#How to know when you're striking the right balance? How much trust you should you give to other people to know what that balance should be?

[selvepnea]

Feeling. Weird...

[ghysry]

You're asking for requests and what about a reader (who wasn't adopted by Reginald ofc) with the powers of clairvoyance who sees what's gonna happen in season 4 all of it the Lila x five arc and everything and is just like no 😃 and stops it and fixes it (somehow five is the same age physically and mentally as them) so it's a reader x five fic it can be an established relationship to make it more angsty or not up to you!!

angst....I can't!!! I can't do it! I'm sorry guys but this story will not be angsty😭

Tags:

Fluff, comfort, unestablished relationship, five Hargreeves, reader, tua x reader, five x reader, Five is a little bitch

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"Emotion."

What are you doing?

You'd be shocked with how much you can do because you have the power of clairvoyance. You, yes you, had single handedly warned the others of the imminent danger their sibling, Viktor, would impose. You saw it when you closed your eyes, the world ending, a paradox. Had Five not gone here, had you not followed him, had he not created this, had he not created that.. That's not to say clairvoyance doesn't have its downsides, though. The memories keep on repeating, when Five jumps forward in time, when Five goes back in time, when Five...when Five..

Oh, don't you know?

It was driving you fucking insane. Every time you blinked that picture of Lila and Five kissing surrounded by strawberries in this safe haven of intricate wood painted white to look cutesy, her throwing strawberries at him, he, smiling. He smiled for god's sake - not in the sadistic homicidal way that you were so used to, but he smiled because he fell in love, in love with a woman he spent maybe seven years with, while he could barely muster a hello towards your way when you spent roughly forty years together in a shitty apocalypse?

Don't you know you'll be my ruin?

But, what could you do? They were already speaking, Lila was already a part of the family, you, not so much. You almost felt bad for Diego, no, you did feel bad for Diego, in all of the scenarios your power could have put you in, it decided to put you in this one. Choosing between telling your feelings (of which you can barely do) to a man who you're not even sure likes you back to fix this mess, or biting your tongue and letting it happen.

You got me crying,

For now though, while you're stuck in this shitty hotel you know will cause the reset of the universe, you have no choice but to keep your mouth shut until the right time approaches for you to strike. See, clairvoyance is a balance, it should always be a balance. It's why your mother always told you never to tell people what you can really do, because if you had, most if not everyone would have been surrounding you now asking you what happens next. It was the peace that kept you quiet about your power, even if it meant lying about it.

Crying again..

Thankfully though, now was the right time. Ben, the sparrow, had been alone for quite a while, sitting by himself while everyone else went about their way, Lila and Diego a reflection of Luther and Sloane, who had their wedding just a day ago, it was sweet to see honestly, even sweeter to see drunk Five messing around in the hallways physically, and not just through a mirror in your mind. Carefully, you found yourself sat next to the lonely sparrow, looking at him as he uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

When will you let..

"Ben." You started, your throat weirdly dry ever since you've been seeing into this specific future. Your heart beats rather faster than it usually should, but it always has when you have to mess with the timeline. The results would show in your mind's eye once the dirty work was done. "Yea that's me..Ben." His voice snaps you out of your daze once you realize you've been quiet for longer than a minute now. "Don't trust him." You push, your eyes squinting as if to magnify your point. "Trust who?" "Reginald." Ben gulps, audibly. You could practically hear his blood rush throughout his body once he realizes you know. "How did you..?" He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't trust him." Is all you answer, before walking away.

You spend an extended time in your room with a headache you knew was coming. It was always like this after you alter time in your own way, like telling Ben not to trust Reginald, some change, some don't. Unfortunately for you, what doesn't change is Lila and Five kissing it out in that damn strawberry garden. You can't even bring yourself to eat strawberries anymore, it's honestly traumatizing. Thankfully though, because of you telling Ben all this, the outcome has changed once more. From Luther and Klaus dying, only Klaus dies. From Five thinking Allison made a deal to kill Luther, Five now only thinks Allison made a deal..of some sort.

Five..

Okay, this is dumb. Well, you walking to Five and grabbing him by the wrist, huffing out a "we have to talk" is certainly dumb on a whole lot of degrees, even worse when you both find yourselves in a quiet room, you seated on the bed, him pacing around in the room. "Is this about something important? Because the world is ending right outside," You can't help it anymore. "I don't want you around Lila." You blurt out like word vomit, it was vile enough that you actually covered your mouth for a second, and his little chuckle made it even worse. He thinks it's a joke.

"what? Are you jealous? Think she might steal me away-" He almost fully stops dead in his tracks when he realizes you're actually serious about him and Lila, and his eyes soften, finally realizing what you were meaning to say. He clears his throat, causing your soul to jump from your body and bring your attention back, the tips of his ears are awfully red, and he has this look on his face that he's criminally scared to fuck this up. "Well, if that's what you want then I'll always be by your side."

You pause.

"That was a really bad flirt."

"Well excuse me for trying!"

[selfcontrolskey]

“You’re an asshole”

❗️A little bit was my idea but the rest isn’t my idea❗️

nicholas leister x reader

Sorry for the povs switching so much and for how long this is 😅

( can we please get more fics about this man )

You're fighting your enemy in the training room. Nicolas, apparently the best underground fighter ever according to lion.

As I step forward to hit him he quickly steps back. He's fast, l'II give him that.

I hit him again this time not giving him time to step back. He softly chuckles and touches his jaw where I hit him.

"Not bad"

I quickly regain my position in order to strike again. But this time he’s the faster one. He blocks my hit and knees me in the stomach.

I slightly stumble backwards.

That son of a bitch he knew it was bruised from my previous fight. He strikes again this time aiming for my face.

I duck just in time. “Is that all you’ve got?” I ask teasingly. I strike forward but he blocks my hit and turns me around so my back is against his chest.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He says in a mocking tone.

I chuckle. “oh no, I still have something just for you.” I lift my leg and hit him right in his area before he could react.

