#Honestly? I like it but it's SO CUMBERSOME

[starakex]

Terrible rainy day lighting but. After a bout of recovery post-convention, I'm back to sewing and finished up Zeke's tail!

[swagging-back-to]

just ordered a 40 gallon tank for the main colony bc i actually cant stand how small both their tank is and sushi and mochi's.

their current tank sizes are 30gal and 15 gal respectively and goddd it is not enough. the 30 gallon would be fine for a few mice but for a whole colony it is NOT.

[nerdie-faerie]

Why is it that when I'm sick, finishing work late because a load of people didn't show up and ongoing work drama, stressed about my upcoming essay and still have a hour walk before I can get home, my dad is apparently kicking off and threatening to kick me out when I'm not even there??

[delirious-donna]

tw: katsuki x female reader, pro-hero, early 30s katsuki, pure smut, pussy drunk katsuki, finishing untouched, implied multiple rounds, implied unprotected sex, seriously I was just on a filthy rampage 😌

It had happened so fast; so fast that you weren’t sure when your intent had been entirely disregarded in favour of your hot-headed husband’s desire to devour you whole. Not that you were really complaining.

Your phone slid onto the counter, anticipation thrumming through you knowing that another patrol had ended successfully with nothing but a few scrapes and scratches to deal with. Child’s play at this point for the number two pro hero and the love of your life.

Heavy boots stomped towards the apartment door; each step echoed in time with the second heartbeat between your legs and you clenched them shut for a hit of friction. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, not without his body slotted against yours. Hard steel enveloped by your soft curves.

The overwhelming swell of lust was immediate when the door opened, a head of ashy blond spikes dipped low appeared and it felt as if his presence sucked the very oxygen from the room. His cumbersome gauntlets were missing—likely left behind at the agency—but his hero suit remained. It was covered in fine dust, thick black streaks of dirt darkened his biceps and sweat lingered on his brow and shoulders as if he had run here… had he run here?

It was hardly a new scenario, this man was your husband and the routine of his dangerous line of work was well accustomed to both of you, but there was always the adrenaline that came after the ‘fight’. It consumed you both, dragged you under raging, lust-fuelled waves until there was no rational thoughts left—only the need.

Katsuki was your air, your reason to draw breath; all you wanted was to see him happy, loved, content with the world he built for you both. Those were the desires you always harboured, right now, you were focused on your baser instincts.

You needed to swallow him down, have his fat tip punish the soft tissue at the back of your throat until you were slurping down his seed like the greedy beast you felt like. Dammit, you were already licking your lips in sweet anticipation. The phantom salty musk taste whet your mouth with runny saliva, and he smirked when he caught your eye.

Honestly, you had expected to settle low and spread on your haunches. You wanted to worship him whilst he towered overhead. His sheer size and frame were mammoth and imposing; broad shoulders and arms thick with golden-hued muscles, a barrelled chest heaving with every inhale and his nostrils flared as confidence beat against his conscious thought. Bakugou Katsuki was a pure powerhouse of a man, a man of action first and foremost, and never more was that true when you felt his deeply calloused palm grab at the back of your neck.

His mouth slanted atop yours, tongue bullying its way into your mewling mouth as you grabbed at his shoulders to stabilise yourself against the force of being hauled against his chest. His unique glycerin laced sweat mingled with the spice of his soap, filling your nose with only him whilst caramel burst over your tastebuds.

Katsuki overwhelmed your senses so easily that you had no idea you were being walked backwards towards the bedroom. He boots thudded as he kicked out of them, stalking forward with no sign of halting the dominance of his kisses, the grope of your hips, waist, breasts. He never stopped, refused to waver and you were simply swept up in the rip tide that he was his momentum.

Instead of falling to your knees in the hallway like you intended, you found your spine pressed against rich brushed cotton sheets, bare and vulnerable to his attentive gaze. It had you squirming, reacting to every simple brush of his fingers on your heated skin. It did not go unnoticed, nothing every did with Katsuki.

You whined, low and throaty when he pathed a wet trail of kisses down your front, stopping at your breasts and lapping at your peaked nipples in turn. He showed no sign of shucking out of his hero suit, and whilst you adored him decked out for business, right here and now, it simply wouldn’t stand.

“Kat—please...”

His crimson eyes rolled in feigned annoyance, but the smirk couldn’t hide exactly how pleased he was that you wanted to see more of him, like he didn’t already know… the menace.

“For a kiss,” he bartered with a smug smile.

“My fucking pleasure,” you replied, eliciting an amused huff of the hero hovering over you.

Grabbing at the front of his compression shirt, you pulled him down until your lips crashed against his. The kiss was a mixture of sweet and salty, the pace alternating between slow and steady to hurried and frantic. You knew every lick to make him groan, every nip at his bottom lip that would stir the beast within until it roared with the compulsion to take over.

“Cussing is my vice, get your own. Now stop complainin’ and let me eat you out.”

With those rough words, the top half of his clothes swiftly disappeared into a dark corner leaving him bare-chested and magnificent. A literal wall of muscle with a liberal smattering of scars, and it stole your breath to gaze upon him.

Your foot braced against his toned pec, taking in the sight of the ash blond God that moved to kneel between your thighs, drinking him down in intoxicated delight.

Katsuki kissed along your calf until his nose pressed against the fat of your thigh, a low moan issued from his throat sending sparks dancing in your veins. Sometimes you could hardly believe it; the big burly pro hero known for his surly, no-nonsense attitude was so easily affected by being buried in your pussy—pussy drunk if you will. It would make you chuckle if he wasn’t in the process of scattering your wits to the wind with his hungry mouth.

Time ceased all meaning as you gave into Katsuki’s every whim, giving up on the keening pleads for you to return the favour after your second orgasm broke onto his awaiting tongue, slick slurped down his swallowing throat. His fingers tightened into the fat of your backside, spreading you further apart with each massage of his warm calloused hands.

He took his time in licking a fat wet strip over your soaked cunt, tugging on the puffy flesh of your folds with insistent lips. Guttural groans vibrated against your throbbing clit, your bud tender from the array of orgasms the hulking male pulled from you without showing sign of stopping.

Your toes sank into the flexing muscles of his broad shoulders, sensing their every ripple as he prodded once more at your gushing entrance. Slick already coated his fingers, drenched up to the knuckles as he pressed against your velvet walls.

“So good—taste so fuckin’ delicious,” he grunted, lips dancing across your sweat dappled skin with every word.

“Oh, ‘suki—oh god. Please, one more.”

Eyes of brightest ruby snapped up to lock with your own, widening almost imperceptibly as his entire body jerked, once then twice. His digits pressed firmly against your front wall, massaging the engorged tissue of your pleasure spot in earnest until you broke apart at the seams once more.

So blissed out from the release of tension low in your belly, you barely realised when the weight on the bed dipped and moved, Katsuki rolled sideways on a panted breath to reveal a large damp stain on the front of his black combat trousers.

“Fuck—I… shit-I need a minute. Got me busting in my damn pants like I’m still a fuckin’ horny teenager, sweetheart.”

You chuckled but quickly schooled yourself into some semblance of a stern expression. “You’re saying it’s my fault, Bakugou?”

“Don’t you Bakugou me, Mrs Bakugou. Don’t think that cause I ruined my trousers I’m not going to ruin your insides. Just gotta give me five minutes,” he huffed, standing to peel away the sticky mess from his cum-covered groin.

You paid for that attitude… over and over until you were as ruined as he promised.

[angelshadowsinger]

oh my fucking god your work is incredible! holy literal shit balls i have never felt that entranced by a fanfiction until reading yours. thank u thank u thank u your azriel is PERFECT.

also i’m totally gonna need your thoughts on azriel sharing with his shadows 👀

re: ummmmmmm call me parmesan bc u got me CHEESIN!?!?!! that is literally sO sweet of you to say, i am touched 🥺 as a fic author you always worry if you’re making the character OOC and, it just makes me so happy to hear your praise!! thank you so much anon~ ♥︎ This HC is a bit more than what you’ve asked for, but it does includes it, so pls enjoy!

Azriel’s Shadows Around his Mate Headcanons

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

In my eyes, Azriel’s shadows are a part of him. There hasn’t been much insight that Maas has given us with shadowsingers and their capabilities in general, but this is what I choose to believe~

Since Azriel’s shadows were perhaps the first of his powers, and the first entity to treat him with some kindness/obedience, I think he would be very in tune with them and he himself would consider them a part of him. He has had over 500 years to develop his relationship with them and therefore, I believe once he found his mate, his shadows would be just as captivated with her as he himself.

Obviously, Azriel is a total simp for his girl (but that’s another hc in its own), so that means his shadows are too. Honestly, it could be viewed as annoying how often at least a few of his shadows are constantly at your side. He’s used to having them totally loyal to him, so now that he has to share them with you… well, it’s not really actually that cumbersome, because he knows that even when you two are apart, he’ll be sure to know if you need him/his help. Though he has a couple less to send out on his spymaster business, technically, the ones with you are acting as his spies anyway. Just, with a far more interesting and important subject.

His shadows do a variety of things for you, making your everyday life easier and more pleasant. Just as their master, the shadows like to give you princess treatment.

For example, they go out of their way to help you with mundane things. If you’re making dinner and a tomato rolls off the cutting board, they’re pushing it back to you. When you’re putting on a dress, they’re helping you with the zip and clasp. If you’re writing something and your pen runs out of ink, somehow they’ve procured a new one that matches your exact preferences.

Both Az and his shadows notice the small things. They take notes of your likes and dislikes, what makes you giggle, cry, or provides you comfort.

At times when he’s away for a long while, and you’re missing him, they will deliver small gifts to you. A couple flowers tied with twine, native to the strange lands he’s currently working in. A special spice he knows you love to use in the foods you share with him. An especially-delicious pastry made with your favorite fruit/flavor. Though the shadows themselves do not find you gifts, they are happy to deliver whatever Az requests they send.

They also will take anything you wish to send him. Whether he’s in another country, or simply training at the House of Wind with his brothers, his shadows will deliver your every gift. Most of the time it’s little sweets or a lunch you’ve packed. Sometimes when you’re feeling cheekier, a receipt from the lingerie store informing him of your latest purchase. If you’re really feeling brazen, sometimes the panties themselves. His shadows are perhaps happiest to carry those items, either to get into contact with them or to see their master’s red cheeks as he shoves them out of his brothers’ view.

His shadows are your caretaker when he is not with you. When you’ve fallen asleep staying up for your mate’s return from yet another mission, his shadows will tuck you under your favorite blanket, taking off your reading glasses and ensuring your spot in the open book on your lap is not lost. Az nearly melts when he comes back to the sight, you dead asleep on the couch in front of the blazing hearth, his shadows perched dutifully there, guarding you.

However, they grow attached to you and even when he is with you, they will not leave you alone unless he commands them.

Azriel likes to take full advantage of his time alone with you. There is nothing he finds more comfort and pleasure in than being in your embrace. Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when his shadows steal away your attention, or beat him to helping you with the zip of your dress.

It’s a very endearing sight to see him get jealous of his own shadows. He’d have a scowl on his face as he glared at them, silently ordering them to leave your side so he could have you all to himself. The shadows would melt onto the floor, gloomy in a way, whisper once more around your ankle before they go off to fulfill their master’s instruction.

Most of the time, you manage to guilt your mate into letting a few of them come back. And as soon as he calls them, they appear and shoot right for you. Az rolls his eyes but of course he understands. How could they not fall in love with you?

Azriel is actually very good with sharing. This usually applies to you when his shadows are involved, though sometimes he just needs to be alone with you. Whether it’s to have his way with you or just to snuggle up and bask in his mate’s presence. When he needs time like that, he will have his shadows guard your quarters and they will do so without question— fiercely protecting the only two beings they care for.

~spicy hc’s begin ;)~

Most of the time, Azriel will take the lead in pleasuring you— as he should, as your mate— but he’s likely to let his shadows watch or join his efforts if they play a supporting role.

For example, his favorite thing is to be between your legs, feasting on your sweet cunt and making sure you know you are his, while his shadows hold you down so you can’t move an inch. This way, you have to take the pleasure in the exact way he desires, unable to greedily chase your high or buck your hips or push him away.

Usually he plays with you for a while like this, teasing you and edging you a handful of times before he’s ruthless, unstopping even after you’ve come. He does cease his ravishing after you’ve come again, only to ensure he doesn’t overstimulate you before he’s had a chance to fuck you like you both want.

His shadows are happy to shackle you and render you helpless to his onslaught of pleasure; they love hearing your wanton cries and will dry away any tears of pleasure that escape with a cool, ghostly caress.

Speaking of their caress, one of his favorite uses for them is to soothe your skin when he’s done marking it up. Meaning, after every spank or particularly hard bite, the shadows will rove over the irritated flesh, kissing you with their cooling tendrils.

Since the shadows are slightly cold, sending them to curl around your nipples while he fucks you from behind is also another favorite. The temperature-play heightens everything— especially when they move down your curves to tease at your clit or your ass, depending on your preference…

Sometimes he lets them fuck you as part of your foreplay— usually while you’re sucking his cock. He just loves the surprise that flickers in your eyes when you’re choking on the length of him deep in your throat, how your lashes flutter when that familiar cool touch tickles your inner thighs and pushes your wet panties aside, how your moan feels vibrating around him when they thrust inside of you. He savors how your rhythm gets thrown, how you struggle to continue when his shadows are running over every sensitive crevice of your most intimate parts.

On rarer occasions, Azriel will let the shadows have their way with you. He’d sit back in a comfortable, wing-friendly armchair, darkened hazel eyes drinking in every movement before him— you with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the darkness holding your legs spread and fondling every inch of you— cupping your tender breasts, tweaking those pert, hard nipples… stroking your face, your hair, your hips and thighs… flowing over your puffy clit, slipping between your dripping folds and even wandering inside of you, perhaps just as deep as Azriel’s cock could reach. He would jerk his leaking shaft at the sight before him, lip held prisoner in his feral snarl. He wouldn’t be able to last very long, the sight before him too much for him to keep his composure.

When you’re both spent and panting for breath, the shadows will run up and down your moistened back, taking away the heat that lingers there and helping to lull you to sleep.

Only when you’re unconscious do they return to Azriel, curling around his shoulders in thanks. They know they are lucky to be the sole creature/presence with which he shares his mate, and any time spent with you is valued payment for the many services they provide their master with.

