now. He had his front door propped open for a single moment--just long enough to balance his cane with his grocery bags--and his cat took the chance and bolted past him down the hallway. By the time Hermann gathered his bearings and tore after it, it was completely gone. No way of telling where it may be, whether it ran up or down the staircase, whether it ducked into the elevator with another renter, whether it’s even still in the complex.

Hermann didn’t even name the bloody thing yet. How is he supposed to call for it?

He heats up a miserable dinner of leftover pasta and considers what to do next. His cat hasn’t a name, but it does have a collar with Hermann’s cellular number and name on it (suggested by the humane society, and Hermann, ever paranoid, was all too happy to go along with it). If someone finds his cat, they’ll surely call him. He hopes.

There are no phone calls through dinner. Hermann is too worried to grade the stack of assignments cluttering up his kitchen table and spends the evening staring out the window at the ice, and the frost, and the snow...

His cell phone rings; Hermann answers it immediately. “Hello?” he says.

“Uh, Hermann Gottlieb?” someone says.

“Yes,” Hermann says. “Yes, that’s me. Hello.”

“I think I found your cat.”

Newton, as the man on the other end of the phone introduces himself, lives a mere two floors below Hermann (Hermann is out the door and in the elevator before he’s even hung up) and found Hermann’s cat wandering the ground floor when he came home from work. Also at Hermann’s university, to Hermann’s surprise, but biology. (Newton is very talkative; he learns a lot aout him very, very quickly.) He hadn’t even meant to take it home, he explains, it just sort of...followed him.

“Maybe he smelled my cat on me,” he laughs, once he’s shown a still-frantic Hermann into his flat. It’s messy and a little cramped, with coffee mugs and open textbooks and half-finished crochet projects strewn about, movie posters and anatomical diagrams and sketches of plants plastered up all over the (lime green) walls. Messy and cramped, and somehow immensely, and strangely, appealing.

Newton himself is strangely appealing, too. He’s about Hermann’s age, short and scruffy, with tattoos and pierced ears and thick glasses, but he smiles brilliantly at Hermann, touches his shoulder and back companionably as he steers him into his sitting room, has a loud laugh that makes Hermann feel warm and pleasant.

(Newton, Hermann admits to himself, is also cute.)

“This your little guy?” Newton says, picking up Hermann’s cat from his dingy couch. He scratches behind its ears, and it starts purring and nuzzling Newton’s chest immediately.

It is, indeed, Hermann’s grey and white tabby cat. “That’s him,” Hermann sighs. “I really am sorry about this.”

Newton smiles. “It’s fine, dude. He and my cat were chilling.” He nods back to the couch, where a fat orange and white cat is chewing on one of the tassels of Newton’s pillows. Hermann almost hadn’t seen it. “He’s such a dumbass,” Newton says, looking at the fat cat fondly, and then turns his smile on Hermann again. “Anyway, wanna stay for a bit?”

Hermann blinks in mild bewilderment. “Stay?” he says.

Newton has not stopped scratching Hermann’s cat behind the ears. “I just made a pot of coffee,” he says. “I have beer, too. Or,” he starts talking faster, clearly embarrassed, “you can just go if you want, obviously, sorry, you don’t have to--”

“I’d like coffee,” Hermann says. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ha! Cool!” Newton says. “Lemme--” He thrusts Hermann’s cat back at him. “Get comfortable. I’ll be right back. Half and half? Sugar? Coffee, I mean, how do you want it?”

“Black,” Hermann says, holding his purring cat with one hand. “No sugar.”

Newton shoots him two thumbs up and scurries off into his kitchen, and Hermann eases himself down onto the sofa next to the fat orange cat. “What an odd little man,” he says to it. It blinks at him, then continues chewing on the pillow happily.

Hermann can’t seem to stop smiling. He catches sight of the window (nearly obscured by gaudy curtains and window gel clings that are five holidays out of season), and--for the first time in weeks--can’t seem to bring himself to care about the dreary grey winter, either.