He lets go of me and stumbles backwards.

“Got you again.” I smile proudly.

Nick’s pov:

“Is that all you got?” I ask using the same words she did. A little laugh escapes from her mouth. her head touching my chin in the meanwhile.

“Oh no. I still have something special just for you.” Before I can figure out what that means I feel a stinging pain near my dick.

I let her go and stumble backwards.

After a few seconds I stand straight ignoring the throbbing pain.

“Aw I’m sorry did that hurt?” A little smirk appears on her face.

I’m gonna kill her.

Her smirk disappears into something more serious. I regain my position and get ready to defend myself.

She quickly moves and slides her legs under mine. I step back just in time.

This time I step forward and kick her in the leg making her loss balance. With that she falls to the ground, right on her back.

I can hear her trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry did that hurt?” She slowly moves her head and I can see she’s getting angrier by the second. I like it when she’s angry.

She slowly stands up and gets ready for another round. She’s a tough one. I’ll give her that.

I shake my head and chuckle.

“What? Afraid to lose?” She says.

“Like hell I am.” I say getting my hands ready to fight.

“Good” She responds getting ready as well.

Suddenly she looks to the left catching my attention. What the hell is she looking at? As I turn my head I’m welcomed with a fist to my face.

I stumble backwards but mange to remain my balance.

“Oh. So that’s how we’re playing now huh?”

I slowly wipe away the blood from my lips and look straight at her. She’s enjoying this.

"What, didn't expect that from a girl?" She says wiping the blood from her knuckles.

I give her a small smile and attack. My left fist first which she blocks. Then my right one, hitting her jaw. She quickly recovers and tries to knee me in the stomach. I grab her knee right before it reaches me.

"Not this time" Panick flashes her eyes so quickly I might think I imagined it. I push her back and slide my foot under her standing leg.

She falls but takes me down with her. Now I'm on top of her pinning her wrists down. Heavy breathing coming from both of us.

"Ready to give up?"

your pov:

Now he's on top of me and pinning my wrists. Heavy breathing coming from both of us.

"Ready to give up yet?” He asks with that stupid smirk of his. I slowly move my head forwards. I can feel his his breath on my lips.

"You know what. I actually like this position" I say seductively.

"Oh come on, you should know you can't play the same game two times"

"What if l'm not playing?" I breath out.

His eyes piercing through mine. "Forgive me for not really trusting your word" He whispers in my ears.

I quietly chuckle. “Good decision" I quickly move and pin him to the ground. Sitting on his lap, this time me pinning him down. I slightly move forward making him groan.

"What? Cat got your tongue?” He quickly glances at me and I can see desire and anger build behind his eyes. "You know what, l'll give you one more chance."

"One last round" I pat his chest and get ready to get up. Two hands suddenly pull me back down. His hands on my waist preventing me from getting up again. "Don't"

Confusion and realisation hit me at the same time. "Aw you don't have a crush on me do you?" I say leaning forward.

His hands tighten around my waist. "Don't move.”

nick’s pov:

She quickly moves and get's on top of me.

Oh fuck.

I slightly groan causing her to look at me. She slowly leans forward and an intense feeling goes right trough my body.

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

No, you just made me hard..

I close my eyes trying to focus on anything else but her sitting on my fucking lap.

"You know what?" She responds "I'll give you one more chance" I quickly open my eyes and see that she's sincere.

"One. Last. Round" She says holding up a finger. She patts my chest and get's ready to stand up. No fucking way she is getting up now.

I grab her by the waist and pull her back down. Another sensation strikes right trough my body. fuck, I'm hard. She softly yelp’s and looks confusing at me.

But not for long, her brain quickly catches up and knows what is happening. Her eyes suddenly fill with pleasure. "You don't have a crush on me do you?"

She leans forward and I cant help but tighten my hands around her small waist. "Don't move” I breath out.

Fuck, this feels good.

"Think of my mom" she says out of the blue. Did she just say what I think she did?

"What the hell."

"What? You want me to turn you on?"

“Not fucking help.”

your pov:

"Think of my mom" I suddenly blurt out.

He quickly glances at me with a "wtf" look. "What the hell.” He says.

“What?” I ask offended. “You want me to turn you on?"

“Not fucking helping.” he says closing his eyes again.

"Okay, just give me a second to think"

He slightly groans.

“Yeah, sure. Please take your time.” I ignore his comment and think.

Okay, this might work.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He suddenly opens his eyes and looks at me. “Why, you interested?"

At that I laugh. "Oh please"

His eyes slightly darken and something moves in my stomach.

“Just answer it"

"You think you'd be straddling my lap if I had one?”

"I'm not straddling your lap, I am simply just sitting on it" I say with confidence.

"It's your fault I have to sit on it anyway, so hurry and make it disappear."

"It's not a toy you know, you can't just fucking control it.”

"Fine, just hurry"

He sotfly laughs and shakes his head. A few moments pass and he looks more relaxed.

"You ready?" I ask so we can finally fight again.

"No, just give me a few more seconds."

I see a small smirk form on his stupid face.

oh this bitch.

“You’re nasty.” I say hitting his chest. I quickly get up and hear him laughing still on the floor.

"You can forget that last round" I say walking out of the training area.

"Why? Because you can't beat me?" As I turn around I can see he's standing again.

"Cmon just say it." He says walking closer to me.

“Say what? That you're an asshole? Gladly." He takes one step forward making him even closer to me. I slowly lift my eyes to meet his.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

"That I'm better than you" I softly snort at that. He has some serious ego issues.

"Fine, just come a bit closer."

He slowly grins and steps closer.

I put my hands on his chest and stand on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"You're."

I wait a second before continuing.

"an asshole."

I put my leg behind his and push him backwards.

He lands with a loud thud.

“Oops.”

"Did you want me to say something else?"

He looks at me and anger fills his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill you"

"Good luck trying"

I give him a wink and leave the training facility.