[vynegar]

vyn 5th birthday ssr, part one

so… it has (yet again) been almost a year and a half since my last translation. honestly i didn’t expect to be back either since i’ve been taking a hiatus from reading CN server cards, so this is a surprise to me too! there were just some parts of this story i really liked and wanted to translate, so here we are. i hope you enjoy!

disclaimer (there is an extra one): this is a fan translation and i am not fluent in chinese, so keep in mind that there will be mistakes. please also note that although i’m translating this story, i don’t necessarily agree with everything that’s said in the story or with how it handles certain topics (mainly regarding the justice system and mental illness). feel free to let me know if you have questions, concerns, or comments.

do not repost without explicit permission. if you want to quote this or reference parts of the translation, credit and link back to me.

check my masterlist for more of my analysis/translations.

timestamps go along with the card video here. it’s not mine, please support the uploader ShiroNaya by liking/commenting/subscribing. also note that while the video uses the S-CN dub, the text is T-CN, so the on-screen text may have slight differences with the dub and my translation.

[PART ONE]

[0:31] Themis Law Firm

It was lunch hour, and the drowsy atmosphere spread through the office like a virus. Sunlight blurred the words on my screen until they were hard to distinguish. My thoughts were starting to wander, as the red circle I had drawn on my desktop calendar looked especially bright.

MC: (Come to think of it, it’s almost Vyn’s birthday…)

Last year we were stuck in Svart because of the Appointment Ceremony, but this year things were quiet. However, I couldn’t be sure if this was simply the quiet before the storm, or if Eirik had truly understood Vyn’s resolve after we escaped…

MC: (Either way… last year was tumultuous, but this year we should be able to peacefully celebrate Vyn’s birthday. Maybe I should ask him what his thoughts are…)

I unlocked my phone. Figuring that Vyn was probably still taking his afternoon nap, I instead started to search restaurants he might be interested in…

Kiki: Huh!? Is this real?!

The quiet office broke out into commotion; Kiki’s shout startled me so much I almost dropped my phone.

Kiki: MC, look at this.

Before I could react, my vision was completely obstructed by a phone screen Kiki reached over to show me.

???: I, Zheng Yan, have had my life ruined by false charges! My family was torn apart, and now they’re all dead! Do I really deserve all this?! Yes, I’ve made mistakes. But if this is all just karma, then where’s the karma for the people who harmed me?!

Kiki was showing me a livestream of a middle-aged man standing on a rooftop. His face was haggard, his hair was mostly white, and he made no attempt to conceal his pain and despair. The hoarse shouting was scattered to the fierce winds.

Zheng Yan: You’re all good people, but I… I just don’t want to live anymore!

MC: What?!

The man stepped over the railing. His cumbersome body seemed like he might lose his balance at any moment, causing several more people in the office to cry out in alarm.

MC: Is he livestreaming his suicide?!

Kiki: Yes. He’s only just started, but the stream already has over a million hits.

A livestreamed suicide made for a shocking headline. Before long, the law firm was filled with continuous sound of the man’s laments.

Zheng Yan: My son is just a boy, but because we didn’t have the money for his treatment, all he could do in the end was just wait at home to die. When he was in so much pain he couldn’t sleep, I was in prison. When he was on his deathbed crying out for his dad, I was still in prison! I’m despicable. I should just die! I’m sorry, Xiao Zhuo, I’m so sorry… (1)

He was crawling on the ground, weeping. I couldn’t help but frown at the sight of such a heartbroken father.

MC: What happened to him? What made him like this?

Kiki: It seems like he was wrongfully imprisoned in Svart, but he hasn’t gone into specifics.

MC: Svart?

The sobbing gradually stopped. Zheng Yan calmed himself, then looked back into the camera.

Zheng Yan: But before I die, I won’t let the person who harmed me get away with it!  I’m going to show everyone your true colors!

[flashback]

[3:39] Interrogation Room

The room was dim. With the only window facing a hallway, even the alternation of day and night had lost all meaning here. Worse still was the unrelenting rain – like hypnotic white noise, the incessant thunderstorm wore down even the most resilient of minds.

Zheng Yan didn’t know how long had passed, but based on the increasing impatience of his interrogator, Detective Jack, he figured his custody limit was almost up (2). Just hang in there a little longer, he thought. They had simply gotten the wrong guy. Soon, he would be free, and once he was out of the police station he could go home to Stellis. It was summer, which meant Xiao Zhuo’s birthday was coming up. Zheng Yan hadn’t seen his son since coming to Svart. Did his son still remember him…?

???: Ahem.

A coffee spoon clinked against the walls of the cup. The crisp sound immediately interrupted his wistful daydreams.

???: You seem distracted.

Ah yes, how could he forget. There was someone else in the room.

A young man sat across from him nonchalantly, holding a coffee mug. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance – except his unforgettable eyes. Zheng Yan had been to prison in Stellis and seen people with all sorts of looks in their eyes: those muddled with desire, those agonized by regret… but he had never seen eyes so clear that they made him feel ashamed. People had weaknesses because they had a goal, and this man seemed to have no goal.

Zheng Yan: Oh… what were we talking about…?

Although the atmosphere wasn’t tense, Zheng Yan still felt a sense of unease. The young man hadn’t revealed his name, only that he was a psychology consultant invited by the police and that he just wanted to chat with him. It didn’t sound very formal, almost as if the police were out of other options… However, it was still possible that this was just a smokescreen for something else. What had this person been thinking when Zheng Yan was lost in his own thoughts?

Young man: We were talking about how the different the weather is in Svart compared to Stellis. You are still not accustomed to it.

The young man easily brought up the trivial topic, wasting the police’s precious time.

Zheng Yan: Ah… that’s right, summer here is nothing compared to summer in Stellis! Xiao Zhuo’s mom would always make a big pot of mung bean soup around this time of year, and any leftovers we would make into mung bean popsicles. Whenever Xiao Zhuo got so hot he was sweating like a pig, he would eat one to cool off. You probably haven’t had mung bean soup before, have you? Back when I was in Stellis, it was too sweet for me, but now I miss the stuff.

Young man: I have tried making it before, but it is not as hot here as it is in Stellis. Its cooling effect was not that apparent.

Zheng Yan: Oho, sounds like you’re interested in Stellis! You’ve even tried making mung bean soup. I didn’t think people from Svart had even heard of the dish.

Young man: Is that enough to count as “interest?” Although, it is true that I would like to visit Stellis.

The man was reticent, but it was the first time he showed an emotion that Zheng Yan could not understand.

Zheng Yan: Sounds good! When you have a chance, come visit me at my home. People from Stellis are very welcoming to guests.

Young man: “Visit you at your home”… So you believe you still have a chance of leaving.

The man responded to Zheng Yan’s promise with an almost-instinctual disdain, as if he knew something that Zheng Yan didn’t. His tone wasn’t even that of a question, it was one of finality.

Zheng Yan: Why wouldn’t I? I already said, I didn’t kill anyone. And the police haven’t found any evidence – are they planning on arresting a good person?

Zheng Yan unwittingly rose his voice. Ever since he’d been detained, everyone had been acting like he would never be able to leave… Why? He hadn’t killed anyone! The police had it all wrong, and there was no way they found any evidence. Once the custody limit was up, he would be free to go. Xiao Zhuo was still waiting for his dad. Zheng Yan was certain he’d be able to go home, of course he’d be able to, he had to.

Young man: You, a good person? Perhaps Stellis and Svart have very different definitions of what it means to be a “good person.”

Zheng Yan quickly realized that getting emotional was playing right into his hands… But no matter how much he tried to control himself, the derision in the man’s words wounded him deeply. When he left Stellis, Xiao Zhuo had said the same thing – sobbing, he said that he didn’t want a bad person as his dad. Xiao Zhuo was only a child, so that undisguised loathing had stabbed Zheng Yan right in the heart. He couldn’t help but clench his fists.

Young man: I saw your Stellis criminal record. First burglary, then armed robbery… just one crime after another. Right now your child is only seven years old, but the sum of all the prison terms you have been sentenced to is longer than the time he has been alive.

Zheng Yan: I admit it, I made a lot of mistakes in the past. I lost my way. But for Xiao Zhuo’s sake, I turned over a new leaf – I’m a changed man now!

Young man: Hah…

The man snorted. His blatant ridicule provoked Zheng Yan once again, even after Zheng Yan’s effort to calm himself down.

Zheng Yan: Is something funny?!

Young man: Why of course. I would love to ask Xiao Zhuo whether he thinks someone sitting handcuffed in an interrogation room is a “changed man.” I am sure he would laugh even harder than I did.

Zheng Yan: You have the wrong guy! I didn’t kill anyone, the cops made a mistake!

That had provoked Zheng Yan. His handcuffs made a harsh sound as metal scraped metal, a reminder of how dire and helpless his current situation was.

Young man: The police would not arrest someone without a good reason. Only you and the deceased were in the office when the crime occurred, and you do not even have a proper alibi. Do you really think you can escape this?

The man’s index finger tapped the table sporadically. In contrast with Zheng Yan’s agitation, he seemed certain of his victory.

Young man: You are only this relaxed because you believe the crime occurred in a locked room. As long as the police are unable to determine how you committed the crime, you will be released once your custody limit is up. But were your efforts really that flawless? To be honest with you, your custody limit is going to be extended again. This means that the police will have more time to investigate.

Zheng Yan: You guys—!

On the verge of being consumed by rage, Zheng Yan was no longer rational enough to discern the veracity of that statement. The young man paused, suppressing his annoyance at having to waste time talking to Zheng Yan, then put on a charitable expression.

Young man: There is a difference between choosing to turn yourself in and having to confess. I am sure you understand this better than I do, considering all the experience you have.

Because he wasn’t a police officer, the young man spoke with no reservation. Each word was filled with contempt for someone with a criminal record.

Zheng Yan: How can I confess to something I haven’t done!

Young man: Stop with the useless defiance. Have you thought about how your son would feel? Maybe when you left Stellis for a fresh start, he still had a sliver of hope for you. But if he knew how much of a coward you were, how you were trying to escape the consequences of your actions, I bet he would wish he never had someone like you as his father. You see, all you fathers are like this. You claim that you have your children’s best interests at heart, but in reality you are nothing but selfish!

Zheng Yan: That’s not true!

Zheng Yan pounded the table, but nothing could stop the man’s scathing words. The young man was still speaking, but Zheng Yan could no longer hear it. Once again, he recalled Xiao Zhuo’s sobbing face.

“I don’t want a bad person like you as my dad!”

“He would wish he never had someone like you as his father.”

The two voices wove together until they seemed to come from one person, and Zheng Yan couldn’t take it any longer.

Zheng Yan: Shut up! You’re lying! There’s no way… Xiao Zhuo is my son, there’s no way he wouldn’t want his dad!

Young man: Who would acknowledge a father who brings nothing but shame?

The man’s voice seemed to get sharper and sharper. Zheng Yan wished he could cover his ears but was unable to. With tears and snot streaming down his face, he knew he looked a complete mess already, but he just wanted the man to shut up.

Zheng Yan: Shut up! Shut up!

Young man: There you go again, trying to run away. How utterly humiliating it is for a son to have a father like you!

Would confessing to the crime shut that man up? He just had to confess, and that man would shut up. Then he would confess – to the murder or to whatever other crimes, he would confess to them all.

Zheng Yan: I… I did it. I confess.

Young man: Now if only you had done that earlier.

Completely numb, Zheng Yan didn’t even know what he was saying. He mechanically pressed his thumbprint to the document with his confession, signing it. Then, as if possessed, he looked again toward the young man.

Young man: *sigh*

The man hadn’t left yet. Of course the victor would want to stay behind to examine his spoils.

Sensing Zheng Yan’s gaze, the man looked back unflinchingly.

[11:11] [screen blacks out]

Zheng Yan vaguely recalled a nature documentary he had once watched with Xiao Zhuo back in Stellis. The eyes of a cheetah were visible from where it was silently hiding. It wasn’t that it had no goal, but rather that it had already determined its plan.

[11:19] Themis Law Firm

The sun was still high in the sky, but Zheng Yan’s narrative was so expressive that I felt like I was really in that dark, damp interrogation room.

Kiki: Do you think this Zheng Yan is telling the truth?

Kiki clearly felt the same way I did, as she subconsciously rubbed her arms and shuddered.

Kiki: Our current justice system is so refined that I don’t believe a confession could be induced or coerced… but his story is just so horribly realistic. It’s hard not to believe him.

MC: Right. Even if he were coerced to confess during the interrogation… There’s still a lengthy trial afterwards, where Zheng Yan would have plenty of opportunities to retract his confession. If there were no evidence whatsoever, how could he get such a long sentence based only on some botched false charges? But still, he doesn’t seem like one of those suspects who puts on act in order to be exonerated…

As a lawyer, we had seen countless suspects who kept up the crocodile tears until they were faced with ironclad evidence, then finally confessed.  As a result, it was critical for us to learn how to distinguish those who were putting on a show from those who were sincere. But his words had even stirred experienced professionals like us, let alone the vast majority of the public in the comments. Immediately, the comments toward the person who forced the confession became vicious and hateful, the words they used downright vitriolic. 

MC: Pain and despair aren’t difficult for a criminal to feign, but fabricating other characters in a story is much harder. You can practically feel the pressure from the psychology consultant that he described. If he hadn’t personally met the man, then considering his rash personality, it would be very hard for him to describe him so vividly.

Kiki: Vivid? I didn’t really feel that way, I just thought that person sounded scary. Maybe it’s because you’re with Dr. Richter, who’s also a psychologist. You’ve seen so much of his work that the story affected you more.

Kiki was just making an offhand remark, but it had given an outlet to the discomfort I was feeling. It was impossible to ignore the connection after the mentions of Svart, psychology consults, and those comments about his father. And yet I was unable to associate my image of Vyn with that person who trampled all over someone’s mental defenses. There was no way that the Vyn I knew could be an immoral person who stereotyped others and lodged personal attacks.

MC: Maybe you’re right…

Zheng Yan was still tearfully describing what he experienced in prison and how he returned to Stellis to find both his wife and son had passed away. I could faintly hear police sirens in the background. It seemed that the police had arrived at the scene, and the situation was changing rapidly. Zheng Yan, however, was hopelessly consumed by his own fury.

Zheng Yan: At first when I got out of prison, I just wanted to forget about everything that had happened and be together with my family. But I no longer had a family. At first I just wanted to take my own life and end it all, but I never thought that… I’d come across news of that psychology consultant. I never thought that he would actually come to Stellis, and even become a famous professor at Stellis University.

As Zheng Yan recounted his enemy’s personal information, it wasn’t clear whether he could predict the waves that those details would make.

Zheng Yan: The person who harmed me is out there living a great life, and here I am, an innocent man made into a criminal! How is the world so unfair!