Hermann leaves Newton’s flat two hours later, warm, happy, his cat tucked under his arm and Newton’s cell phone number (signed with a long string of x’s and o’s) tucked into his shirt pocket, a dinner date looming on his horizon.

(He moves in with Newton a year later.)

[vanillaflavour81]

Could you do a story where Joavin have a son?? You can include any prompt you want if you want :)

85. “I wanted to apologize.”104. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Joaquin was sitting on the couch, watching his son yawn for the 5th time in a minute. It was already late, and Oliver should definitely go to bed, but he had insisted on waiting up until daddy came home. Joaquin sighed and typed a text to his husband:

“Babe, when will you be home? Oli wants to see you before he goes to bed.”

The reply came after a few seconds:

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Love you!”

Joaquin smiled and looked at Oliver, wanting to tell him that daddy was on his way. But Oli was already asleep, on the living room floor, stretched out on his back next to his coloring book, a crayon still grabbed tightly in his little fist. Joaquin chuckled softly.

He went over to his son and picked him up carefully, not wanting to disturb his sleep, because he knew if Oli woke up now, he would be in one of his infamous bad moods. It was better to just let him sleep. Joaquin carried him upstairs to his room and gently put him in his bed.

Luckily they had already put on his pajamas earlier before Oli had decided that he wanted to go back downstairs and wait for daddy. Joaquin stood at his bed and watched his son sleep, a soft smile on his face. Oli was 3 years old, they had adopted him as a baby, and it had been the best decision of their lives. They both had wanted to have a family, and when they had received the news that they could adopt Oliver, they had both screamed in joy and then cried like two idiots. And Joaquin would never forget the first time he had seen their son. He had taken him in his arms cautiously, still a bit unsure how to hold such a small baby. He had marveled at the tiny hands, the soft brown hair and the cute little face. And then he had looked up and caught Kevin’s gaze, Kevin staring at them in wonder, silent tears streaming down his handsome face. He had walked over to Joaquin and Oliver and hugged them both, whispering: “My boys.”

It hadn’t been easy to get used to life with a baby though. Joaquin didn’t have any experience with little children before, and so he had to learn everything from books. But he and Kevin had decided beforehand that Joaquin would stay at home. Kevin was the one who earned more money with his job as a lawyer. He was a partner in Sierra McCoy’s law office, and it was already clear that, once she retired, Kevin would be the new owner.

But Joaquin had actually liked it this way. He had no problem with staying at home and looking after the house and the baby. He had always wanted to have a real family. But it was still pretty hard in the beginning. Sure Kevin had been home the first few months too, but afterward, Joaquin was the one who was responsible for Oliver the whole day. Luckily he had Josie and Betty, who had kids too. Their children were a little older than Oli, so they already knew how things worked and could help Joaquin when he had questions. They met regularly to go on walks together and for playdates and Joaquin was very grateful for their advice and also for the company, since he got lonely sometimes at home.

But as hard as it might have been to settle into this new life, it was definitely the best thing ever to have a family with Kevin.

Joaquin was still standing at Oliver’s bed and watched him sleep peacefully. Joaquin smiled. The funny thing was that Oliver looked so much like Kevin, the brown hair and the green eyes and the way he pulled a face when someone told him to do something he didn’t want to do. Joaquin had found great fun in styling Oli’s hair the same way as Kevin’s and dressing him in preppy clothes. He loved to call him Preppy No. 2.

He heard the front door opening, and quietly tiptoed out of Oli’s room, and went downstairs to greet his husband.

“Hey Preppy, Oli fell asleep while we were texting.”

“Oh damn! I am sorry, babe!”

Kevin grimaced and put his bag down and quickly walked over to Joaquin, kissing him on the lips. Joaquin wrapped his arms around Kevin and pulled him closer.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. You will have more time for him on the weekend.”

Kevin nodded, “Yeah…but still…I feel bad about it. I barely saw him during the last week. I miss him.”

“I know, and he misses you.” Joaquin smiled at Kevin and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “Come on, get comfy. If you are hungry, you can eat some leftover pasta.”