Nick’s pov:

Before I can realise what she is doing I land with a loud thud on the floor.

"Oops" she says looking extra innocently. "Did you want me to say something else?"

I glance up at her, pure anger filling me once again. This woman is gonna fucking mess me up.

"I'm gonna kill you" I say with gritted teeth.

She softly grins and gives me a wink. "Good luck trying.” Then she turns around and leaves me, her ass swaying slightly with every step.

Fuck.

SORRY ABOUT THE POV CHANGING SO MUCH 😭

and yes I used the ‘cat got your tongue’ thing again. Bite me. But I hope you enjoyed !

[popgoesthesneaselreturns]

How Can You Help Me Snowdust?

Music

"You know, why don't I call you something different? You like that don't you? So why not Snowdust? Would that make you happier?"

"Since when do you act nice? This another trick isn't it? You're going to be mean again aren't you? This is all a sick game to you!"

The two this time were full on fighting one another. Well, Sal was Salvador looked bored by the whole affair. Like he already knew the outcome before Sal even made to strike. He still smirked with a smug sense of self-assurance the complete opposite of Sal. Yet, when Sal looked at him there was envy Salvador seemed to sure of himself. Why did someone like that get the right to be so sure?

"I wasn't lying you know, you are my world. Why is it so hard for you to accept me? Would Mirage want you to hate yourself as much as you do? Would he be happy to see you trying to kill me over and over? He accepted all of you didn't he? Which means he accepted me too. He's not stupid, knowing him he likely knew I existed that I was the one hurting you so much. He gave you the option many times, if you said yes I would be no more. Yet, you kept saying no. It is your own fault that I am still here tormenting you night after night. If you simply accepted me, this would all be over."

"I can't accept you, your dark views on the world are something I do not want to inherit from them. You hold true to their teachings! You embody that madness in all its shades! I can't accept that!"

"Are you sure about that? Did their teachings truly sound like madness to you? Or were you willfully ignoring the lessons? Not seeing the hidden truth that lay within? They were trying to tell you something, trying to tell us something. Something important but you chose to ignore that truth like so many other things..."

"Why should I have listened to them? They hurt me! They used me! No one in their right mind would listen to Equinox! They only sought to cause me suffering! For the sake of their stupid balance!"

"Says the guy literally tearing himself apart? Whose the real insane one here? To me it looked like Equinox was fighting something himself, you remember don't you? How at certain times they seemed different, you don't want to admit it now, but in those moments you loved them.

The two push against one another more and more as they push it became hard to tell who was who. Salvador and Sal become one for a small moment until the broke apart once more. Sal was screamin in anger while Salvador became kinder. Probably a side effect of their brief connection. Salvador almost cried it had felt so good. Why did Sal get to decide that he should disappear? It wasn't fair!

"I've not lied to you once! Those things I said were things you felt! You don't want to admit those emotions were real becuase you hate how it would make you look to others. You care so much about what others think! If you truly trusted the people you say you love why do you think they wouldn't accept all of you even the darker parts? No one is perfect snowdust. You have to see that!"

"I can't! If people knew if people knew I felt like you did. No one would ever accept me! You are just using me! You are lying you always lie! I hate you! I hate you so much! I want you to die! I want to disappear!"

"Look, I...this is fun for me an all...but there comes a point where...even I don't want to keep this going. Is it possible that you are only resisting me because...you want to be punished?"

"No! I am not that insane! Who would want to be tormented this much?! Who would want all their darkest thoughts shot back at them without any care or worry?! You aren't real! You don't deserve to anything! I will erase you! I will make you vanish! Only then will I be free of all this! I will be free of them! I will cut them out of my life!"

"You stayed in the house of a madman. It makes sense you're crazy too. And look at that tone, maybe the two of us are finally starting to blend together? Well, if you're so resistent how about a compromise then? If you can't accept me...why don't we share? I admit I am getting a bit tired of this. Plus, I'm so tired of being alone...I want to exist too...I want to feel their love too...why do you get to have it? Don't you see how creul you're being?"

"I don't want to give you anything! But, fine...we can try it out...I...I'm tired of this too...but try to act like me ok? They'll think we're insane if you act like you normally do..."

"They will likely notice the difference, I'm a lot more confident than you are. You still need more time though...rest for now. I promise I won't do anything bad...but you need to tell them how bad this is. If you keep going like this we might break even more."

The fighting stops as Salvador pulls Sal into something neither thought would ever happen they hugged one another. And as the Sneasel awoke this time there was a different air about them. Salvador was letting Sal rest for once. Probably the nicest thing he had done, but finally he got to exist for once. He felt...happy...

[invisiblegarters]

So I just binged S1 of Gay Ok Bangkok and a thought occurred to me.

I enjoy all of these characters. I see their flaws and their strengths and I love them because of both, because these are people I know. I'm friends or have been friends with all of these people - I resonate with some more than most from my own experiences, but I could point to people in my life that remind me of all of them easily. They're real and lived in in a way that I'm frankly unused to seeing from most of the dramas I gravitate towards.

They make mistakes I've made, mistakes the people around me have made, and they break and they fight and they come back together in ways that I've done with people I've loved.

And yeah, I should have watched this before ever starting Only Friends. I could have, but I put it off for whatever reason and now here I am. But at least I'm doing it early in the show, because it's making me feel a lot better about OF - it's like I forget sometimes that I can actually trust Jojo to tell a story with nuance. Oh, don't get me wrong, the theorizing is fun - the wilder the better when I'm in the right mood - but it also gets a little too easy sometimes to lose sight of the fact that more than anything else, this team (aside from Den who I know nothing about) likes to make their people feel real. WIth all the messiness and mistakes and loveliness that comes with it.