Each sentence crashed into me like a tidal wave. Dimly, I guessed what he was going to say next, but I felt I could no longer think.

Zheng Yan: I know that if I say his name on livestream, it might be considered slander. But I’m willing to take responsibility for everything that I say. I’ll pay the price, no matter what it is. It’s not like I have anything left to lose!

Zheng Yan paused before facing the camera head-on, as if making a declaration of war.

Zheng Yan: It took a lot of work to find out what that consultant is called nowadays.

If he hadn’t spoken out on this kind of platform, maybe the situation could still be salvaged. But here, like an arrow released from a bow, there was no turning back.

Zheng Yan: His name… is Vyn Richter!

With a “whoosh,” that arrow sliced through the air, piercing me right between my eyes.

[END PART ONE]

[PART TWO]

(1) Xiao (小) is a prefix to make a nickname out of the name Zhuo (卓)

(2) “Custody Limit” Big Data Lab entry (under Academia>Law): A custody limit is the legal time limit that an accused person can be detained while under investigation, prosecution, or trial. Under Svart law, the police can arrest a suspect for up to 48 hours. If the suspect isn’t formally charged within the time limit, they must be released. The time limit can be approved for extension, but cannot exceed 96 hours.

[palskippah]

Hmmmm

Preg!Mario but hes in his cat or tanooki suit >:3

Hi!

Anon you're the smartest of the anons ever and also thanks for giving me an excuse to feel less embarrassed of posting preg cat Mario here ajskdjak

Here's some ideas regarding the cat suit when Mario's preggy bc about the tanuki suit I've got like one:

-When Mario's with the cat suit, his body becomes cat-like (surprise :0 omg) and that means he's much more flexible, so he really likes to use the suit when he feels overwhelmed at how much he can't do now that his pregnancy's so advanced. When he's a cat he can stretch like he wants, his belly doesn't feel as cumbersome and he can even loaf for a lil' while (until it becomes uncomfortable, and he has to change positions).

>It's for those reasons that, let's say that at the last weeks of pregnancy, Mario sleeps at night with the suit on. He sleeps soundly and wakes up feeling very rested, never mind whichever weird position he was in, he feels great.

>Now this is a problem for Peach's sleeping, because since Mario's able to pull weirder positions to sleep in, she often finds herself with a very pregnant cat just sleeping on top of her and snoring the loudest he ever has. The whole night. She doesn't say much about it, she's glad that Mario is resting and sleeping well, because before they figured out the Super Bell, he couldn't move much when sleeping, since any change in position could alter his comfort. He could be laying in his side, and if he tips a bit too forward his belly starts pulling at his back and makes it ache, but if he tips too backwards, the weight of the babies makes him feel short of breath- so basically he can't do anything without feeling discomfort.

>Before Mario was pregnant, he moved everywhere too when he slept at night, but Peach could easily hold him and pin him down and whenever he moved, she just hugged him and manhandled him to her own comfort, he always slept so deeply that he didn't really notice that he was being thrown around like a doll. BUT it's much harder when the small guy is pregnant with twins, it isn't just harder to move him since he's heavier, but also, she doesn't want to cause him discomfort nor jostle the babies too much. She doesn't want to move him around this time either, and yeah, she could just scoot away from Mario, but he always unconsciously looks around for her body to get closer. So, Peach stays right in the middle of the bed, it's much better being uncomfortable there, than at a little corner where she's still going to have Mario right over her.

-About tanuki Mario, the fact that they gain some weight when they have the Super Leaf was not pulled from my heart, the source is here SJDKSJ from Super Mario Broth's twitter. Also, I think it was the racoon power-up, but honestly I don't get the difference between that one and the tanuki one hwdwh

>So, he just feels a bit less agile with the tanuki suit on, so he doesn't use it as much unless necessary- prefers the cat suit the most :y

-One morning Peach finally snaps, and pretty much yells at Mario that she can't take it any longer and she's so sleepy. Mario jumped in place from her outburst but kept listening silently while she rambled about how Mario stays almost on top of her ALL night and he wouldn't let her fall asleep and it's been so many nights already and if she goes another night without sleeping, she'll go crazy- and when she's breathing to get her air back after all that, he says almost shyly, why don't you use a Super Bell too?

>And Peach pauses to look at him and then at the ceiling in such a deep disappointment directed to herself that Mario feels bad for having to resist the urge to laugh. Why didn't I think of that-? she asks herself, raising a hand as if ready to smack her own forehead, but then she redirects the hand and points a finger at Mario, You- I think the pregnancy brain is contagious, she mutters, with a crazed look in her eyes that completely comes from not getting her usual eight hours of sleep each night. And now Mario can't resist the giggle that left him.

>From then on, each night both sleep soundly, yippie!!

-Btw I love drawing sleeping characters with drool, it's like they're having a really good sleep aksdjsaj

-BTW look at the first drawing I made of tanuki Mario last night, to figure out how it was JSKSJD the silly

-ALSO, it was Peach who gave the solution initially askjdasd

[Mario's laying on his side partially while complaining about his back, Peach comes up with the solution of the Super Bell, and then there's Cat Mario deeply asleep in the same position as before aksjdsa]

[ace-and-ranty]

Worth nothing is that this specific job was also giving me anxiety because:

It required me to take phone calls

It required me to ask a coworker to do every little thing, so I spent a great deal of my time having to bug another human being, and it was HELL.

So I just recently quit a job.

It was relatively chill, with pretty good pay for the amount of work involved. But see, before that job, I've scheduled my own work hours for every job I've ever had. Since I worked mainly translation, well, clients don't care when you're sat down in front of the computer working, as long as they get things by deadline.

The fact that this job had specific working hours, during which I was expected to have my butt sat at the computer, was driving me insane.

It gave me the kind of low-level but constant anxiety that is the bane of my existence. It's the kind of anxiety where I cannot disconnect, I cannot relax, because I know in X hours I need to be at the job, and I hated it so much I, an extremely non-confrontational people pleaser, scrapped together the gumption to quit.

Why am I telling you all of this. You wonder. Well. Because for years now I have wondered, on and off, if maybe, perhaps, I'm like, a little bit autistic? I feel insane, in that I don't relate to a lot of the struggles autistic people often mention, but I feel just weird enough, just a-bit-to-the-left enough that I don't feel neurotypical, and I don't know what's going on there.

And well, one of the struggles I never connected to is "need for routine" because hum, no, actually, I've never really felt the need for a lot of routine. But oh? What's this? Now there's an expectation for how I gotta use my time, so my schedule is out of my control? And it's making me itch out of my fucking skin? How curious??

All to say, yeah, I don't know what's going on under the hood. But thank God for flexible working hours.

[minotaur-asterion]

I put this little ramble elsewhere, but I wanna put it here too, because it’s 3 in the morning, I consider myself- as the cool kids call it- cooking, and I can’t sleep on account of Princess headmate (they are complaining about not having enough arms):

The Long Quiet was given a role like the Shifting Mound, but they abandoned this role once they decided to abandon the Good Ending. How could they have both the role and free will in the context of a game? These expectations, a pre-made perception, ended up manifesting into Cold: the slayer. He’s a shell of a god, an empty mask stuck with all the hopes and dreams and goals that had been placed on the Long Quiet’s shoulders

Unlike the other voices, he’s only really “helpful” before he surfaces, and his helpfulness is… limited, to a few things: slaying the Princess and not feeling any of the fallout. Once those purposes are fulfilled, he only slows you down. He’s a tool that becomes cumbersome once it’s no longer needed. He’s a blade that thirsts for something to sharpen its edge, that protests being put away to rust. But what can you use it on once its original use becomes obsolete?

Could one of the reasons he considers himself so special be because he understands, in a way, that he’s the very weapon raised against the Princess and driven into her heart? The blade is imperative, after all; you can’t save the world without it. He’s one of the “important” pieces in this game, an indispensable piece. He’s crucial. But weapons don’t have emotions, empty masks feel nothing. Even lead roles are blank slates for someone else to fill…

I think he’s very “living weapon,” honestly, and I think we should do more with this

[hazbinshusk]

Sexting and sounds for Husk

sexting — do they like sexting their partner(s)? do they ever send nudes? do they like receiving nudes? do they find sexting more or less difficult/fun than curating sexual experiences in real life? are they any different while sexting than they are during real life sexual experiences?

I honestly think sexting isn't for husk, and honestly a big part of that is just that he hates texting. his claws make it cumbersome and annoying, and texting wasn't even invented until after he'd been dead for at least a decade.

it takes him so long to tap out a message (and he gets so irritated with his claws) that it kills the mood for him pretty quick.

he'd much rather call you if you're doing any kind of phone sex. getting to hear your reactions to his words is way more addictive than words on a screen. he'll tell you exactly what he wants to do with you, or relive a previous experience with you, or just tell you what he wants you to do to yourself... and that velvety voice? oh, it's almost as good as having him there with you.

he's probably not going to send you any nudes - partly because of the same issues as texting, and partly because he's not a fan of his body as it is. you send him nudes though? especially while he's stuck behind the bar? oh, you're gonna get it later...

sounds — what sounds do they make during sex? do they laugh a lot during sex? are they chatty during sex?

ohhhh, the sounds this man makes... seriously, I would pay real money for them to include some keith david horny noises in canon.

he'll start off real low and smooth and whisper so much praise to you about how you feel wrapped around him.

he'll purr during too, and if he does that while he's going down on you... holy shit, it'll feel amazing.

husk will get more gruff and rough-voiced as he gets closer, louder in his need as he approaches orgasm.

he's going to talk you through anything new or different, and make sure you're enthusiastic about everything you do together.

send me a headcanon prompt and a character (blitz, stolas, husk, angel)

[limarieb]

it's so sweet knowing that you love me (though we don't need to say it to each other)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You were born completely deaf, unable to fully learn how to read lips and constantly finding your hearing aids uncomfortable. On your venture for coffee, you find yourself overwhelmed (to the point of escape) when you are being spoken to by a (very pretty) woman who you cannot understand. Confusion and chaos arise on both ends. You return that same week, ready for the hateful confrontation that might take place. Fortunately, that "hateful" confrontation does not happen.

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: this little collection of one-shots is still one of my favorite things to think about occasionally... perhaps i will consider making a third part if you give me some of your ideas on what the third part should consist of...

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click Here for Part 2 to the 'Sweet' One-Shot Collection

...

From an early age, you realized that you were different from other people. When you would go to various places with your parents, random strangers always tried to talk to you. You couldn’t hear them, of course, considering the fact that you were born entirely deaf; adults and children alike never seem to understand that, though, and continued their quests of trying to get you to talk with your mouth rather than your hands.

Due to your innate inability to hear, you grew up learning sign language as your primary language. It wasn’t until you were four years old when you were lost in the supermarket, frantically trying to find your parents, that you realized the majority of people do not comprehend your language. Growing up in upstate New York, there weren’t exactly many people like you. There were not many people that felt ostracized by their community for something beyond their control, nor were there many individuals jumping at the opportunity to make accommodations for situations like yours. Thus, the most you were able to do in terms of communication was writing and reading in English and ‘speaking’ in sign language. Unlike some other people who were deaf, you were never able to learn how to read others’ lips, which frustrated you to no end.

And, honestly? It sucked. It was a lonely experience, and you spent many nights of your childhood (and adulthood) crying to your parents about it. It broke their hearts seeing their child experiencing such a cumbersome set of emotions and experiences that most do not even witness in a lifetime, and you knew they carried a pang of guilt about it all. You wish they didn’t, though, because you know it’s not their fault and that they have been trying their best to help you thrive despite your challenges. 

It wasn’t all bad, darkness, and negativity. In fact, there are many moments where you found your deafness as a sort of power or unique ability (instead of an inability). It allowed you to sense things differently. Your favorite way to decompress was feeling certain textures, especially the yarn blanket your mother made years ago, and putting on loud music so the vibrations would flow through the medium of the speakers and into your body via your fingers or your feet. Something about it all was therapeutic.

You received a pair of hearing aids as a child, but you did not necessarily prefer them. In circumstances where there were a lot of people in a given room, the sensations would become quite painful and confusing for your brain to untangle and compute all at once. Ergo, you only really use them on the occasion where you know prior that there were gonna be few people and low amounts of background noise, like when you are working one-on-one with a client.

Given that you were going to the local coffee place, you elected to leave hearing aids at home. You use your phone to place a mobile order, effectively removing the barrier of needing to talk to an employee to order. You walked into the shop and began your path towards the pick-up area. Reaching and sorting through the other orders, you eventually come to the realization that yours is not there. You figured that the staff was simply behind on crafting the drinks, so you wait for a few minutes.

As you anxiously played with your fingers, one of the employees approaches you. She was slightly taller than you, but she was also undeniably beautiful. Her long auburn hair was tied back, held in place by a mere tie. You caught a brief glance of her eyes, quickly noticing how green they were. In the presence of such a pretty lady, your anxiety began to rise. She gave a shy smile and began moving her lips to form words. Due to your overly anxious state and inability to read her lips, you rapidly became overwhelmed. You look behind her to see her coworkers behind the counter snickering at you two. Immediately, you assumed they were laughing solely at you, talking about how the only reasonable explanation for your lack of response was stupidity beyond any repair. 

So, you turned around and walked out of the door. You felt so embarrassed , more than you have ever felt since high school. All you wanted to do was go home and decompress.

Wanda stood there in a state of shock. One second, she was there trying to explain to you how she couldn’t make your drink because they were out of oat milk; the next, you were gone.

Did I say something wrong? Wanda thought to herself as she watched you escape her workplace.

Hanging her head in shame, she retreated to behind the counter where her coworkers, Bucky and Sam, were still laughing at her failed attempt to have a conversation with you. The brunette has watched you for a while from afar; she knew your favorite drink like the back of her hand, and she always tried to make sure your favorite spot in the corner of the café was kept neat and tidy for you. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to walk on this planet. She would give up anything to know you as something more than just a customer.

Wanda let out a sigh of frustration mixed with sadness, leaning against the counter with her head in her hands. She finally broke the monotony of the undying laughter, “Would the two of you stop laughing? It’s not funny. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”

“Cheer up, little witch,” Bucky started. “There are more fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want other fish, though. I want her,” she tried to reason. “She’s so pretty, Bucky. And, after months, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her, and she just walked away from me.”

The latter part made Sam raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean she just walked away from you? Did you say something that could’ve upset her?”

“I don’t think so,” Wanda tried to think back. “I was just starting to explain how we were out of oat milk, so I couldn’t make her drink. But, before I could even give her some alternative choices, she just… left.”

Sam let out a hum, unsure of what exactly to reply. The three employees went back to work, yet Wanda was definitely not thinking about her encounter with you while making the various orders.