Kevin nodded, “Yeah, give me five minutes. But I want to eat on the couch. I am in need of a lazy evening in front of the tv, and lots of cuddles from my gorgeous husband.”

“Of course, sounds like a good plan.”

Kevin came back downstairs a few minutes later, wearing sweatpants and a comfy shirt, and Joaquin was already waiting for him on the couch, with a blanket and a plate of pasta. Kevin smiled at him and plopped down next to him. He took the plate from Joaquin and dug into his pasta, while Joaquin cuddled against him, his head on Kevin’s shoulder, and they watched some random tv-shows in silence.

When Kevin was finished eating he put the plate aside and hugged Joaquin, pulling him even closer and stroking his hair gently. Joaquin sighed and closed his eyes, it was so comfy to be snuggled up like that to Kevin. It was something they had always loved to do, from the very first time they had started dating and today, over fifteen years later they still did this all the time, cuddling in front of the tv an enjoying to just be close to each other.

“Joaquin?”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For working so much lately. I barely see Oli and also barely see you, and I feel bad about it. I just leave for work, and you have to do everything on your own. And I know that it is a lot of work to look after our child and to do the chores and everything. You are doing such a great job, babe and I feel like I am not much of help.”

“Hey, don’t worry, Preppy. It’s just because of that big case you are working on at the moment. And I am proud of you. It’s your first big case without Sierra’s help, and you are doing amazing. Another week and it will be over, and you will have more time for us again.”

“Yeah…I miss my boys. I want to take a few days off after the case is closed. I already talked to Sierra, and she is ok with it. I mean you know how she gets when I mention Oliver. She would do anything for her grandson, of course she gave me a week off.”

Joaquin chuckled, indeed he knew all too well how much Sierra loved Oli. She had been a mother of a daughter, and now Josie had two little girls too, and so Oli was the only boy in the family, and that made him grandma Sierra’s little prince who could get everything he wanted. Of course, she would allow Kevin to take a holiday if he told her how much Oli missed his daddy.

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah, and I thought that we should do something fun for Oliver. How about going to Disneyland?”

“Disneyland? Oh, come on Preppy! You aren’t doing this for Oliver, YOU are the one who wants to go there! You have been bugging me about it ever since we started dating!”

He playfully smacked Kevin’s arm and rolled his eyes. Kevin laughed and pouted at him.

“But please…I thought now that we are dads, I am finally qualified to go there. I know that Oli will love it too! And you will too!”

“Of course I will enjoy it. I enjoy spending time with my family. I think it’s a cool idea.”

“Does this mean yes?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Yay! I love you, Joaquin Keller! And next, we will go to The Wizarding World!”

They both laughed, and Joaquin put an arm around Kevin’s waist and cuddled even closer to him. He smiled and nuzzled Kevin’s neck, whispering against the warm skin:

“To others, you might be a reasonable adult, a successful lawyer. But you cannot fool me. You will always stay a geeky little boy at heart, Preppy. And I love it.”

Thank you so much for the prompt! That was such a sweet idea! I hope you like my story about Joaquin and Kevin as parents! Also, I don’t know why their son is named Oliver…I just wrote the name and thought it sounded nice lol ❤

You can find my current Joavin prompt list here. Just send me an ask with any combination of numbers (and if you want it to be smut, just let me know haha). You can also send me your own prompts. I love writing Joavin stories!

Tag list:  @inspiredbynewt  @love-joaquin-and-kevin @rik-raq-jo-gonzo1186@mebeingateenager

[hazelandglasz]

(Art AUs) Date AU with Sterek (and I'm very proud I'm limiting myself to one prompt here :P)

Date AU: I’m on a blind date and the guy/gal starts ranting about how “art isn’t a viable form of work, and how it’s not needed in schools” and you just walked up and schooled them while serving us our food order about how important art is in society, and left your number on my plate written in mustard.

You know what, I have a ton of prompts waiting for me but this is just too funny to pass up so here goes (with Derek as the poor blind date) - I changed it a little, I hope you don’t mind ;)

On AO3

The moment Whatshisface rolls his eyes in disgust is the only moment of the evening when Derek can understand why Erica thought they would be a good match.