Because the guys in OF are these guys, just younger and a bit more dramatic. And maybe a bit less sure about what's in store for them - not just as individuals, but as a society. The Bangkok crew (aside from Big) are all past or starting to get past that point in their lives when the future seems both daunting and very far away, and everything is all immediacy, but they're still searching. Whether it's Pom who just wants to find love (and I don't want spoilers for S2 but I love that season 1 ended with him learning to appreciate himself as an individual more - the facebook posts were a nice touch and a great way to show his state of mind as we went through the show), Aof who is trying to find a person he can take care of (and balance his dwindling interest in sex along with that need - he interests me so much tbh because so much emphasis does tend to get put on sex in relationships and it's a real struggle when it just isn't the thing you're after but everyone assumes that you should be, or wants you to be, or needs it from you (disclaimer: there's nothing wrong with either and I'm not trying to imply that but I want to see the navigation between his needs and Big's needs, or his needs and the needs of whoever he winds up with)), or Arm who is maybe the most aimless of all, wandering between relationships and jobs, staying with Pom when he gets dumped but unable to help foot the bills because he doesn't want to be stifled by a regular job. Arm strikes me as the friend who just doesn't want to grow up, but adulthood comes for us all in the end.

And then there's Nat, who I think is the most settled of the bunch, possibly to do with his HIV + status, or maybe it's just him. Whatever it is, I adore him. He's got his head firmly on his shoulders and he knows what he wants, but that doesn't quite stop him from taking a chance on Arm, who he knows is a risk but who he hopes will be for him anyway. But he has enough strength to walk away when he realizes it won't work. Frankly, Nat is who I want Sand to be, lol, only Sand is a dumb 22 year old punk who probably won't be able to walk away the same way Nat was able to (at least as far as s1).

Am I still kinda rooting for Arm and Nat to work things out? Yes. Will I be upset if they don't? I don't know. If there had never been a season two I think I would have been fine with how it all shook out. Frankly, this is the kind of ending I want from OF - one that feels earned, and logical, and not like they threw a pat, unambiguously happy ending at us for no reason (no, I am never getting over the end of The Warp Effect, don't @ me I don't want to hear it).

But even more than the romance, what I really loved is the friendship. The sense of community. Yes Arm and Pom fight when Arm makes a move on Pom's crush, yes they are petty and mean and say awful, hurtful things to each other in the moment, but in the end they're still friends because they know each other and care about each other and because to be quite honest, in a community as small as theirs (and I can't speak to Thailand because I'm from the West, but I know that where I'm from you see this kind of thing a lot. We have more legal rights here than there, I know that, but our community is still smaller and everyone kinda knows or knows of each other. Granted I am also from a small town so) you don't just drop the only people you know who get you over that kind of thing. You just don't. I was as invested in Arm and Pom making up as I was in any of the romantic couples working out. More, maybe.

I am also extremely glad to see the show address sexual health. Suck, fuck, and get tested! Words to live by, honestly.

Oh, and as an aside, now I'm seeing what people were saying about Jojo's whole glasses wearing dudes pattern. Shin, Pom, Mew. I see you, Jojo. I see you. 😉

Anyway I don't know where I'm going with this really - it's just a rambling way of saying I really enjoyed the first season a ton. 10/10, would recommend.

[kanatarenovations]

The Best Kitchen Renovations in Ottawa

Welcome to Ottawa's fascinating world of kitchen remodeling! This blog post is intended to help you through the process, whether you're a homeowner wishing to update your kitchen or a clever investor hoping to increase the value of your property. Investing in a kitchen renovation may be tremendously profitable, but it takes proper preparation and execution. We'll go over everything you need to know for a successful and beautiful Ottawa kitchen renovation , from choosing the right contractor to remaining on budget. Therefore, get a coffee, and let's explore Ottawa kitchen makeovers together!

The ideal timing for kitchen renovation

The overall outcome of your kitchen makeover project can be greatly impacted by scheduling. So, when is the ideal time for an Ottawa kitchen renovation? There is no one size fits all solution, but there are a few things to think about.

Consider your availability and timetable. Do you have any significant upcoming gatherings or events planned? If so, it could be best to postpone your refurbishment during those times in order to reduce inconveniences and stress.

Be mindful of Ottawa's seasonal swings. Renovations are more prevalent throughout the summer since homeowners can benefit from pleasant weather for outdoor cooking while their indoor area is being altered. Consider undertaking your remodeling during off-peak seasons like fall or winter, when contractors could have more flexibility in their schedules, if you're seeking for cost reductions and shorter timescales.

Keep in mind that contact with the contractor you choose is essential. Before choosing a start date for your project, inquire with them about their workload and availability. By doing this, you can be sure that they will have enough time and money to focus entirely on your restoration.

You'll be well on your way to completing a successful kitchen makeover in Ottawa by taking these things into account and striking the ideal balance between practicality and effectiveness!

How to select a qualified contractor

Finding the appropriate contractor is essential for a successful endeavor while remodeling your kitchen. But how can you tell who to trust when there are so many possibilities available? The best contractor for your Ottawa kitchen renovation can be found using the following advice.

Make sure you first conduct research. Look for remodelers who have experience in Ottawa and who specialize in kitchens. To learn more about their reputation, read reviews and client testimonies.

Next, seek advice from others. Ask friends, family members, or neighbors who have recently renovated their kitchens about their experiences working with contractors by getting in touch with them. Finding reputable providers can be made much easier with the help of word-of-mouth recommendations.

Make appointments for consultations with each contractor on your list once you have one. Watch how attentively they listen to your thoughts and preferences during these meetings. A professional builder should be able to comprehend your goals and make recommendations based on their experience.

Keep your credentials in mind! Ascertain the contractor's insurance and license status. In the event of accidents or damage during the renovation process, this will cover all parties concerned.

Never be afraid to request references from previous clients. If at all feasible, get in touch with them directly and find out how satisfied they were with the contractor's work, communication abilities, and adherence to the agreed-upon price and timetable.

You can make sure that your Ottawa kitchen renovation project goes well and without any surprises by following these steps and spending the time to choose the proper contractor.