A few days had passed since the incident. Even though you vowed never to return to the coffee place (your favorite coffee joint), a conversation with your mother left you feeling more empowered and confident about it all. Her facial expressions and rapid hand motions displaying her anger at the workers forced a smile out of you. 

Thus, you decided that you were going to return to the coffee place the next morning. You repeated the same mobile order but decided to keep your phone in hand in case you needed to type something mean and vulgar at the employees who left you feeling humiliated the other day.

You grasp the handle and pull the door forward, granting yourself entry into the once comforting setting.

With a fleeting glance to the counter, your eyes briefly meet hers. It was too late to turn back now, so you cautiously walked to the familiar pick-up area. However, your drink seems to be missing again today. Great.

You look up to see the same woman from before warily approaching you, and it takes everything you have in your body to not flee the scene. Similar to the previous time she walked up to you, the girl began to speak again. She did not get very far before you opened the notes app on your phone and started to furiously type. By the expression on her face, you could tell she was surprised at the sudden action but waited for you to stop typing. 

After a minute passed, you finally turned the phone to show your message to the woman:

Hi, there. I’m deaf, and I don’t have hearing aids on at this moment. Anything that you’ve said, I did not hear… at all. 

You watched with patience as the other girl slowly and carefully skimmed the message. Her head tilted and her mouth opened to form an O-like shape, and you could pinpoint this moment with exact accuracy as the moment she realized that you were not (and were never) purposefully ignoring her — you couldn’t hear her; that’s why you must have left suddenly.

She shyly smiled and nodded towards your phone. With a quirked eyebrow, you offer it to her. She happily takes it from you to begin typing a message of her own:

Hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize before… I’m sure it must’ve been frustrating to just have someone talking AT you rather than WITH you. Is that why you left suddenly last time?

You weren’t really sure why you were surprised by her message, specifically the last part. Did she remember? After thinking for a few minutes, you form a reply:

Yeah, I guess… I was just very overwhelmed, and I saw some of the others laughing. I just felt bad, idk. So, I left.

You definitely did not expect the frown that appeared on her face when you walked in there today. She pointed to the phone, and you gave it to her once more. 

I’m sorry… if it makes you feel any better, they weren’t laughing at you or anything. Actually, they were laughing at me, not you.

As you read the new message, your face visibly contorted into confusion and disbelief.

What do you mean?

With the phone in her hands again, she typed: 

I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, Y/N. The last time you were here, I finally tried to talk to you - at least about how we were out of oat milk for your drink. I guess they found you walking away without saying anything VERY comical. 

It was your turn to be in a complete and utter state of shock.

Oh… Wait, how do you know my name? 

She wrote her reply fairly quick: 

Who do you think makes your drink every time? ;)

As she passes the phone back to you, she personifies the wink in real life. Immediately, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

Well, I feel like it’s fair to ask for your name now - an 'eye for an eye’ type of thing.

She subconsciously bites her bottom lip as she slid the phone over with her reply:

Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.

Something about her name and connecting it to her made you feel… light. 

Well, Wanda, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I? Why did you want to talk to me before? Am I that intimating?

It was her turn to fall victim to blushing, reading your questions regarding her apprehension of talking to you.

Intimidating? No, not really. Really pretty, though? Can neither confirm nor deny.

You released a small, quiet chuckle at her compliment; Wanda, on the other hand, has to remember for a second how to breathe because she heard you for the first time. She loved it, and she only wants to hear more. 

Give me your phone?

You sit there in confusion but comply with her unspoken request nonetheless. You give you her unlocked phone again, except you notice there’s no new message in your notes app conversation. You raise your eyebrow, showing you don’t really understand what just happened. Wanda, however, just winks at you again and slowly returns to her spot behind the counter. 

You never found out what she did at that moment on your phone until you receive a text a few minutes later from a foreign contact labeled “Wanda ;)”:

Wanda ;)  [9:47 AM]

Hey, sorry to cut our convo short - I had to help the customers. Meet me for dinner after work? 6 pm? :)

How could you say no to a request from her? You look up from your phone to see her biting her lip, hiding a smile as she makes drinks for other people. You look back down at your own device to respond:

You [9:48 AM]

I’ll be there. :)

You don’t remember being treated with such care and understanding before, especially by who was merely a stranger moments ago and has seemingly little experience with a person who is deaf. Wanda was different, though — a good different. She initiated a feeling of happiness and freedom within you that had not been experienced prior to that day. Most people did not consider trying to help you or finding different ways to talk to you, but Wanda did; moreover, she did so because she wanted to — she wanted to actually know you. 

It was increasingly evident that you were beyond infatuated with her. The night went so well, in fact, that you changed her contact from “Wanda ;)” to “Wanda <3” after you met her for your date that same evening.

End.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eleven: i am always running back to you | read chapter ten

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: SO SORRY.... it was the horrors (midterms). hope this chapter makes up for it because boy it is a lot of fun

The rest of the evening passes slowly.

It does nothing for your nerves, truthfully, but you keep yourself preoccupied with Wade. He crawls now and that leaves him wanting to explore every space possible. So, while Wally runs out for dinner and Linda wraps up a meeting with her editor, you watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dinner is deep-dish pizza—directly from Chicago. It’s all very indulgent, the way Wally can do things like that; he spoils you in that regard and you tell him as much as you wash dishes and he puts them away.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he says, shooting you a small smile. “Besides, it’s for me, too.”

And you can tell that’s true by the four empty boxes of pizza that he ate, with two for you and Linda. 

But still. When he leaves…

It’s not just that that you’re going to miss. With or without the speed, you’re going to miss him. Him, Linda, and little Wade.

Despite not saying that—because you don’t want to be a downer, because their home is in Keystone City, not here, and you don’t want to be selfish like that—he senses the shift in your mood.

“You know,” he starts, “me and Lin were thinking…”

“That’s never good.”

He nudges you gently, grinning. You shake your head, smiling, too. You pass him a freshly-washed plate and he dries it. 

“Well, wait until you hear what we were thinking about.”

“What?”

“We think you should visit us every now and then.”

The thought that they want you around is warming, as usual. But…

“I mean, I would love to, Wally, but I can’t really afford that… Maybe, after I see how everything adds up during the fall, I can come for the holidays or something. But…”

He shakes his head. “Come on, kiddo. You think we’d say that and leave it up to you?”

“I don’t expect—”

“I know. But you should. We want to do whatever we can to see you. You aren’t the only one that’s going to miss something when we leave, you know. That’s why we’re doing this. Besides,” he grins at you, lightening up. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get you to Keystone in under a minute right now.”

Considering that Linda has told you that his speed is efficient but leaves one with a horrible bout of nausea and vertigo—at least in the beginning; she’s barely affected these days—you feel some mild apprehension.

But those things are temporary. You can withstand that, if only to see them again.

“Or,” he goes on, “we can fly you out, but that would honestly be pretty cumbersome and would also take too long.”

“It’s a plane, Wally. That is the fastest form of transportation we have in this country.”

He sniffs. “I’m the fastest form of transportation we have in this country. In the world! One of them, anyway.”

“Well, that’s how we normal human beings function. Not everyone can run faster than the speed of light.” 

“Not everyone should,” he agrees. “I’d lose my appeal. That would suck.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, is that a yes or—?”

“Alright,” you relent, smiling. “How often are we talking?”

He smiles a tad bashfully. “Once or twice a month? You can come on the weekends… Just—you know. I know you’re gonna be busy with classes but…”

“It sounds like I should be getting a nice break every month if we do that. I mean, I can’t promise I won’t have work—”

“Just as long as you’re around, kid. That’s all we want.”

Your face warms at the earnestness in his words, embarrassed, though you know you really shouldn’t be. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been in this game too long to try and dance around feelings. Hopefully your boy will learn that, too.”

“You aren’t wrong,” you mutter, shutting off the water and drying your hands, making a mental reminder to put on some lotion before they get annoyingly dry from the hot water and dish soap. “I’m just not… used to that.”

He shrugs, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. “Like I said. In a world like ours… it’s important.”

You don’t disagree. But you can’t rail too hard on Tim. Questionable decisions regarding his feelings aside, the both of you only came to your senses after he had a close-call today. What does that say about you, that he has to nearly die for you to realize you need to see him again? Need to clear the air? 

It’s human, you think. So very terribly human of you.

It’s not like you’re unappreciative of him in your life but… you know this dance and song. You only realize what you have when you lose it. Look at your parents. You’ve slipped right now but you’ll fix it. You’ll make sure he knows how much he means to you.

But more importantly, right now…

“You guys… mean a lot to me, too.” You turn, seeing Linda pause near the island, and meet her brown eyes and even though it makes your face hot and the words get stuck in your throat, you force them out, underpinned with what you hope they can tell is sincerity. “You do. So much.”

Your throat tightens and you duck your head as your eyes burn. 

Hard to quantify. Hard to put a label on what they mean to you.

But you know that much. That they mean the world to you. 

Warm, strong arms come around you, squeezing you tight. You sniffle when you feel Linda come up behind you, squeezing you, too.

It’s an emotional day, you decide. For all of you. 

So, you take a long shower to try and pull yourself together, then head to bed, bidding Wally and Linda goodnight.

You don’t intend to fall asleep when you crawl into your bed. It’s better to stay up, to wait for Tim to get here. But the day’s events start weighing down on you as you curl up beneath the blankets.

You try valiantly to stay awake by scrolling on your phone but it’s a Sisyphean task to do so. As your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you know it will be a task that you fail as you stop fighting and give in to sleep.

It’s only the vibration of your phone that rouses you. 

Groping for it, the display is obscenely bright in the darkness of your room. But the text waiting for you is unmistakable, impossible to miss.

i’m here

Suddenly recalling what you and Tim had agreed upon, you shoot up in bed, ignoring the head rush the action gives you. 

The window that leads out to the fire escape is right next to your bed, covered by curtains. You toss your phone aside, rolling out of the warm cocoon of blankets; the AC in this place works well, a little too well, you think groggily as your bare feet connect with cold wood floors. 

You shove aside the curtains and though you know who is waiting for you, that it is Tim, just Tim, your best friend, the still-not-fully-awake part of you clenches up in fear, thinking it might be Batman that is moving in the shadows, only barely illuminated by the full moon. But you know better than that.

It helps that your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, recognizing the figure crouched in your fire escape. Dressed in… oddly enough, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. Completed with a plain black domino mask—not the usual one he wears, more akin to Robin, save for the color—that obscures the blue eyes you know and love.

You reach for the window. Well-oiled and taken care of by the owners, it is virtually silent as it slides open. 

Muggy July heat rushes in, chasing away the cold.

Without the window and with your vision quickly clearing from bleariness, you can really take him in. The tension in his body, the way a breeze ruffles through dark hair, the twitch of his hands to you before they clench into fists. Waiting. 

For you. 

Your throat thickens painfully when your eyes snag on the white gauze taped to the left side of his neck. 

Just a graze, Steph told you. But he lost a bit of blood anyway and his neck… if it had been the right side, would he not be here right now? Maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s his neck, there are so many important arteries running through there. 

If anything else had happened, if he’d moved even a little bit, he wouldn’t be here.

That realization, coupled with the overwhelming emotions at seeing him again since everything, pushes you over the edge.

Your eyes burn with tears. You reach forward, ignoring the soreness in your belly, one hand grabbing his wrist and tugging him right into the circle of your arms. 

That breaks the stalemate. He goes quickly, arms sliding around you as the first of your tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“Tim…”

He holds you tighter, impossibly warm, letting out a shuddery breath and whispering your name, too, everything inside you shivering at the sound, at the warmth that wraps up the syllables of your name. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“You were shot.”

An exhale of a laugh. It sounds shaky with emotion.

“Technically, I was grazed.”

“Tim.”

He presses his nose to your hair, hand stroking up your back.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead. “I wasn’t going to die before I got to see you. No way.”

You sniffle. The two of you are quiet, speaking lowly, but you’re suddenly too aware of the other window on the fire escape, the one for Linda and Wally’s room. You don’t want to wake them—or god forbid, Wade—so you reluctantly extract yourself from his arms, tugging him again.

He follows easily, sliding through the window with a grace you aren’t used to. He shuts the window silently behind him, banishing the muggy air that had leaked inside. You wipe away your tears, attempting to piece yourself together. 

As he turns back to you, hesitantly now, the air conditioner clicks on, and a second later, cold air starts blowing into your room. It should help cover your voices a little bit.

For a moment, it is silent. 

Tim shifts on his feet across from you. The domino mask renders him impervious. Impossible to read without seeing his eyes.

But not totally impossible. The way he bites his lip doesn’t just draw your attention to his mouth, tempting, traitorous thoughts briefly crossing your mind, but it also clues you into his nervous state. 

“I’m sorry.”

He speaks first, blurting the words out, seeming almost surprised at the way they escaped him before he decides to go with it, doubling down on it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you, whispering your name. “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For coming to you as Red Robin instead of myself. For everything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

You were in that position, too. You didn’t fuck it up this badly but… you each had your parts to play. No one is blameless here.

“I just,” he stops, looking away, hands clenching at his sides. “I want to be friends. If anything else. I want that.”

If anything else.

You understand what he is saying here.

He isn’t here under any pretenses. Isn’t expecting you to take him in with open arms. Would be fine as friends.

Well, you don’t want that.

“Tim.” 

He looks at you. You extend a hand. Waiting. Not demanding.

Slowly, he comes to you. Palm sliding against yours. Warm and a little clammy, calloused but still soft. 

A few inches of space separate you when he stops. 

This close, you can feel the heat of him. Smell his shampoo, soft and fragrant. Eucalyptus. 

You squeeze his hand once then let go. 

He and Red Robin are two sides of the same coin. There is no Tim Drake without Red Robin, you think. Not right now. 

Maybe it’ll change, down the line. One part of you selfishly hopes so.

You’ll always want him. But as Red Robin, the risk of losing him triples and you are greedy enough to want to mitigate it. The same with Steph. Even with Wally, who is considerably more durable. All of them, duty-bound, honor-bound. You cannot ask that of them. 

Right now, though, you think you can make that demand. At least temporarily.

You reach for him. Pausing when your hands near his face. But he doesn’t move. Just looks down at you and you wonder if he can hear your heart, with how hard, how loudly, it pounds in your chest.

You have to be certain.

So, when your fingers finally touch the smooth material of the mask, before trying to lift it, you ask, in a whisper, “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes, some emotion you don’t know underlying his voice, one that makes your face warm and your heart skip a beat.

Your fingers find the edge, slowly, gently peeling it up. It peels and peels and peels until finally, it detaches into your hands. Almost flimsy now but with a certain weight. 