Yes, eurgh indeed. Derek isn’t sure they are “eurghing” for the same thing, though.

The man is exuding “elitist” and “spoiled” from every pore, and though he could be seen as conventionally attractive, his personnality is quickly turning him into the ugliest of gargoyles in Derek’s eyes.

“Can you believe this?”

With extreme difficulty, if “this” refers to this date. “Hm?”

“This,” Snobby McSnotty says, pointing at the highlighted dish on the menu. “They want us to pay extra for a pizza under the pretext of supporting the neighborhood’s school Arts program.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Derek says, not only because he knows it will bring this sham of a date to a shorter shelf life, but also because, well, he does believe Arts in school are an important part of the social fabric and the way children grow into adults.

Exhibit A, Mr Douche in front of him who probably stayed in a corner for all of his art classes as a child.

“You’re playing cute,” Dumbass says with a smirk. “But we both know that Arts in schools are about as useful as a degree on a pretty girl, am I right?”

“Most definitely not.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl–”

“Derek.”

“Yes, right. Derek,” the man says, leaning forward as if trying to pull Derek into a confidential mood–as if–, “Art can be fun, sure, but it’s not, like, essential.”

“Ahem.”

Derek looks up and the first smile of the evening blossoms on his face at the sight of his waiter.

For starters, Mr. White Crisp Shirt pushes every button on Derek’s crush control panel.

For seconds, he is glaring daggers at Mr. Douchy Pants and that is almost enough to make him Derek’s best friend.

“We haven’t decided yet.” Jackass says to the waiter without even looking at him.

The waiter, whose name can’t possibly be what is written on his nametag–what kind of name is Stiles anyway–squints even harder.

“It will be just a moment, thank you,” Derek adds, trying to distance himself from his date’s behavior.

This softens Stiles’ demeanor a little, but he still scoffs at Jerkface’s back as he leaves them.

“Some manners won’t kill you, you know,” Derek says, his eyes firmly on the menu.

“I don’t have to, it’s his job.”

“Oh my God.”

“What? Like you’re such a posterchild for manners?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Jerkface snorts. “Right. So under all those muscles and glares, you’re telling me that there is a softie with a heart of gold, who frames children’s drawings and is polite to everybody?”

“I don’t see how one is incompatible with the other.” Derek tries really hard to control his temper. “And as a matter of fact, yes, I frame my nephews’ art to hang around my house.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine. “Not that you’ll get to see it or anything.”

Behind him, Derek swears he hears someone snorting and attempting to hide it under a cough. In front of him, Jerkface Supreme merely smirks. “Playing hard to get, uh?”

“Nope, predicting the end of the evening.”

“See, that’s why Arts are not useful to kids–nay, why it’s a bad influence.”

“Oh wow.”

“By giving a disproportionate place to Art, you developed a sense of superiority over other people.”

“Because that is not condescending at all.”

Derek agrees with that sentence, almost said it himself, but their waiter is back and is glaring at Douche McJerky.

“Who asked for your opinion?”

“No one, but that hasn’t stopped you, now, has it,” Stiles says, putting down a bottle of water and leaning over the table. “Now, whether you want to hear it or not, get ready for some knowledge being dropped into the void between your ears.”

“How dare–”

“Tut-tut,” Stiles cuts him, a finger pressed to his lips.

Derek leans back in his chair, glass of wine in hand as he pulls the mini plate of appetizers toward himself. This gonna be good.

“First of all, asshole, art is important in school because it gives children an outlet, a way of getting rid of their anxiety, their surplus of emotions instead of resorting to violence.”

“B–”

“Second of all, art is important later in education because it allows for creativity, world building, all things useful in all aspects of life. It develops the brain in ways other curriculum cannot, and studies show that students engaged in arts perform better. Wouldn’t you like that, to perform better?”

Behind Stiles’ hand–and Derek does notice that it is a very nice hand indeed–DoucheCanoe glares and frowns, and turns a very unattractive shade of puce.