What to anticipate when remodeling a kitchen

It's critical to know what to anticipate before beginning a remodeling. This will aid in mental preparation and make sure that everything runs as smoothly as possible. Here are some essential considerations:

1. Noise and Dust: Demolition of outdated cabinets or countertops can cause a lot of noise and dust during renovations. Throughout the course of the project, expect a lot of dust and loud noises.

2. timing: Depending on the amount of work being done, the timing for a kitchen makeover can change. It's essential to talk about this in advance with your contractor so you can estimate how long the process will take.

3. Plan for a temporary arrangement elsewhere in your Ottawa Home Renovations because your kitchen will be out of action while repairs are being done. This can entail constructing a temporary kitchen or using alternate devices like microwaves or toaster ovens.

4. The decision-making process: During the renovation process, there will probably be a number of decisions that need to be taken, such as selecting the materials, finishes, and fixtures. Before meeting with your contractor, it's helpful to do some research so you know what you want.

5. Budget considerations: The expense of kitchen renovations can quickly mount, so it's critical to establish a reasonable budget up front and adhere to it as closely as you can.

You'll be more equipped to handle any difficulties that may appear along the way if you are aware of what to anticipate throughout a kitchen makeover.

The most popular trends for kitchen renovation

Following the most recent trends will help you make your room more contemporary and useful when it comes to kitchen renovations. Here are a few of Ottawa's most well-liked kitchen makeover trends that you might want to take into account for your own project.

1. Open Concept Layout: Homeowners continue to be drawn to the trend of tearing down barriers to create an open concept layout. The seamless transition between the kitchen and other living areas makes this design ideal for hosting visitors.

2. Smart Appliances: Thanks to technological improvements, smart appliances are now essential in contemporary kitchens. These high-tech appliances, which range from voice-activated ovens to refrigerators with built-in touch displays, not only make cooking simpler but also give your home a more upscale feel.

3. Clean lines and uncluttered counters are essential components of minimalist kitchen designs. Your kitchen can have a sleek and modern appearance by choosing slim cabinets, concealed storage options, and neutral color schemes.

4. Sustainable Materials: Using sustainable materials in your kitchen remodeling not only benefits the environment, but it also improves the room's aesthetics. Think about buying cabinetry made of recyclable or reused wood or lighting fixtures that use less energy.

5. Statement lighting fixtures: A striking pendant light fixture over a dining table or island can serve as a focal point in your kitchen while giving plenty of light for preparation of meals.

You can design a fashionable yet practical area that fulfills all of your demands by combining these trendy concepts into your Ottawa kitchen renovation project.

How to keep your spending in check

Any kitchen remodeling project must focus on staying inside your budget. With so many fascinating choices, it's simple to get carried away and wind up overspending. However, with proper preparation and thought, you may create the kitchen of your dreams without going over budget.

Based on your financial status and priorities, create a reasonable budget. Decide how much you are willing to spend on various renovation components, such as flooring, worktops, cabinets, and appliances. To be sure you are receiving the best deal for your money, check pricing and compare quotes from several suppliers.

Next, rank your must-haves and desirables in order of importance. Decide which kitchen features are most important to you, then budget money accordingly. This can assist you avoid wasting money on things that might not have a big effect on the overall usefulness or beauty of your area.

If you can find cheaper materials or finishes with a similar aesthetic, take them into consideration. For instance, consider less expensive options like quartz or laminate surfaces that mirror the desired style rather than spending a lot of money on pricey marble counters.

Whenever possible, reuse existing components during a kitchen makeover to further reduce costs. Consider painting your cabinets rather than replacing them totally if they only need a makeover but are still structurally sound. This can offer a brand-new appearance for a little fraction of the price.

Be proactive in your communication with your contractor about keeping on budget at all times. Review your accomplishments and expenses frequently to make sure they are in line with your expectations and available budget.

It's usually better to be financially prepared than caught off guard, so plan for unforeseen expenses by setting aside some contingency cash in case unforeseen complications develop during the restoration process.

You may effectively accomplish an Ottawa kitchen renovation while staying on budget by paying attention to these suggestions and keeping lines of communication open with suppliers and contractors at every stage of the process. Have fun remodeling!

[vindicated-truth]

Han Joowon's greatest strength in the beginning of the series is that he strongly cares in the abstract.

What Han Joowon eventually learned through Lee Dongsik as the prime example of a living, breathing victim in himself, as well as all the people Joowon has come to know and situations he's come to experience through Lee Dongsik, is to care in the concrete.

In many ways it's easier to care in the abstract—to see things as nothing more than data and numbers—because you don't get to be emotionally involved or attached. In many ways this is also better, because you're able to assess things more logically without being blinded by emotion, as demonstrated by so many of the other characters of Beyond Evil who had fallen victim to their own emotions—including Lee Dongsik himself.

But what Han Joowon has eventually learned, first through Lee Geumhwa, and eventually through Lee Dongsik and the people of Manyang, is that you cannot turn a blind eye to the fact that the data you're dealing with are human beings, and therefore to handle things as coldly, callously, and distantly as he used to means he would inevitably make the mistake of treating this "data" as insignificant and inconsequential, when in fact he's dealing with real human lives—invaluable and irreplaceable.

He learned that the hard way through how coldly, callously, and distantly he treated his sting operation with Lee Geumhwa. And then eventually, in a much more impactful way: how coldly and callously he treated Lee Dongsik himself.

The irony in it all is that—this coldness and callousness and detachment is what Dongsik needed for himself, too.

All his life, most of the people who attached themselves to him all had hidden agendas, regardless of whether the motivation was benevolent or otherwise—foremost of these examples are Park Jeongje and Nam Sangbae, and in a much more sinister way, Kang Jinmook himself. All these agendas had kept him from finding out the truth precisely because he's too close to the people around him, blinding him from seeing them the way he should.

For him to act the way he should.