That’s not what retains your attention, though.

It’s him. It’s always him.

Tim’s eyes are closed, the tiniest of wrinkles found between his brows.

You imagine what it must be like to him. Letting you do that. Peel back the final layer of him once and for all. Letting you see him. Tim. Your Tim.

Keeping the domino mask loosely grasped in one hand, your other reaches for him, your thumb finding the wrinkle between his brows. It smooths out instantly at your touch and his eyes flutter open.

There they are.

It’s a shade of blue that haunts your dreams most nights.

Usually a lighter, softer color in the light, something like cornflowers, but right now, they’re midnight sky blue, looking at you with a heavy kind of affection, warm and unbridled. 

Your hand settles on his cheek. He leans into the touch. Your thumb strokes over the sensitive skin under his eye. Where dark circles mar the skin, exhaustion finally clear in his face.

You smile sadly. “You look tired, Timmy.”

“Last couple weeks,” he swallows, “have been… rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiles. It’s a small thing but no less beautiful to your eyes. 

Then he sobers up, gazing at you, pained. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was an idiot.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “We both were.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you speak before he can. 

“It’s true. You know that. We didn’t handle this like we should but it’s… it’s in the past. We can’t change it. We just have to move forward.”

A slow nod, then his eyes flicker to your hand, still between you two, still holding onto the domino mask. He takes it from you. 

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not for him to toss it away, landing somewhere in the darkness, a near silent sound. 

“Tim—“

“It’ll never come between us again,” he whispers and your breath catches at his words; his hands find yours, pulling the one on his cheek into his own, squeezing. “I promise.”

You take a second to compose yourself, letting out a slow breath.

“I believe you,” you finally say. “And… no more lies. Please. Tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want to be there for you, for all of it.”

“It’s going to hurt.” 

Not a protest. Just a statement. A warning. 

“So, it’s even more important for me to be there.”

He swallows, eyes searching yours. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So… we’re okay?”

“No.”

His face falls. “Whatever it is… I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” he promises. 

“Not like that.”

He stiffens up, breath catching as he understands what you mean. He looks down at you, shock clear. Understanding but not truly believing. That won’t do.

“I love you, Tim. Not just as a friend but…”

You’ve said it to them both. I love you. And this ‘I love you’ isn’t better than the one you tell Steph, than the one you told him for the first time, back when your feelings were still strictly platonic. It doesn’t mean something more, something deeper, something elevated just because it’s romantic. But it’s different. In what you want. In what you long for. 

He whispers your name. 

You let out a slow breath. “And if you want that, too, then…”

“Of course I do,” he breathes, letting go of your hands to cup your face, bringing you closer. “Of course I do. There’s nothing else, no one else, I want. I just… I never wanted to assume.”

“I know.”

“But if you’re on board then… then we can try it out.”

It feels more like ‘trying it out,’ though. Despite the uncertainty, the whirlwind of emotions, everything that has happened, finally talking it out, finally laying everything out on the table… you’ve found solid ground. A foundation you can build upon. 

It is no mere crush. No simple infatuation.

You are in love with Tim Drake. Plain and simple.

And he is in love with you, too.

You close your eyes, fingers curling around his wrists. After a beat, he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, too, you know,” he whispers. “I have for a long time.”

Your face is hot, flushed with heat, your heart pounding. You feel so light, like you might fall up, untethered by gravity and floaty from the cotton candy-sweet warmth unspooling in your chest, clogging your veins and the arteries of your heart. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He kisses you.

Gently at first, tenderly, lips warm, soft, tasting faintly of spearmint. You feel like you might melt into a puddle of goo at it, at knowing it’s Tim who is kissing you so sweetly, making your knees feel a little weak.

You shuffle closer. He inhales sharply at you pressing into his space, curling around you to close the final bits of distance. It turns the kiss a little fevered, a little hungry, a little desperate.

You’ve missed him so much. You can’t stop yourself from whispering that, pulling away to do so.

He shudders at your words, lips pressing to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, and you open yourself up to him, too willing, too happy to let him have you like this.

He keeps saying it. Whatever you want. But he can have whatever he wants from you, too. Anything. Everything.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck and your breath catches at the reverence in his voice. “Can you—can you say it again?”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper and it pulls another shiver from him, lips pressing to your fluttering pulse and your knees really feel like they might give out. 

Your fingers grasp the material of his jacket, tugging, and he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a mind-numbing, synapse-slowing kiss. 

You separate eventually, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath.

“Will you stay?” you ask softly.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, leaning back to press a heartachingly tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, holding onto him.

After a moment, he pulls away, shedding his jacket, draping it over the footboard. You close the curtains over your window, then crawl into bed. When Tim comes over, he tries to push you over. Not hard. A gentle—persistent—nudge to your shoulder, keeping in mind your injury, though you should tell him that it’s healing much better at nearly three weeks since it happened. Enough so that Steph said she could see about Crystal coming over to take the stitches out, just to avoid waiting at the hospital, and the bill, too. 

“Oh, hey—”

“Let me sleep there,” he urges. “I feel better if you’re furthest from the window.”

“Hero types, I swear.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and scoops you into his arms. You yelp and he shushes you. You can’t stop your giggles as he unceremoniously drops you on the other side of the bed, the one closest to the door. He crawls in after you.

“You’re going to wake them up,” he whispers but he’s grinning, too, as he slides under the covers, laying on his side.

“Who’s fault is that?” you shoot back. “Just ‘cause you and your savior complex need to be by the window—”

He muffles his snickers into the pillow, eyes closed, lips spread in a grin. Your chest warms and you wiggle closer to him. 

Tim lifts an arm so you can settle against his side. Wary of the gauze on the hollow of his throat, you settle for tucking your head underneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He strokes a hand down your back, a warm brand between your shoulder blades. Sleep isn’t far off your conscience, right at the edges of it, and with the warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace, you’re moving fast to it.

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll… you’ll be here in the morning, right?”

His arm tightens around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hair.

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

And he is. 

When you rouse an indeterminate amount of time later, awakened by the sounds of activity outside your door—Wade’s high-pitched giggles, Wally’s low murmurs to him as he feeds him breakfast, the water running in the pipes as Linda uses the bathroom—Tim is still there. With you.

Deep in sleep, still, even with the slivers of light that come in from your window and the noises coming in from outside. Probably the repercussions of his ‘rough couple weeks.’ It’s quite similar with you, if you’re being honest. Besides, you hardly mind, basking in the feel of your legs tangled together underneath the blankets, the heavy but reassuring weight of his arm around you.

You manage to pull away a little bit to look at him, blinking out the bleariness in your eyes as you rest your head on the pillow, his face a couple inches from yours. Eyes shut, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, breathing soft and slow. His hair is a mess, some parts of it flat from the pillow and sticking up in other areas. You spy a few creases from the pillow on his cheek, too. But even with that, he is still so beautiful to you.

You sigh, snuggling closer to him, shifting so you can run your fingers through his hair, your eyes falling shut again. You can stand to sleep a little while longer.

He lets out a soft, contented sigh as your fingers glide through his hair, gently taking out tangles as you go. 

You pull away after a moment, feeling sleep lapping at your senses again. 

You doze for a little while, rousing again to more noise from outside. The sound of the TV. Wally and Linda murmuring to each other. Wade giggling. 

Tim shifts, groaning quietly. The sound, rough with sleep, makes something inside you clench, sparks of heat waking you up more fully so you can watch him wake up, too.

He rolls onto his back, stretching, then sagging into the mattress. You stay curled up on your side, your calf thrown over his, watching him wake up with a small smile on your lips that you know must be horribly lovesick.

Finally, he turns to look at you, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi.”

He gives you a sleepy smile. “Hi. Watching me sleep? Weirdo.”

He still has pillow creases on his face. You reach up to trace them.

“Well, you like this weirdo.”

“I love this weirdo,” he corrects. “Guess it’s fair, considering my night job.”

“Right. Watching you sleep—which I wasn’t, by the way, I was just waiting for you to wake up—”

“Sounds an awful lot like watching me sleep—”

You grin and pinch his cheek. He grunts, halfheartedly batting your hand away and taking it in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Anyway. That’s not that big of an offense compared to, oh, I don’t know, dressing up and fighting crime each night.”

“Think that’s part of the whole ‘we love each other thing,’” he teases.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” His eyes stray from your face, to something else, nerves clear as day; too early in the morning for him to make a solid attempt at hiding them from you and well. You know him. For better and for worse.

“Mmhm?”

“I guess I should take you on a date.”

“You guess?”

He blushes, red settling high in his cheeks in a way that is… decidedly tempting. “I mean I should. If—if you want to, of course.”

“I didn’t kiss you just for kicks, you know.”

“I sure hope not,” he agrees, looking back at you, face softening. “Will you, then?”

“Of course, Timmy.”

“And maybe…” He turns, reaching for you. You go easily, your fingers still tracing the pillow creases on his cheek. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders as he turns onto his side. In the warm light of the morning, his eyes are a softer shade of blue, the one you know and love. 

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe… you’ll give me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Oh, geez.

Your face flares with heat, heart skipping a beat.

“You cornball.”

“You love it.”

Your palm finally settles on his cheek—hot to the touch, too, flush still lingering behind. You lean forward to press your lips to his forehead. He lets out a shuddery breath, arm tightening around you briefly.

“Yes, Tim,” you murmur against his skin. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, but it doesn’t like he’s thanking you for agreeing to it—at least, not just that. 

Maybe for everything. 

But— “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not… I love you. That’s all there is and that’s all there ever will be.”

You pull back, thumb stroking over his cheek. He leans forward, lips pressing gently to your cheek. Your fingers find their way into his hair, sighing contentedly as he kisses down to your jaw. 

You get so caught up in that, the knock on your door scares the shit out of you both.

Wally calls out your name. “You up, kiddo? Lin’s makin’ eggs and rice.”

Tim pulls away quickly and you sit up, your face hot.

“I’ll, um, be out in a few.” Your voice is steady, thankfully, but you can’t say much about your pulse, your heart beating out of your chest. Tim is sitting up, too, looking around the room—presumably for the mask he discarded last night. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Will Tim be joining us?”

You both freeze. 

You should’ve known better, really. Wally’s been doing this for a long time. Nothing much will slip by him. Not unless he lets it. 

Tim turns an impressive shade of red. Tempting, like it always is, but mostly, you just feel like a teenager caught red-handed with her boyfriend.

…Which isn’t too incorrect of a description.

You look at him, lost. 

He clears his throat, raising his voice to respond. “I—uh, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Wally responds cheerfully. “Hope you aren’t allergic to sesame because I don’t care and I’m not going out to get something different for you.”

“Wally!”

Tim smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not allergic.”

“Too bad,” he says. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Footsteps leave. Wally hums to himself loudly, happily. 

You and Tim look at each other for a second before a giggle escapes you. Then another. He joins you in the next second, until you two are laughing loudly, listing into each other and flopping onto the bed.

In the kitchen, even from here, you can hear Wally and Linda laughing, too.

You grin breathlessly, looking at Tim’s smiling face, and decide the embarrassment of getting caught out is worth it, if you get to have this. All of them. 

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @omfg-its-tay @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine @thatonecroc @1lellykins @jelsafan0 @hearttjason @kno-way-home @moniverse05 @bat-h-tic @ghostindeath @escapism-r-us @plnkbees @gabrielle-tia @a-candle-maker @randobeetlehouse @solaris-love @blueberrygeniejam @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @mel9630 @brb-readingurfic @thetiredtoad0-0 @a-homosexual-homosapien @deadpools-thicc-cheeks @ilovemybabes

[ask to be tagged! either in my inbox or here! ^_^]

[cherryxsapphic]

Miss Delight sfw alphabet 🎀

So I heard the children were hungry for Miss Delight content well I'm here to serve 😌

I hope y'all enjoy ♡

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, she’s very closed off and sometimes passive-aggressive because you’re unfamiliar, and she’s honestly just scared. Once you manage to coax her out of her shell (heh), she’s very touchy and wants to make sure you’re taking care of yourself to the best of your abilities. Being an anatomy teacher, she knows how much you’re supposed to be eating and sleeping, and if she finds out you’re lacking in either, you will never hear the end of it. 

She will force you into self-care and snuggle with both the most threatening grin and the kindest eyes you have ever seen. Although she herself doesn’t really need sleep, she will lie down with you just to be near you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Definitely the mom friend. She’s got snacks literally everywhere you can think of and will not hesitate to pull one out if you need/want one. In her shirt pocket, she carries granola bars and maybe a bandaid or two in case you’re accident-prone (like me oop-)

Gives the best advice too. Having relationship trouble? She's right there with solutions or just an ear to listen.

Don't know what to make for dinner? She's got cookbooks you can look through.

Want someone to come with you to the grocery store? Sure, just give her a second to grab the suitcase she calls a purse.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I like to think that despite Miss Delight’s body being mostly plastic, she still runs pretty cold, so every chance she gets, she wants to sap your warmth like a cumbersome house cat.

At night, once you lay down to go to sleep, she is all over you. You alternate between spooning and laying on each other's chests, trying to be as close to each other as possible. During the hotter months, she makes do with just holding your hand.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Homegirl absolutely cannot cook, please for the love of god, DO NOT let her in the kitchen EVER.

But besides that, Miss Delight is very good at cleaning! While you handle the cooking and do your best to help her in any way you can, especially after she deals with so many kids daily, girly deserves a rest.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Simply impossible. You would have to die before thinking about breaking up with her.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?) 

Marriage isn't really something Miss Delight would think about at first. She's happy just to be together with you because she loves you. She would still be perfectly content being your domestic partner if it never came up.

If you call her your wife, even lightheartedly, she would probably laugh along with you, but that might get the gears turning, and you would sit down to talk about it a while later.

When you propose, she wouldn’t  want a huge flashy event like at a restaurant. A romantic date night at home with her favorite meal by candlelight  would be her dream proposal.

She wouldn’t want a huge flashy ring because honestly, it's a bit much. Instead, she'd most likely go for a smaller solitaire diamond or just a simple gold wedding band.

 G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) 

Physically, she may not fully grasp just how strong she is until she hurts you by complete accident. Once she realizes, she’s incredibly apologetic and is willing to do anything to make it up to you.

Emotionally, she’s extremely fragile because of everything she’s been put through in the last ten years or so. Some days are easier than others, but other days she will be so riddled with anxiety and stress that all you can do is sit with her and let her know she's okay.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

Once she warms up to you, she’ll velcro herself to your hip. She’s spent 10 years by herself, so she is extremely touch-starved and will take advantage of all your time together. 