“Third of all, having regular Art classes help the children to develop their motor skills and their visual-spatial skills. It supports a critical view of the world, and helps them being prepared to tackle different points of view.”

“That’s rubbish,” Annoyance in Human Form says, pushing Stiles away before he can get to point number four, “and I demand to see your manager.”

Stiles pauses, and his lips slowly but surely stretch into a smirk.

A devilish smirk, the kind that sends delicious shivers down Derek’s spine.

“I am the manager.”

Oh this is priceless.

“What-but–you’re a kid.”

Stiles beams at him. “Why, thank you, I moisturize daily, and I have good genes. Now scram.”

Derek’s date opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, before snatching his jacket to storm out.

Stiles brushes his hands like he got rid of some particularly nasty vermin before turning to Derek, his smile turning apologetic and, dare he say it, shy.

“I am sorry I ruined your date, but it didn’t look like a very promising one.”

“You saved my evening,” Derek says with a crooked smile. “Did you have more fine points in favor of the arts?”

“I sure do.”

“Would you care to share them with me?”

Stiles’ cheeks turn a blotchy pink, from the high of his cheekbones to his neck. Derek kind of wants to follow it under Stiles’ crisp white shirt.

He blames the wine.

(It’s not the wine.)

“I–I’d love to.” Stiles waves at someone, another waiter who silently brings a large plate of pasta, covered in a red sauce that smells divine. “I’m Stiles, manager of this restaurant.”

Derek smiles. “I’m Derek, art teacher.”

Stiles’ laughter lasts for a while, enough to give Derek a need to see how this sound would feel against his skin.

(He finds out two weeks later.)

[thehuggamugcafe]

Whichever one you think fits best for the prompt! ♥ “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

OOC:Ooh, leaving it up to chance, eh, anon? Haha. Very well! I’ll do mybest to cater to your request! As for everyone else who’s readingthis, please sit back, relax with your favourite beverage, and letthis Mun chill you and thrill you. Enjoy~!

Also, credit goes to the ever amazing @handfulof-roses​  for helping out this lazy Barista with a fair portion of this request/order. So thank you, thank you, thank you for your assistance, Rose! If you guys haven’t checked out her blog yet, please do so!

The day that Arsène Lupin got on one knee, held out a smallvelvet box with a very expensive-looking ring inside in onehand, and gently held your hand in his, asking you to share your lifewith him as his wife was the happiest day of your life.

“My dear rose. You have enraptured me from the moment I metyou. You have done this demon a great service by staying by hisside… Will you continue to do so? Not as my lover, but as my wife?”

You still recalled how your eyes had welled up with tears, nearlyblubbering like a newborn baby as you threw your arms over hisshoulders, clinging to him as you screamed, “Yes, Arsène!”over and over again.

You’d been overjoyed, too overjoyed to see the dark,almost evil smile that curled Arsène’s lips as youcontinued to chant the words “yes!” and “Arsène!”over and over again.

You remembered being on the verge of tears on your wedding day.

You remembered Arsène chuckling as he raised his hands, using histhumbs to wipe away the tears away from your cheeks.

You were pretty sure Arsène briefly slipped his tongue into yourmouth, smiling into the first kiss you both shared as a newlywedcouple, just as the priest announced you both to be husband and wife.

You were certain that you wept heartily as Arsène mesmerized theguests attending the wedding, leading you into your first dance as amarried duo.

You remembered so many wonderful things.

But, overall, more than that…

You remembered being happy.

You remembered being contentwith your life.

You remembered feeling like youlingered in paradise, walled-off from the rest of the world, thinkingthat no hellfire could possibly reachyou and ruin your little slice of heaven.

To you, it was ridiculous. Itcouldn’t possiblyhappen; not to you, of all people.

The thought never once crossed yourmind. No, you refused to believe it.

It was impossible for Hell’sscorching heat to touch you, even if it was in a metaphorical sense.

How foolish you’d been… How idioticyou’d been to not see the invisible shackles clasped around yourwrists, to not see that not only had you all but consented to beingbound to him…

But that hewas the one who clasped them around your wrists to begin with, and hesmiled as he took your freedom away, slowly but surely.