Dongsik needed that cold objectivity from Joowon himself to finally snap out of his own haze too, in finally seeing that perhaps it's the people he loves and trusts the most whom he has to protect himself from the most, too.

Lee Dongsik taught Han Joowon how love can be a strength, and demonstrated the pitfalls of caring too little.

And Han Joowon taught Lee Dongsik how love can be a weakness, and showed the pitfalls of caring too much.

It's what makes them so striking and complementary as partners:

Somehow, they found the perfect balance in knowing how to love just right.

I’ve been thinking about our sweet Han Juwon and how, even before meeting the Manyang gang, he was already passionate about finding those who were missing and lost. Whether he was aware of that fact about himself is unclear, but he truly wanted to find those missing women. Those illegal immigrant sex workers that no one else bothered with, whose deaths showed clear signs of a serial killer. How poetic it is that he eventually finds Dongsik, who not physically lost, is emotionally and almost spiritually lost, and finds himself in the process.

[thecagedsong]

You said you stopped watching MLB because of how Chat was treated; I'm curious what you meant?

Chat is supposed to be Ladybug's equal. Hawkmoth needs both to handle his wish. They are supposed to be Yin and Yang. Creation and destruction. Tikii and Plagg. The only one truly able to stop the cat is the ladybug, the only one that can mess up the ladybug is the cat. They halt each other in opposition.

Working together they are unstoppable as the union of opposites, internal and external balance, and maybe an acknowledgement of the power of friendship superseding our differences in power types and personalities and being the force that lets them accomplish everything, since this is a kids show.

Visually, based on their outfit and color scheme, in costume and out of costume, this is their theme. Personality, this fits too, when you compare their social skills in different situations.

That's the theme that is supposed to guide the story every time they are on screen, we're being told that that is the theme.

That's not what the story does. Ladybug is clearly stronger than Chat. Even in the future, Chat's the joke that accidentally cataclysms other miraculuses, causes problems, and is a nuisance no one wants to see. Marinette is the competent leader who's going to achieve her goals no matter what! She's the leader that holds all the secrets, gives all the instructions, breaks down under the pressure, but she gets stronger so it's okay! She can know everyone's identity but Chat's, because she's the best and the greatest, and we all know Chat's going to fall under mind control next week because he's a screwup, so it's totally justified right?

NO. You had such cool and important themes that could have helped turn the work into something truly great.

No one in universe, except for Plagg, cares about Chat. If it's between Adrien and Marinette, everyone but Chloe is going to pick Marinette. If it's ladybug verse chat? Everyone is going to pick ladybug. And Ladybug, the so called hero that's supposed to be his partner, talks down to him too while worshipping Adrein, who is also clearly not alright.

If they tried to use this to play into the themes of the differences between the miraculous, maybe I could get past it. Develop Chat into a lone wolf type that ladybug trusts to strike on his own while she's handling the team attacks. But Chat loves Ladybug and desperately wants friends, so they should have been developing him into a co-leadership position to emphasize the equality between them.

Instead he's still a goof that's needlessly suffering because no one trusts him/loves him, and thus delaying the plot exponentially because Hawkmoth is literally living in his house. You may argue that that changes later, but it was too much for me.

I've also come to realize that what's fun about 'monster of the week' type shows is the new cast and situations you get each week. (Note the times they do do this in the show, those make the best episodes) Scooby-doo, you have a new haunted cellar/house/lab/underground tunnel system each with, with a new cast for the who-dun-it with a mix of personal motivations that the characters jump right into and have to figure out. Sailormoon? Usagi discovered new parts of her hometown, learned about gyms and festivals and sports, and putting on plays and artist galleries, each time exploring a new character that has a life of their own and separate passions, which mirrored the themes of growing up and realizing just how different and amazing the world is now that you're old enough to start exploring it. The 3D modeling medium severely limits the new cast you can introduce, which would be fine if they were willing to develop the characters more, specifically within the themes and show marked progression in the dynamics with each other, but they aren't.

So I feel betrayed by the discarded themes as shown by the unequal treatment of Chat which unnecessarily causes him suffering and I'm bored by the uninteresting cast that can neither truly change composition or develop as characters/people.

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤ Jason Todd x Reader

➤ Warnings: gun kink, unprotected sex [don’t be silly, wrap the willy ;)]

➤ @catxsnow @internalsealpanic​ @littleredwing89

[22:50] Your lungs burn as you leapt from one building to another, begging you to slow down at once. 

No chance of that, not with the sound of heavy footsteps thundering behind you as a grunt is heard after the man chasing you lands. 

So you keep running, despite the tightness of your chest, the soreness of your feet and burning in your muscles. 

But somewhere deep inside, something urges you to stop. Something more abstract than the discomfort you feel.

"Come on, princess. Stop and let's talk this out!"

"No way in hell, you glorified eyesore!" You yell back, jumping yet another gap between buildings almost perfectly. 

Almost.

You misjudge the distance and are unable to stick the landing, rolling across the roof until you stop on your back. You don't move, already hearing how his footsteps become slower. He approaches your defeated form, panting as your ankle throbs slightly. You know you can't run anymore at this point, so why tire yourself out.

Red Hood steps over you, placing his boots on your spread arms, barely applying any pressure, just enough to send a message. 

You can hear his heave, distorted, and you imagine him to be sweating bullets under his helmet, while you cool off with the cold, humid air of late night Gotham.

"Did you need to do all that? I just wanted to talk." Red hood protests, exasperated and still panting as you do the same with a skeptical look. 

"Seems it was more your gun wanting to do the talking." You bite back, feeling small under his gaze, so far up from you, but refusing to show it. 

You can almost see his red helmet contort into a frown as you both know what you said isn't true. He may threaten you but he'd never actually shoot you. No matter how much he tries to hide it, he enjoys this dynamic of yours. And so do you. 

The sexual tension, usually pointed out by others around you, could be cut with a meat cleaver. And it just keeps building. Every encounter or skirmish usually leaves you with sticky underwear and him with tighter pants. You excite him, keep him on his toes, and he does the same to you. 