Because she’s mostly plastic (with the exception of her torso, which is strangely body temperature), she’s a strange combination of temperatures and textures, so it was weird to get used to at first.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would be one random night, probably after dinner. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch, not really paying attention to what's on TV.

She keeps glancing up at you and looking away, almost like she's worried about something. So, you nudge her and ask what's up.

Miss Delight is silent for a second before whispering, “I uh, I think I love you,” and immediately looks down at her nails as if trying to pretend she didn't just say that.

You’re still looking at her, and you wrap your arm around her a little tighter. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on the top of her head before whispering a soft

“I love you too.” 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Being the youngest out of all her sisters, competition over everything was seen as normal. She could handle jealousy like a pro until you came into the picture.

Now if another woman so much as breathes near you, she's pissed. If she could, she would keep you at home all to herself, but instead she will shoot that woman the nastiest glare she can muster and just will her into going away.

You'll talk about it after you get home, and she will think she did absolutely nothing wrong and was just protecting what's hers. Of course, you can't really be mad at her, so with a few kisses, she is forgiven for her mile-wide possessive streak.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) 

Imagine kissing the edge of your sink, but it presses back. She has no lips, but she’ll use her chompers to the best of her ability to give you all the kisses you deserve. Her favorite place to kiss you would be your neck cause she has a biting kink real <333

She would also enjoy neck and forehead kisses from you, especially if you're sitting in her lap so she can wrap her arms around you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 

Homegirl is a teacher, she’s gonna be the best around kiddos of any age. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) 

Usually, you would wake up alone simply because she’s an early riser and can’t stand to be idle for too long. She’ll gently shake you awake and hand over a piping hot cup of coffee, just how you like it (she hates energy drinks and scolds you if you start your day with one)

If, by some miracle, you manage to crawl out of bed before her, she loves when you rouse her with gentle butterfly kisses all over her face (bonus points if you’ve got a plate of eggs and bacon with you)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

At first, she wouldn’t really know what to do with you. Miss Delight has spent a long time just watching and patrolling, so she would continue the habit regardless of your presence there. After you two get to know each other, she starts lingering closer to your room, almost like she’s guarding you. Gradually, she’d start laying down with you and not quite sleeping, but she enjoys resting with you. It gives her a sense of normalcy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As a teacher, she knows how to share personal stuff without making it personal, if that makes sense. It would take some time to get her to open up truly, and even then, some topics are absolutely off the table.

Should you accidentally mention one of the topics she won't talk about, like how the cracks in her face got there, or her sisters, or where she happened to be in August of 1995, she'll completely shut down and won't speak for a good few hours.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You would think that because she's a school teacher, she has the patience of a saint. You'd be correct, but that only applies to little kiddos.

If you're an adult acting dumb or wasting her time on purpose, she won't hold back, and you'll probably get something between a pointed glare and an all-out verbal lashing.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or forget everything?)

Her brain is like a sponge; if she deems the topic important enough, she will absorb every bit of information she can. 

You just so happen to mention your favorite song? She'll memorize the lyrics on the same day.

Mention a dish you happen to like? Well, she can't cook for shit, but she will memorize a recipe to help you make it.

Miss Delight will learn your routine down to the average time you wake up in the morning so that she can make fresh coffee for the two of you to enjoy.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

As cliché as it is, her favorite moment would be your first kiss. She had gone to extreme lengths to make sure everything was perfect for the two of you.

She had ordered your favorite takeout and set it up nicely on the dining room table, went out and bought a nice bottle of wine for you to share, and she even put on a touch of makeup for confidence.

You had come home and had probably the worst day ever. Your coworkers were just piling more and more shit on top of you, and your boss expected everything to get done. By the time you left, you were ready to just collapse into bed, dinner be damned.

When you walked in the door, you were greeted by Miss Delight standing next to the table, which was covered in your favorite food. She grinned and asked how your day was while stepping closer to take your coat off. God, you loved it when she did stuff like this.

With your coat now off and in her hands, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and pulled her into you for the warmest hug you've had in years. You lean up and gently place your hand on her cheek before whispering about how good she looks, how much you missed her, and how nice she was for surprising you like this.

“W-well, I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Wanted what to be perfect, love?”

“This..” 

She whispered and leaned in to give you probably the sweetest kiss you've ever had.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Miss Delight and Barb would literally kill someone if they upset or, god forbid, harmed you in some way. She's definitely up there on the protectiveness scale.

Miss Delight is a very anxious creature, so she would definitely like to avoid dangerous situations now that she's in a good place with you. If something bad were to happen, she could step up but would definitely prefer if you either stood in front of her to shield her or wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Miss Delight absolutely loves to go all out for everything. As mentioned with your first kiss, she set up the perfect date night because she wanted to do something nice for the two of you.

Anniversaries would be something very special to her, considering the fact that you might as well be her soulmate at this point. Both of you will go all out for this celebration, calling out of work and spending the entire day with each other.

This also goes for holidays as well, especially like Christmas or Valentine's Day, because imagine sitting with her and making cute little Valentine's Day decorations to hang around the house or decorating the Christmas tree like girly goes all out.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She bites, but not even in a sexual way most times. She just thinks that’s a normal way to show affection, and it has left you bruised numerous times (not that some of you would mind)

Miss Delight also leaves coffee cups and dishes EVERYWHERE. If she takes one with her to the bathroom or her home office, she will absolutely leave it there. If she takes a travel mug to her classroom, you are never seeing it again.

Your good plates? You’d better keep those in the dining room. Otherwise, you might sit on one that she LEFT ON THE FUCKING COUCH BEFORE BED, GOD DAMMIT!!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Miss Delight puts on a façade of not really caring what she looks like, but every so often, you’ll catch glimpses of her looking in a mirror. She’ll be staring at her cracked face, wondering if there’s anything that can be done or if she’ll be stuck looking broken forever. 

When you catch her in one of these moods, you always take your time to comfort and reassure her that she's beautiful (which she is) and that you will always love her no matter what she looks like.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely she would. You are quite possibly the best thing that has happened to her, and now that she's got you, she finally has someone to rely on and help care for her.

If you left, she would be torn apart mentally. The heartbreak might be enough for her to completely snap.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Miss Delight likes to jumpscare you sometimes. By standing still in a dark hallway or grabbing you from behind whenever you're not looking, she thinks it's funny, and your screams are really cute too!

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

As previously mentioned, she does not like energy drinks and will scold you if she catches you drinking one.

She hates cigarettes too, especially the smell and how bad they are for you.

Also, if you have a habit of cracking your neck, back, or knuckles, she won't say anything, but she hates the sound. When you do it, she'll stop what she's doing just to turn and glare at you.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

She doesn’t need to sleep. She didn’t for a long time until she met you. When you first laid down to go to sleep, she watched over you to make sure nothing messed with you. As time went on, she got more and more curious until she worked up the courage to ask if she could lie down with you; you just looked so warm and cozy…

She rested peacefully for the first time in over ten years that night. 

Special thanks to my beloved @s1nful-sa1nt this probably would not have ever gotten out without them, so I love you very much <33

[ttttobistuff]

Hi hi hello! I'm a big fan of your work. I was wondering if I could request something for Eyeless jack? :)

Gn!reader (I'm gn) that Maybe found Ej hurt and decided to be a good person and help him out without knowing who he was. And then Ej feels like he needs to repay the favor somehow?

Fluff, No smut please :0

Venous Bleeding

—E.J. x (gn) reader

TW: Mentions of blood and wounds

A/N: Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my writing. Also, forgive me if this is a bit short…I’ve been quite occupied.

…

Wandering through the empty streets at midnight was one of your strange pleasures, and, to a certain point, a need. Black as obsidian, the path taken had been long scorched into your blaring mind.

Pacing slowly, breathing in the city, breathing out the burden. A place which more so often cacophony took control of. The brimful multitudes you saw with awe from your home were long gone, perhaps sound asleep. For you, moonbeams and night terrors would awake you. You always felt as if someone gazed through the window. Resting before sunrise was an exceptional occasion.

A step after one another, dragging your cumbersome body to a pointless destination. It all seemed to repeat, without an apparent end. The emptiness of noise was as if a mother rocked her child to slumber.

While your eyes only examined the strong, fearsome moon, moans got lost in the wind. A semi broken light of the street shined down, revealing a pond of blood and the source of those whines. Two thoughts formed for you, but the idea of helping whoever might need it overcame the uneasiness.

Sprinting your way to the body, you kneeled down on his side. Regardless of the mess underneath you, your clothing wasn’t of much significance. The stranger slightly flinched at your sudden approach.

��I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You spoke, softly.

Reaching out for his injured arm—which he held close to his chest—you saw an oozing wound. Dark red, with a tinge of blue. Thick blood flowed down to the ground.

“Cephalic vein,” a man’s voice said, “mild venous bleeding.”

He knew more than you, that was evident, yet you tried your best. You elevated his arm, above his heart. Meanwhile, your eyes frantically searched for clothing to press over the wound. Upon giving up, you ripped your shirt. The man seemed impressed by your decisiveness, yet said not a word.

As the piece of clothing hugged his flesh, your palm was pressed down too. He was warm, his skin was certainly tougher than you would’ve expected, yet it wasn’t a bad surprise. A craving lingered inside you. You felt jealous at the clothing, wishing it was you who embraced him in such a way.

You did not know why you felt that way. Something bribed you closer to him. Something you could not understand, and honestly, didn’t want to. You enjoyed how you felt around this stranger.

Thankfully, the flow slowed down until coagulation outside created a barrier for the blood. Removing your hand, covered in a crimson layer, his breathing became slow once more.

“Is there anything wrong?” Your question prowled the alley. Ten seconds passed and he did not answer. Then twenty, thirty, even forty seconds later he did not speak a word.

You backed away, handing him the bottle of water you tended to carry around. The man returned to his feet, and you finally caught a glimpse of his face…

A navy blue mask, a black substance dripping down from its seemingly empty sockets. Though you were not frightened, he quickly ran away.

On your way back, you couldn’t help but think about him.

—

It was still dark, yet you had come back home. You felt the need to, but terrors still awaited you. Sleeping was still a faraway possibility.

You hoped for sunrise in your bed, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, a cold breeze made you shiver. Looking around to find your window open, you wondered if it had always been like that.

Your doubt was answered with the warmth of another body crawling into bed with you. Instinctively, your arms swung open for him to squeeze closer.

Somewhere deep inside, you knew who he was. Though blood still smeared everything he touched, it was no longer his blood. The crimson drops falling from his mouth were not his. Different shades of red, you thought.

You couldn’t care less. Only his touch was an important matter at that moment. He made you feel as if nothing could ever hurt you, and perhaps, it was true.

“I came to make us even,” he said, as he calmly pushed his soft hair onto your neck, “nights are the worst for you.”

He held you, and you held him tightly. His body was no longer stiff. He smelled like meat, like death, and you found a strange comfort in it.

“Call me Jack.” He said, as he caressed your back softly with his hand. The image of his lips moving made your heart twist and squirm, but your body stayed still.

Before slipping into the unconsciousness of rest, you figured something out. That which once caused you night terrors, was now the reason why your eyes felt heavy.

This time, only sunbeams and a breath close to your face awoke you in the morning.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: I said I was back, and I meant it! Anyway, if you haven't read the last update, this is the second update this week. That's right. New Chapters 67 and 68. NSFW-ish warning.

Aelin was exactly seven minutes early to her interview. She’d spent the last week emptying her closet and putting together the perfect outfit – a sweater dress, tights, and boots that were just the right level of put together – and mapping out exactly how long it would take to get to Xavier’s house, so she could feel the most prepared walking in. She would not be late to the most important meeting of her life. No way.

She slid out of the jeep and waved goodbye to Rowan, who promised to be waiting at the closest coffee shop until she was ready to be picked up. She assumed it’d be around thirty minutes, but she honestly had no idea how long this interview would take. It wasn’t like she had any experience. Looking around, Aelin took a deep breath and took her first step down the long driveway and toward her future. She gained confidence with each step, feeling her stride lengthen and solidify as her chunky boot heel crunched the gravel beneath it.

They were definitely in the wealthier part of Orynth, closer to where Lysandra’s family lived. Sprawling lawns and expertly manicured greenery dotted her winding path. It felt so different than her own tiny street with closely stacked duplexes and shared family homes that she felt a small tug of insecurity before reminding herself that she was prepared for this. Both her dad and Rowan would attest to that. She’d put them through their paces, going over the “best answers” to potential questions that ranged from her favorite book (The Secret Garden — to lead into her thoughts on why lack of autonomy within the disabled communities is a problem) to what she planned to study (an interest in biology and pre-med with flexibility to also take liberal arts classes) all the way to challenges she’d had to overcome and how she’d  personally be an excellent addition to the Wendlyn community. Those were too complicated to boil down into small snippets. But she had the bullet pointed lists laid out in her head, ready to be explained and fully ready for engagement. Honestly, as nervewracking as this whole situation was, she felt prepared. She reassured herself one more time, scrolling through her list of answers over and over, until she reached the oversized front door. In the middle of it all was a door-knocker so large and cumbersome she hoped she could lift it.

Another deep breath. She could do this. No matter how rich and fancy this person was. Whatever laid on the other side of that door, she was ready and prepared for.

She inhaled, filling up her lungs with extra reassurance, but as she lifted her hand to raise what was surely a heavily weighted solid brass knocker, the wind was completely knocked from her chest. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, she had not anticipated this one single thing that could fully derail her.

Before Aelin knew what was even happening, she could feel herself shrinking at the sight before her. She’d know that perfectly coiffed hair and polite smile anywhere.

“Mom?”

“Aelin,” Evalin said, leaning in to kiss her on both her cheeks, surely leaving behind smudges of her burgundy lipstick on Aelin’s pale cheek.

She leaned back and looked Aelin up and down, her crystal eyes pausing and practically flinching at the tiny snag in Aelin’s tights. She’d only had that one pair and even went over it with clear nail polish to make sure it wouldn’t pull or run more, fully assured that Xavier wouldn’t be looking at the side of her shin where her boot met the tights. But she hadn’t anticipated Evalin’s eagle eyes pulling apart every slight detail, searching for anything out of place to berate her for. “Don’t you look lovely,” Evalin continued, though the downturn of her lips as she touched Aelin’s sweater dress gave her real feelings away. Evalin chuckled as she stepped aside, letting Aelin enter into the large dark foyer. 

“Why don’t you take off your coat, darling?” Evalin said, reaching her hand out.

Aelin cleared her throat, trying not to let the slight choking feeling overtake her and draw in a steady breath as she finally got out a soft, “Mom, what are you doing here?”  