You never took into account thatthe one you should bewary of was the man who asked for your hand in marriage, not once.

In your defence, why would younot trust yournewlywed husband, Arsène Lupin?

He appeared to be quite angelic innature, despite his actual origins.

He radiated an aura of compassion,love, and understanding.

He was nothing but a kind, dutifulhusband, a gentleman who was always at the top of his game.

Yes, his smile was reminiscent of anethereal being, whispering sweet words of honeyed affection into yourears whenever he held you in his arms.

“I love you, my dear rose.”

“I have never seen one myself, but… I am sure that I canthank a God, or Gods, for blessing me with good fortune.”

“For I have never known true happiness until I met you.”

“I will do whatever ittakes to ensure that no one disrupts my peaceful days with you.”

If only you took into accountjust how serious, how sincerehe’d been at the time.

He was smiling, always smiling at you.

Yes, for he held your heart—no,your very soul itseemed—in the palms of his hands.

However…

His ruby red gaze never once strayed from you.

His firebrand irises never looked away from you.

Sometimes, he’d hold you a bit tootightly, a bit toopossessively.

Sometimes, his worry for your safety went far beyond theboundaries of what people would call “normal.”

Your husband, Arsène Lupin, was theone who held the key to your restricted freedom, both metaphoricallyand realistically speaking.

Everything changed after your two-weekhoneymoon.

Everything happened slowly, gradually,set to a snail’s pace, but…

Suddenly, he became suspicious ofmen you’d known for years.

“Who was that man you were talking to, dear?”

“Oh, he’s just a friend of mine, Arsène. We went to middleschool together.”

“I see.”

“Mm-hm. He asked me out at work. There’s a restaurant hewants to go to, so we can catch up.”

“…He asked you out?”

“As friends, of course. I haven’t gotten back to him aboutaccepting his offer yet, though.”

You’d never get the chance totake your friend—your decidedly malefriend—up on his offer at a dinner date, a date strictly between friends. A few hours out onthe town, talking, laughing, reminiscing about your school days,asking questions about how you were and such…

Gone.

A golden opportunity to catch up withan old friend… wasted.

It was a choice you’d never get to make,whether you accepted, politely declined his offer, or took him up onhis request to dinner another time.

It was seven days later that yourfriend was found on the river bank, approximately 5 miles from whereyou and Arsène lived.

Or rather, what was left of yourfriend.

When the police had found him, hisremains had been picked over by the local wildlife, scattered acrossthe river bank. According to the rumour-mongers who lived around yourarea, and the hisses of gossip from the housewives in yourneighbourhood, some parts had been found floating on the water’sdark, crystalline surface, and others were simply strewed throughoutthe deep thicket of the forest.

When the discovery of a body, yourfriend’s body, had been located, for a whole straight week,his death had been on the front of every newspaper. His disappearanceand murder was the top news story on the six o’clock news on everystation; indeed, even radio talk show hosts couldn’t helpthemselves from tossing out possible theories related to yourfriend’s disappearance. Indeed, your friend’s grisly demise wasthe hefty source of hissed whispers of gossip, and a majornoteworthy item of theories run through the rumour mill throughoutthe city.

Needless to say, you took your friend’suntimely demise, his murder, quite hard.

Tear stained cheeks were a newaccessory to your assortment of differing shades of black, thefuneral being the only thing that caused you to leave your home asyou struggled to accept the grim reality that had washed upon youlike a tidal wave.

You felt that you were responsible, an accomplice of somesort to the sickening story that was playing in front of you, thatyou, ultimately, were the cause of the man’s demise who had donenothing but be kind to you from the start.

And that made your stomach churn even thinking about thepossibility.

You mentioned it as a possibility to Arsène, hoping it wouldease the weight that was on your shoulders, the wedding ring glintingunder the lights of the shared living room.

“Why would you think that, my love? You were nothing butsupportive to him, and it’s… tragic that it ended up likethis.”