Not to mention the more intimate moments you've shared. 

Walking the grey line of morality meant that your friends could be your enemies and vice versa. For you two, it meant that one day you could be bandaging each other up (still with the masks on) and the next day you could be the ones creating a need for the bandages. 

And that is fine. You both think it's fine.

Until the tension brewing comes to a head spills over from the cauldron. 

Red Hood takes his feet away from your biceps, stepping just below them to take the weight off and still keep close. He then takes his shinny, polished gun from its holster, not yet having been used on that night. 

His large thighs flex as he crouches over your chest, placing the gun under your chin as you stare into the white eyes of his hood, hoping to catch a glimpse of what's behind. 

"Well, if that's the only way I'll get you to talk." His deep voice, seemingly deepened by the voice modulator, rumbles through your chest as he speaks. 

"There are other ways…" You whisper suggestively, mask slits lowering as you smirk seductively. The complete switch from your feisty defiance to a velvety tone and alluring expression makes him pause. 

"Oh? And what would those be?" The gun feels cool against your skin as he presses it harder against you.

"You could start by taking off your helmet." You say confidently. And just like that, the gun's pressure leaves you as he pulls it away slightly. 

Red Hood sighs deeply, shoulders dropping, "You know I can't do that, princess." 

"Not for me?"

"Not for you, not for anyone I'm afraid."

"Won't even let me try to change your mind?" You purr. Your hands crawl up his tense legs, feeling the muscles quiver under your fingertips before they settle on his hips. 

"I can't promise you anything." His tone turns stern, almost cold, but his breathing wavers at the feeling of your warm hands on his cold body. 

"Then don't. Just let me do my thing and see how you feel afterwards." You suggest, nails scratching just above his belt. His hand flexes for a moment, contemplating, before he traces his gun down your throat and towards your warm chest. 

"Think you can change my mind, do you?" His free hand brushes your hair away from your face before he grabs your chin between his gloved fingers. "Let's see what you got."

You slip your legs out from under him, placing them around his waist and throwing him off balance to the side, following the momentum and sitting yourself over him. 

Red Hood's helmet hits the floor as he lets his head fall back. You lay your weight on his middle before gripping both his wrists while leaning closer to his face. 

"You sound quite cocky. Not much reason to, since you're the one on the ground while I could just get up and run. You'd be left all alone to take care of your little problem." You whisper while grinding your ass against said problem.

"True, but we both know you don't really want to. And it's not so little, princess." His voice is deep and raspy as you continue your hip movements, taking his gun out of his hand. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Then you better start working, doll face."

You scoff at his tone before realizing the safety was off on the gun. "The safety was off?" You ask, shocked, as you turn it on, placing it by your side. 

"Sorry, forgot about it. Had more interesting things to think about." His hands reach for you before you grab them, pinning them beside his head.

"You forgot about it? Not very professional of you, considering your impulses." Your chest meets his as you lean heavily on his wrists. You both know your hold on them means close to nothing and that he could easily get out of it, but he'd allow it if it meant having fun.

"Not the impulses you should be focusing on, sweetheart." His legs bend, urging you forward and making his crotch grind against yours.

“Ooh, I’m so scared of a man whose face I can’t even see. Not to mention the fact that you clearly have a very soft spot for me, sweetheart.” You tease, grinding your hips down firmly, reveling in the deep grunt that makes him chest vibrate against yours.

Red Hood lets out a slow breath, body relaxing completely as he stays silent, “Yeah, you’re right.” he finally says, quietly, absentmindedly. You stare deep into the whites of his mask as he stays tight-lipped and seemingly contemplating something. 

"Can I trust you? Completely?" He asks before you hum, taking your hands away and sitting up. You ignore his boner poking your ass.

"Yes, of course you can." Your expression turns soft and serious as you speak. You hope he can hear your honesty more than see it through the mask. 

He nods before reaching for his helmet, "Wait!" You exclaim as your hands stop him. "What are you doing?!"

"Listen, princess. I want this and I trust you. So I'm acting on all this fucking tension because honestly, I can't wait anymore." And so you let him reach for the back of his helmet, clicking it open with a hiss, before he takes it off and you're baffled by the image before you.

His hair is short and black with a white streak, just as messy and sweaty as you expected. His eyes are a startling, pale green, and they watch your reaction for a moment before his cheeks darken. There's the beginning of dark stubble on his jaw and chin. Even the small scars all across his face, from his cheek to the bridge of his nose, add to his rugged handsomeness that nothing your mind has ever conjured up could compare to. 

"Don't comment too much. We can leave the soft stuff for another time. Right now, I just need to be inside you." The heated look in his striking eyes makes your breath stutter, along with his words. Before you smile cheekily while trailing your nails down his hard abs. 

"'Leave the soft stuff for another time?' That better mean you'll be taking me out on a date, or I'm not having it." You tease, winking at him as he smiles fondly. You take off your mask and place it by his helmet, ego massively boosted by the immensely flustered look on his face as yours is revealed. 

"Do comment all you like. And you can call me Y/N." You whisper into the night, lips a breath away from his. 

"Jason. Nice to meet you, finally."

His soft lips crash against yours as months of tension come to a head while teeth scrape and tongues battle for dominance. You lose it and let Jason suck on your tongue as you rush to unbuckle his pants after raising his shirt slightly.

You feel his hands grip your waist tightly, meaning to flip you under him, before you hold him back by placing your hands on his, "Let me ride you, please." 

"Ah fuck, doll face." Jason's voice wavers as you reach past his boxers to grab his hot member in your cold hand. Your hand moves up and down, feeling him harden fully in your palm as your forehead rests against his. 

Your lips suck on his pulse while your other hand brushes a long scar in the middle of his torso, that you refuse to comment on. 

"Princess, you better stop or I'm gonna cum. And I just wanna do it inside you." He grunts, tugging at your pants while holding your wrist to slow you down.