If Evalin was fazed in the slightest, she didn’t show it at all. But Aelin had never felt so small. She had worked so hard to put together this outfit, and now that her mom was looking at it, she knew it was all wrong. The sweater dress had been put through the wash one too many times, tiny pills forming in its most worn spots. Evalin would have shaved them off. Or bought Aelin a new dress. She’d make sure that Aelin had a fresh haircut, none of her desperately-in need-of-trimming dead ends left unevenly past her shoulders. She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater dress as her coat disappeared from her shoulders, suddenly feeling naked without it. There was a tiny thread coming undone from the hem of the sleeve, and she knew that without a doubt Evalin would clock it. The woman missed nothing. She should have tugged it and tried to remove it immediately, but all she could feel was shock and horror. Needing something to do, she untucked her hair from behind her ear, letting it tumble forward, but of course that was the wrong thing to do. Aelin could never do the right thing. Be the right way. Be good enough to keep her mom happy. To keep her around, even. 

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as Evalin frowned and straightened her shoulders back, warning Aelin silently to do the same. As she retucked the thick gold wave behind Aelin’s ear, her furrowed brow melted away, replaced by a smile only reserved for others. 

“Xavier, please meet my beautiful daughter, Aelin,” she said with a sweep of her hand. It took everything in Aelin not to flinch as the hand gestured toward her. Instead, she donned her most polite smile — ruing the way it felt like an Evalin reproduction — and bowed her head and curtsied, instinctively.

Xavier chuckled. “Oh, my. Look at that,” he said as his elbow nudged into the air by Evalin’s side. “Impeccable manners, of course. I would expect nothing less from an Ashryver,” he continued, his tone light as he ushered Aelin further into the cavernous foyer.

Xavier was everything she should have expected but was somehow unprepared for. He was Evalin in male form. His thick blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, swooping gently over his forehead in a way that told Aelin is had taken hours of work and product to get it to look so natural. He was tall but reedy, like someone who spent a lot of time mixing up green smoothies, per his personal trainer’s request. His navy suit was clean and pressed, sharp with creases that told the world he was someone with something important to say. Shiny cufflinks glinted in the mid-afternoon sun, and Aelin knew if she looked close enough they’d be monogrammed with a flourished script.

“But no need for formalities,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s turmoil. “Your mother and I go way back. In fact, our parents’ parents go way back. Evie and I were friends long before our time together at Wendlyn.”

Aelin nearly choked at the use of the nickname for her mother. She’d never heard anyone address her as anything other as her full name, and it took Aelin aback that this man was not only allowed to use this familiarity but received a smile in return for it.

“We were bred in the same kennel, as my father used to say,” Xavier said scratching at his too clean-shaven chin. It was red and shiny and Aelin wished she could stop staring at it and listen to him again. “I can’t remember a holiday I didn’t spend with the Ashryvers,” he droned on.  But Aelin’s mouth was faster than her filter. 

“But I’m not an Ashryver. I’m a Galathynius,” she said. Two pairs of eyes widened but melted quickly back into an amused gaze. 

“Hi, ho. A spitfire, just like her mom. That’s the Ashryver spark for sure,” Xavier said, ignoring Aelin’s growing discomfort.

Because she wasn’t an Ashryver. She was a Galathynius. 

“Who, me?” Evalin batted her lashes and giggled, feigning innocence. Flirting. Aelin’s mom was flirting with this man. This alum. Right in front of her. She swallowed again, biting down the ire rising in her throat. She hated it here. She would do anything to send a fire signal to Rowan to come and pick her up immediately, but, no. She had an interview to complete still. An alum to impress. Aelin could feel her heartbeat quickening as she realized that she still had an interview to complete. That her mom would bear witness to this whole thing. She just wanted to get it overwith and be out of her presence as quickly as possible.

“Can we get started?” Aelin cut off the man, who was clearly surprised. 

“Ah yes,” he fumbled with his thumbs and shoved them into his pocket before taking one back out and gesturing down a long dark hallway. “The study is right this way.”

Study. So formal.

She looked down the long hallway and tried her best to grasp at any of the tendrils of her waning confidence, but it was fruitless. Aelin had never felt so out of place, like such a fraud. Here she was, pretending to be Wendlyn material, but that wasn’t her; that was Evalin.

Evalin, who had grown up with this man, knowing that her future held the glowing promise of a Wendlyn future. Evalin walked through this home as if she belonged there, looking completely at home. But as Aelin traversed the dark portrait-lined hallway down to the study, she could feel the sharp stares of the painted faces judging her with every cautious step. You don’t belong here, they seemed to mock, their pinched noses and haughty smirks watching as Aelin’s chunky boot heel step on the delicate mosaic tile beneath her feet. She didn’t want to think about how expensive these fancy floors were, and the fact that her $20 boots were most likely leaving black rubber smudges against them.  

While Lysandra’s family home was fancy, it was nothing like this – whereas her house was bright and wide and open and modern, this expansive home was dark and crowded with ornate moldings and décor that felt like it could close in on Aelin at any second. She managed to keep her feet steady, despite the long walk down the seemingly never-ending hallway. She could hear Xavier maintaining casual conversation with Evalin, but Aelin stayed quiet, fully focusing on maintaining her stride and praying that she wouldn’t stumble and fall or accidentally break something. Foreboding crept up Aelin’s spine as Evalin fell into pace beside her and smoothed out the fabric of her sweater dress against her back. She could feel her picking off an imaginary piece of lint from the shoulder just so she could dig her fingers into her bicep and pull her close. 

“Behave, please,” Evalin whispered through clenched teeth, causing Aelin to stumble, just as she’d feared she would. “Careful, darling,” Evalin drawled in a much lighter tone. “These floors are priceless.”

“You break it, you bought it,” her mother and Xavier said in unison as he pushed open the door to his study. They both laughed as it was something hilarious from their youth, but all Aelin heard was – You’re not one of us. Again and again and again.

Aelin blinked at the harsh expanse of daylight that filtered through the floor to ceiling windows lining the wall of the study. Thick burgundy drapes were pulled back to allowing a shock of grey-white sky to cast its milky pallor over the dark wood room, somehow leeching it of any warmth, despite the burgundy and mahogany color scheme. 

“Ah yes, it’s quite the view, isn’t it?” Xavier chuckled as he gestured to the frost-laden yard that seemed to go on for miles and miles. “You can see the mountains in the distance on a clear day. When we first bought this place, the neighbors behind us were trying to plant trees in our view, which turned into a bit of a legal battle. But it ended up alright. We bought them out, and now we have a perfect view.” His voice was haughty with pride at the notion of buying someone out of their home. Aelin’s stomach curled at the notion that one person could be so selfish. But still, she put on her best smile and nodded politely. Evelyn would tolerate no less.

Still smiling smugly, Xavier waved Aelin over to the large leather loveseat where Evalin was already perched. But Aelin didn’t want to sit next to Evelyn. She couldn’t think with her hovering so close — all her well-prepared answers had floated to the recesses of her memories, blocked by the constant perusal of her mother’s perfectly controlled facial expressions. But as Xavier slid into the arm chair across from them, Aelin was at a loss. There was nowhere else to sit. She’d have to sit next to her mother.

As she slid onto the stiff couch, the skirt of her dress rode up slightly, catching on the leather. But before she could even it out, Evalin was there, doing it for her. Always hovering. Always watching. Aelin didn’t even realize that Xavier had asked her a question, until she heard her mother’s sharp whisper. “Don’t be rude, Aelin. Answer.”

“Hm?” Aelin’s head whipped up, watching Xavier face lips tug downward into a slight frown.

“Xavier was just asking what you’re interested in studying?” Evalin repeated, her blue-grey eyes staring a hole into Aelin. 

Aelin knew she had an answer for this. She’d talked about the phrasing with Rowan over and over about why it was actually a benefit that she wasn’t completely sure what she wanted to study yet. That it allowed for… curiousity? Flexibility? No, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. The words were completely mixed up in her head, and she couldn’t make heads or tales of them. With every flash of her mom’s eyes, Aelin’s rehearsed answers disappeared further and further until all that was left was a gaping black hole of confusion in her anxiety-addled brain. What was she supposed to say? She had no idea. Literally none. She couldn’t do this. Oh god. She couldn’t do this.

Aelin swallowed back the threat of tears as she croaked out a quiet, “I don’t know.”

“Aelin has many interests,” Evalin jumped in, placing her perfectly polished nails on Aelin’s knee. “She’s trained in ballet and is extremely creative.”

She should have said something about how she had just joined Orynth’s Dance Company. About her time spent teaching last fall, how dancing was for fun and she wasn’t sure she’d want to pursue it professionally but she loved that Wendlyn had recreational dance teams she could participate in. That was the answer she’d rehearsed. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth and brain work together.

“Ah, so perhaps a performing arts major?” Xavier asked. “I myself studied the bard and was in a play or two back in my day. Wendlyn has a thriving theater department. We even have quite a few celebrity alums,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s complete mental shutdown.

“No,” Aelin said. Apparently she couldn’t even explain more than that. She could see the corners of Xavier’s eyes tightening uncomfortably as he watched Evalin’s hand grasp Aelin’s knee – the edges of her dark red gel tips sinking into Aelin’s tights, as the conversation plummeted into a dead silence.

“Right,” Xavier cleared his throat, clearly at a loss. Aelin could feel her stress welling as he continued, hopeful, knowing that her next answer was sure to be another disappointment. Just like her entire being. “Well... perhaps you’d like to tell me about why you’re interested in Wendlyn?” he asked.

And though Aelin knew she had a full essay response for that exact question, she simply shrugged and let him continue his list of questions, each one said with less curiosity as Xavier realized what Aelin had feared: she wasn’t Wendlyn material. And with each question and answer, Aelin knew her chances of getting into college with Rowan were quickly disappearing.

. . .

Aelin had been in a mood in the days following her interview with Xavier and she who shall not be named. But, she was trying her very hardest to keep a smile on her face and pretend like she was totally fine. Mostly because today was Rowan’s first lacrosse game of the season, and he needed her in the stands cheering him on, not sulking about her botched interview. It wasn’tthat she wasn’t a fully supportive girlfriend, but she wasn’t feeling particularly into lacrosse — the sport that was fully responsible for handing Rowan a future that she so clearly wasn’t going to be a part of. She wanted him to do well, but an uncomfortable feeling of panic was pressing against her chest, and it was taking everything in her to put a smile on her face. And Aelin was a lot of things, but a spectacular actress was not one of them.

To Rowan’s credit, he was letting her feel her feelings without pushing. He’d asked how the interview went upon picking her up, and Aelin had simply snapped and said, “Bad.” When he pushed for any more information, she shut him down completely and she could feel a thick wall of armor rising. She’d been furious, practically shaking with anger, but for some reason, hadn’t want to share her mom’s surprise appearance with him. She’d told him that she’d talk when she was ready, and even though she knew he wanted to push, he accepted what she’d asked for. She wasn’t ready to talk about it. She had other things to think about. Like figuring out any other plan for her future that still included Rowan.

Which is why that Friday morning, she donned her green and gold best, tied her long braided pigtails with the #47 ribbons she’d decorated in puffy paints last year, and woke up early to grab a few special treats for her boyfriend on his big day. Before this whole debacle, she’d asked Maeve if she could make a batch of Rowan’s favorite peanut butter cookies, decorated like his jersey, and sure enough, they were waiting on the counter with two coffees when she let herself into their townhouse. She could hear the shower running upstairs, along with a loud blaring bass of one of Rowan’s pump-up playlists, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and push aside any traces of residual insecurity and focus on Rowan. It was his big day, and she knew he was nervous. He always was.

Within minutes, she heard his heavy step skipping every other stairs as he descended into the kitchen where she was waiting, and his smile upon seeing her there temporarily melted away her bad mood entirely. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over receiving that look from him.

“Happy game day, Captain,” Aelin said, smiling widely.

His arms surrounded her, sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, as he leaned in and pulled her against his chest. He smelled warm from his shower, and she took a moment to inhale the comforting scent of his pine body wash combined with something just innately Rowan.

“Coffee?”

She held out the cup in his direction, but he ignored it in favor of kissing her. Who was she to disagree? She let herself melt into it, letting her anxieties disappear for the moments his mouth was on hers.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t help but laugh against his lips.

“You saw me less than nine hours ago.”

“Too long.” He pulled her even closer and went back in for another kiss, this time with more fervor. His tongue slid between her lips, and she could feel herself getting slightly carried away as their bodies pressed together even tighter. Her grasp on the coffee cup in her hand was getting dangerously loose when he finally pulled away, resting his head against her forehead and bringing the coffee to his lips.

“Mmmm. Delicious.”

“Me or the coffee?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Both.” He leaned in and kissed her one more time. “I wish we had time to go upstairs, but…”

“Someone has a game to kick ass in today, and missing first period is probably a bad way to start that off, huh?”

He nodded sadly, but the mischief didn’t completely leave his green eyes as he looked her up and down. “But maybe during lunch?”

Aelin couldn’t control the burst of laughter that bubbled up her throat. “A pre-game warm up?” she teased.

“Always.” He let his hand fall to the swell of her butt, pinching it lightly and causing Aelin to yelp in surprise.

“Be nice or I’m not giving you your cookies.”

Rowan raised his brow. “You baked?” he asked, rightfully skeptical. After all, he spent most of his time with Aelin and he would have definitely noticed if she’d disappeared to Maeve’s for a few hours without him.

“I had help,” Aelin said, procuring the tray of decorated cookies.

His excitement couldn’t be contained as he leaned back in for yet another kiss, but Aelin knew that if they kept this up they definitely would be late for school.

“Later,” she promised, hoping that would keep her spirits afloat.

But as soon as she waved goodbye to Rowan in the hallway, all her doubts came flooding back. She parsed through every second of her time with Xavier and her mom, wondering if there was any world in which that interview could have been construed as positive, but she knew in her heart the truth. She had bombed. Big time. Not just a minor bomb. That whole afternoon had been a full nuclear wipeout with no survivors left standing. She’d killed her own opportunity, and she’d never forgive herself for it.

By the time lunch came around, Aelin was so deep into her self-pitying wallowing that she felt like she was being suffocated by negativity. She’d hoped that seeing Rowan would brighten her spirits, as it had this morning, but apparently that’d been a fluke. She was just as prickly as ever, barely even smiling when he greeted her with a giant bear hug, spinning her around the hall in an exuberant whirlwind. In fact, her mood was made even worse by the flurry of cheerleaders who giggled in his presence, blushing as they wished him luck in tonight’s game. She practically hissed as one got too close, flashing her canines in feral warning.