You almost didn’t notice the underlying threat in his voice.

Almost.

“It’s nothing really. I just wanted to talk about it, get itoff my chest so that I would feel better.”

That wasn’t a lie per say, but something on the edge, itbalancing between light and dark on a thread stretched thin, so thinit was almost snapping and nearly invisible to the eye.

His hand wrapped around yours, squeezing it tightly as he watcheda smile grace your lips, a smile that was clearly fake but he decidednot to question at the moment, instead him bringing his lips to yoursin a scorching manner, jealousy staining the kiss that left a bittertaste on your tongue.

“Of course my dear, I’m here if you need anything. I am yoursafter all.”

And you are mine, even if you don’t believe it at times.

Tongues danced together after the phrase was spoken, clothesdiscarded to make way for a night of euphoria and bliss that wouldleave you reeling, no, begging for more.

He loved seeing you like this.

When you were red faced and glassy eyed, his name and othersounds spilling from your lips, marks left all over your body by himand him only, a smirk on his face as he watched you cover them upin the morning.

You were his, and that’s all you would ever be.

Mornings became mundane, stuck on permanent repeat from that point on.

You sat at the kitchen table according to schedule, your tired eyes ogling the television screen as Arsèneall but lorded over the stove. The scent of bacon and eggs wafted through the sunlit kitchen as a concoction of sizzles and pops came from the frying pan, and three slices of toast popped from the toaster. Soon, the water in the kettle bubbled as a distinct click came as the kettle’s mechanism shut off, a sign that the water it contained was piping hot and ready to be poured at a moment’s notice.

You were in the throes of nodding off at the table when a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast was set in front of you, and after that a cup of your favourite beverage was set before you as well.

“Here you are, my dear. Just as you like it,” Arsènesaid, stooping down to press a kiss to your cheek.

You stiffened as he looped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you closer to him, but if he noticed it, he didn’t say anything. However, his red irises glinted when you didn’t say anything.

“Darling, when someone does something for you… What do you say?”

Darkness. There was darkness in his voice. His voice that oozed an abysmal tone, hissing shadows as he smiled pleasantly at you.

You swallowed before your mouth opened, a response at the ready.

“T-Thank you, sweetheart.”

Oh, how it pained you to speak words of thanks, words of meaningless gratitude to him… You knew what he’d done to your friend, you knew what he’d been doing after what happened to your friend, and yet you kept silent. 

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t fear for your life, but…

It was the fear of his unpredictable nature that overpowered the uncertainty of whether or not you’d live, if you breathed a whisper of what you knew. You had no honest clue what he’d do if you went to the police, if you dared to say anything about it to anyone, so you kept your mouth shut.

A soft chuckle snapped you out of your barely-aware stupor. Arsène’s chuckle.

“There’s my lovely, dutiful wife… If anyone else were to be called “sweetheart” by you… Things could become quite troublesome, couldn’t they?”

“Y-Yes, honey.” Your response was quick, thoughtless, but you were truthful.

Things could indeed become troublesome if a man became too close to you. Any man who wasn’t your husband, ArsèneLupin.

“In other news, local authorities were notified of another body by the river bank early this morning. This is the latest development in the string of on-going murders. Police are looking into the possibility of a serial killer and…”

Despite the sun pouring into the kitchen, you felt as though all source of light had been sucked out of your life.

Despite your husband peppering your face with soft, affectionate kisses, you felt hollow, empty, soulless.

Despite the honeyed, sugarcoated words he cooed into your ear as he stroked your hair, a content smile pulling his lips apart to show a teasing hint of pearly whites, you felt disgusting, dirty, and defiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” Arsène muttered, his fingers holding your chin as he tilted your face up so that your gaze met his crimson leer.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, my dear rose.”

The last thin tendon of your dwindling sanity was snipped by a pair of invisible scissors, and you felt the cold shackles adorning your wrists grow tight as you felt a similar pair of icy steel clamp around your ankles.

This is Hell. I’m in Hell. I’ve been in Hell all along, haven’t I? I have a jealous devil for a husband.