“Ease up, Ace,” Rowan chuckled as he led her out to the far side of the parking lot where the jeep was parked.

“Stupid fucking cheerleaders,” she grumbled as she slid into the back seat. She was so in her head that she barely even noticed Rowan driving to their special secluded spot — a nearby parking lot that was midway through some sort of construction when it had been fully abandoned. She was sure the crews would come back one day, but for now, it was perfect for their, uh… needs.

Rowan joined her in the back seat and pulled her onto his lap with skilled ease, as if they’d been doing this for years, rather than merely weeks. But it was good. She was on full autopilot. Aelin’s body knew exactly what to do without being in her brain at all. Her hips rolled against his lap as his fingers tangled in her hair, clashing their teeth together in a harsh mingling of breaths and low groans. She didn’t wait for him as she pulled her top off, and allowed her head to fall back as his mouth trailed down her neck and to the bare expanse of her cleavage. Gods, she loved him so much. What was she ever going to do without this? She tried to imagine a world where she didn’t get to be this close to Rowan, but all she saw was a gaping painful hole in her hear heart. She felt her throat closing slightly and swallowed down the threat of emotion she’d careful kept walled up all week.

“Ace?” Rowan looked up at her with concern, clocking the change in her breathing, but she forged forward. She would not lose any time with him. She’d take advantage of every second they had together. Clothed and unclothed.

“I’m good,” she reassured him,

But she knew he could feel the slight waver in her touch as she reached down to his waist to unbutton his pants. His green eyes flashed in warning, but she ignored it, pulling him into her hand and tightening her grasp exactly as she knew he liked it. Autopilot.

Her hands regained their surety as she continued, lulling Rowan into a state of blissful arousal. She leaned in and bit his exposed throat as he leaned further into the seat, moving his hips into her hand. Her mouth opened and sucked at his skin. Hard. She wanted anyone who saw him to know that he was spoken for. That he was claimed. That he was hers. No matter what. She never wanted anyone else to know him like this, and she could feel her pulse stutter as she even considered the possibility of that. No.

She needed to refocus. Without removing her mouth, she reached for the condom he’d placed beside them on the seat and opened it. She leaned back just barely enough to make room to place it on him, not wanting to give him any space. That was the opposite of what she wanted. She could hear him groan a loud expletive as she slid on top of him and started to move. He fit so perfectly. No one else would ever fit like this. And when it was gone, she’d miss it so, so, so much.

“Oh, Ace.” She thought he was moaning her name in pleasure, but it wasn’t until he said, “Aelin, baby, stop,” that she clocked the tone was actually of concern. His face was blurry, and as she blinked, she felt that her cheeks were fully wet. Unbeknownst to her, silent tears had welled and dripped from the corners of her eyes in full, hot streams. “Baby, stop,” he said again, his hands going to her hips to still her, but her autopilot refused.

“No, it’s okay,” she said thickly. “I’m okay.”

“Aelin, you are not okay. You’re crying.”

She tried to keep her legs in a vice grip around his hips, but he was fully in control as he pulled her off of him and tucked himself back into his pants.

“No, no,” she croaked, her tears pouring out in earnest now. “We can keep going.”

“Ace, we’re not going to have sex while you’re crying.”

“I’m not crying,” she sniffed as his hands came up to her cheeks, wiping his thumbs against them. That seemed to be the thing that cracked her open, a full sob releasing from her mouth as her shoulders shook with the weight of the past few days. Rowan shushed her gently as he pulled her against him, rubbing comforting circles into her back. But she barely felt a thing. All she could feel was the hot sting of embarrassment and shame.

“Do you want to talk about it finally?” Rowan asked, but Aelin shook her head into his shoulder.

“N-no.”

“Okay.”

And she knew that he meant it. He’d sit there, erection still throbbing in his pants as she cried it out silently. That only made her cry harder. She owed it to him to tell him what had happened. She didn’t even know why she’d kept it to herself. Maybe she’d just wanted to pretend for a little longer that the future she’d imagined for them could happen.

“I blew it,” she finally said.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Rowan said. Her body was suddenly exhausted, and she couldn’t sit upright anymore. Or maybe she just couldn’t look at his face during this conversation. Instead, she slid until she was slumped across his lap and cuddling into the soft fabric of his pants. She struggled to calm her breath as he ran his dexterous fingers down her back and up again.

“You may as well break up with me now,” she sniffed.

Rowan’s hand paused on her back and tilted her ruddy face to look up at his concerned gaze. “Ace, I thought we talked about this. No matter what happens, we’re not breaking up.”

“That’s what you say now, but…” Another wave of tears took over as she sobbed. “What if you meet someone else? Some pretty and smart Wendlyn girl who fits into your world?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Rowan asked, seeming genuinely perplexed as his finger pushed aside the stream of tears on her hot cheek. “You fit in my world perfectly.”

“But all those girls at Wendlyn are going to be from upstanding families with two parents whose names are on libraries, and I bet they wear real pearls and have perfectly painted nails that are never chipped, and—”

“Aelin, what the fuck are you going on about? Why would I care about any of that?”

She bit her lip, sniffing back another round of tears as she finally told Rowan about Evalin’s surprise appearance and how of course she couldn’t have gotten that interview without Evalin’s help, tugging on those elite strings. And how clear it became that she was anything but that.

Rowan scratched at her scalp, and she leaned into his comforting touch.

“I don’t use the word hate lightly, but I fucking hate Evalin. What she did to you, surprising you like that with no warning was completely fucked up. She should have told you she was going to be there. Leaving you unprepared like that wasn’t going to help your chances, even if she thought being there would. You deserved a heads up. And the fact that she didn’t think you did just shows how little she understands about life. And you.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s okay to feel fucked up about what she did. But, Ace, it’s not okay to think I’m just going to suddenly disappear from your life if you end up at another college. That’s not going to happen. Never. Ever ever. I’m going to be in love with you for the rest of my life. Forever.”

“But—”

He held up a finger to her lips, shushing her. “But also, one person’s review of you isn’t going to make or break your college admission. You don’t know what anyone thinks of this Xavier dude. He could be hated! They could have him interview people as a barometer for who not to accept.”

“That feels highly doubtful, Ro,” Aelin laughed through the remnants of her tears. “But I appreciate your optimism.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s not over until the school year starts. And even then, it’s not over. Best case scenario, you get in with me for the fall. But there are a hundred other things that could happen before then. You could get waitlisted and get in, you could apply to transfer after a semester or a year, if you wanted. Or, other best case scenario, you love wherever you end up, and we still make this work with phone calls and video calls and weekend visits. Because I’m going to love you for the rest of your gods damned life, so stop trying to get rid of me,” he said, poking her cheek with each pointed word. “It’s insulting.” He paused, looking her over thoroughly, and it felt like he could really see through her in that moment, and she could hear his words before he even said them. “I’m not your mom.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Because I definitely don’t have my last name on any libraries. And I couldn’t tell you what a real pearl looks like if a million dollars were at stake. And guess what? I bite my nails, and the only reason Evalin even came around to the idea of me is because Wendlyn became interested in me. You think that I feel like I’m going to magically fit in there, but I doubt many students were raised by their single aunt and grew up working in her restaurant. I don’t have a trust. That’s why I needed this scholarship.” He paused. “If we’re weighing which one of us belongs at Wendlyn more than the other, only one of us is a legacy there, you know?”

“Okay,” she whispered, but the hurt was still so raw, and she felt ragged from her marathon of crying. She could feel Rowan still hard in his pants, and she felt awful. She went to reach for him, but he sternly put her hand back by her side.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But—”

“We’ll celebrate after I win the game tonight,” he said.

And true to his word, they did.

[mikaelsonstanaccount]

Klonnie Weekend Day 1 Sweet: First Kiss

Klaus stood nervously outside her door, holding the flowers in his hands. Even though he’s been alive for a millennia, a first date with Bonnie made him feel like a human. He saw her walk open the door and it was as if time stood still. She looked almost unreal. Like his own personal goddess. He wanted to relive this moment over and over again just so he could perfectly paint it. He finally came back to Earth and looked at her, seeing her lips moving. “You okay Klaus? You’re just staring.” Bonnie giggled as she looked at him. He simply nodded, smiling at her.

“Perfectly fine my love, just enjoying the view.” He smiled as he slowly drank her in. He smiled as he grabbed her hand and gently spun her around. He wanted a full look of her body, enjoying how the dress clung to her. “Pink is your color love. You put anyone who’s ever worn it ever to shame. You are the owner of the color pink.” He started, watching  her cheeks flush. He smiled, leaning in and kissing her cheek before leading her out to the car. He had an entire night planned for her. He wanted her to feel like the queen she is.

As he drove towards our first destination he could see her deep in thought. “What’s on your mind my love?” He asked, reaching over to hold her hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose a morning date?” She asked before he smiled. “Well it’s a lot involved in our date. A lot of moving parts.” He teased as he pulled up outside of an airport. “Klaus…I’m a little dressed up for an airport.” She said as he shook his head. “Well you’re not too dressed up for where we are going.” He added, getting out and opened her door. He grabbed a small bag that he packed with a pair of comfy shoes for her and put it on his shoulder. He then opened the door for her and led her out to our private jet. “Mikaelson?” She questioned as he smiled.

“Eh, Bex bought it a while ago. I decided to take advantage of the usage for it.” He chuckled, greeting the staff for the flight. Once he led her on board, he smiled as they had a small, intimate breakfast set up for them. She looked around before noticing the breakfast and smiling. “Klaus, this is so sweet. Is this one of the moving parts?” She asked as he nodded. “I also packed you a pair of shoes to change into if the heels become too cumbersome.” He said, setting the shoes on a couch beside them. He sat down across from her and buckled in his seat. 

Once the flight was steady the flight attendant came over and pulled the covers off of their meal. He poured himself a glass of blood while she poured Bonnie a glass of champagne. “Planning to get me drunk?” She smirked before he chuckled and shook his head. “No, just easing your nerves I guess.” He smiled, taking a sip of his drink and began to eat his food. He saw Bonnie dig in, enjoying the food as well. He couldn’t help but to watch her, enamored by the way her eyes lit up at certain tastes. The way she smiled and enjoyed the flavors of everything. He honestly felt lost in all that she was. 

As they landed, he hummed as she slept with her head on his shoulder. He gently lifted her head in an attempt to wake her up. He saw her stirring, kissing her temple. He sat on his knees in front of her. He switched out her heels for a pair of fuzzy slippers, wanting her to be comfortable. “You’re so sweet when you want to be Klaus.” She hummed as he chuckled and kissed her knee. He helped her up once they were cleared to leave and led her to the car he rented for the weekend. “Where are we Nik?” She asked as she looked around. “Milan, Italy.” He hummed as he opened the door for her. He saw her eyes widen as she began to protest but he stopped her. “Nope, I don’t want to hear any objections. Think of this as a late birthday gift.” He smiled as she shook her head.

“My birthday was 3 months ago Klaus…and you got me a gift.” She said, the confusion evident in her voice at the end. “I didn’t get what I wanted you to get. This is what I wanted to get you.” He hummed as the car purred to life. He picked a black Ferrari for this occasion. “Okay fine, what am I supposed to do for clothes?” She asked as he smiled and gently patted her thigh. “I have that handled my love, you don’t fret. We will head to the hotel and then we will head out on the town.” He replied, looking over at her as we rode down the road. He pulled up at the Palazzo Cordusio Gran Meliá, smiling as he drove over to the valet. He handed him the keys and opened the door for her. Once she stepped out he got in to park the car. 

He walked inside and smiled as he greeted the same receptionist he always saw. She was a middle aged woman who would stay on the lookout for the best suite to stay in for the week. “Presidential Suite.” She said as she handed the key to him and bowed a bit. He thanked her before leading his sweet witch to the elevator. “She knows you?” She asked as he smiled and nodded. “Old family friend, anytime I call she always helps with getting a suite for the family. That and the other amenities the hotel has to offer, such as the spa.” He responded, looking over at her. “Wow, must be nice.” She giggled as he shook my head. “It helps when you are centuries old.” He hummed, opening the door to the suite. 

He handed her the pamphlet that showed the various amenities and excursions the hotel had to offer as he sat on the couch. “So is this all you had planned? To whisk me away and sit in a hotel?” She asked before he smiled and chuckled. “No, next up is a shopping spree and then dinner.” He boasted before looking up at her. “Shopping spree? Klaus-” She started before he cut her off. “Nope, I told you the plan is to do what I wanted to do for your birthday.” He said, cutting her off. “I want to spoil you, it’s how I show love.” He added before kissing her cheek. “Then let’s go shopping I guess, what's my limit?” She asked before he let out a laugh. “Limit?” He asked, almost unfamiliar with the term. “There’s no limit my love, whatever your heart desires is yours.” He hummed before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the hotel again.

After their shopping trip he took her back to the hotel to drop their clothes off and to change. He smiled when he looked at the dress Bonnie picked out. It was a yellow dress that hugged every part of her curves. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her hips and took her all in. “Let me guess, yellow is my color too?” She teased as he looked away with a smile. “It seems as if every color to exist is yours.” He hummed before leading her out of the hotel room again. He got the car and opened the door for her. He drove to Seta, a place Elijah recommended for their Coscia di pollo. He raved about the flavors and mentioned how well it paired with their chardonnay. 

“Seta? Sounds fancy.” Bonnie smiled as he led her inside. He gave the hostess his name before following her off to a secluded table that had a view of the city. “Wow” Bonnie whispered as she took in the view of everything, “Milan is truly gorgeous.” She smiled as Klaus hummed in agreement. He pulled the chair out for her to sit before gently pushing it in and then sitting down on the other side of her. He smiled as she looked around and took in the atmosphere. “How did you even find this place? Let me guess, family friend?” She teased before Klaus let out a chuckle. “No, my brother suggested here. He said the chicken was the best he’s ever had in Italy.” He smiled before reaching across the table to hold her hand.

After the date was over Klaus walked beside her on the streets, opting to enjoy the city a bit more before fully heading inside for the night. He had an arm around her waist as they turned and saw the hotel in view again. “This walk was really nice. I got to talk to you without you feeling the need to threaten my friend.” Bonnie smiled before Klaus shook his head and chuckled. “Well your friends are…a piece of work to put it nicely.” He hummed before leading her back to the hotel room. Once inside he watched her kick her shoes off and he smiled at how short she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and pulled her close. He kept looking between her eyes and lips as she talked about the pros and cons of her friend group. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, cutting off her sentence. He smiled into the kiss when she practically melted in his arms and held onto the front of his suit jacket. He pulled away from the kiss and smiled, seeing the almost dazed look in her eyes.