You take your pants off, thankful for the roof's tall walls and the fact that, for once, it isn't raining like hell. The stone digs into your knees as you settle over him once again. 

"You ready?" Jason asks as you move his cock through your folds. You're not sure of the answer. He looks too girthy for you to take without prep painlessly. But with the burning ache on your core begging to feel him inside, your patience is quickly running out, so you're sure going to try.

You sink down instead of answering, slipping only the head of his cock inside you, making his eyes widen and nearly roll back at the unexpected pleasure, before they close tightly as he struggles to hold his own hips down as you adjust.

"Ah! Doll…" He sighs, hips twitching as they try to raise against the weight of you. You hold yourself up on his stomach as your walls are stretched to their limit, trying not to impale yourself too quickly.

You breathe hard and deep as you move down, the base being thicker makes it harder and not painful, but it's worth it for Jason's face as you finally descend all the way until your hips meet his and he gasps before moaning loudly and deeply. His cheeks become even redder than before, looking to the side at his loud noise.

You lean towards his ear to whisper, moving him inside you slightly which makes him groan again, "Be as loud as you like, nobody can hear you. Plus, not sure anybody cares."

“Fuck, princess, please tell me I can move. I just wanna fuck this pussy so bad.” Jason says, hands holding onto your hips. You nod desperately, already half gone with the feeling of his hard cock fully inside, raising yourself with a whimper and dropping again.

“Shit, doll!” He exclaims, hands helping you move as his hips raise while you drop, his tip hitting you impossibly deep as a layer of sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads, hair sticking to the skin.

“Ah, Jason.” You whimper, grounding your clit against his pelvis at the bottom.

“You feel so good, doll. So warm and wet, fuck…” He sighs, hand grasping your hair and pulling your lips against his as you set a hard and fast pace. 

Your lips barely connect for more than a few moments, kisses interrupted by moans and whimpers as you breathe against each other's mouths. 

Your toes begin to curl as sparks of pleasure travel all over your flushed body, breathing heavy as your heart pounds against your chest. Your body jerks as Jason’s rough and calloused finger starts rubbing firm circles on your clit.

“You close, sweetheart? You gonna cum all over my cock? Clench even tighter, shit!” He sighs, followed by a groan as you do clench tighter around him at his dirty words while the pleasure builds.

“Jason, please! I’m so close.” You moan desperately, muscles twitching as you allow Jason to do the most work with his powerful thrusts and rough fingers.

Your back arches as you finally reach that peak, shivering, nails digging into his stomach as you let him thrust into your pussy until he lets out a grunt once he reaches his orgasm, warm filling you as his cum drips out of you and down your thighs.

You open your eyes, gazing up into the dark sky, catching your breath before looking down. Jason lays back, sighing as the aftershocks of his high wears off slowly, leaving him sated and tired, pent up tension finally released.

You lean forward, ignoring the way your pussy twitches as he nudges the inside, and placing a kiss to his red cheek and smiling at his hazy, faraway gaze.

“So, about that date, you free on Friday?”

[piscesparker]

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1

"Rise and shine, your highness!" My maid, Amber, chirped as she drew the curtains open letting the sunlight come in. I groaned and rolled to the other side, shielding my eyes from the bright light and bringing the quilt closer to my chest. I had hoped that since my classes were canceled I might have some more hours to rest but that clearly was not happening. "I hope you're excited for today." She continued. In all honesty I had no intention whatsoever to be part of welcoming the royal family for Redmont, I just wished I could stay up in my room without anyone to disturb me or tell me what lessons I have to attend every hour or so.

"Yeah, a bit." I said, removing the covers off me and slipping out of my comfortable bed.

"I really can't believe that soon the war might come to an end." Amber really was the kind of person that would talk your ears off but I, on the other hand loved listening and talking about everything that does not pertain to me running a country in the future. "And I am so excited for this new chapter in your life!" She exclaimed as I rubbed my eye, finally waking up.

"So how is he?" Her eyes glistened with hope.

"How is who?"

"Your future husband! Who else?"

My future what?

"Amber what are you talking about?" I chuckled nervously, she brought me my breakfast tray along with a newspaper sitting beside my plate of buttered toast and chamomile tea. I look at her excited face skeptically as it took the news paper and saw a collage photo of me and prince Harrison and read the headline which couldn't be missed.

The Kingdoms of Northollow and Redmont will not only be uniting in land, but also will be uniting in the form of marriage for Princess Y/n and Prince Harrison.

My eyes widened with shock. Marriage? How could dad keep this away from me? He knew how much I despised the thought of being married early and yet went on to give my hand in marriage without even asking me? Leaving my breakfast, I stormed to dad's office. At this moment I did not care that I was running around the castle bare foot and in my nightgown, I had to talk to him before he ruins my life. I was too furious to think of knocking, barging in, I slammed the paper on his desk, "Were you going to tell me you were getting me married or did I have to wait till I gave birth to your first grand child?"

He looked at me and then around the room, trying to tell me that he had visitors. "Please excuse us." He said. "Well?" I asked impatiently, hands on my hips.

"Honey I had no choice." His eyes softened, I sat down and sighed, taking in everything. "I did it for the kingdom, and I know I should have asked you but I know you would have said no."

"Of course I would!" I raised my voice and cut him off, banging my fist on the desk.

"Y/n, I know you're upset," I scoffed, upset would be an understatement, "but this is soon going to be your life, you will have to make decisions that you won't favor but it will be in the betterment of your people." He explained. It was true, the role of being a leader is always sacrificing yourself for others; I couldn't argue, as much as I wanted to I couldn't. I knew what dad was saying was right, I've been training for this. Maybe it was the suddenness that enraged me this early in the morning. Most kids get surprise gifts whereas I get surprise a marriage to someone I don't even know.

"Okay," I took a deep breath, "I will agree only on one condition." His eyes lightened up. "Since I don't know him that well, I wish to take my time to get to know him, if he is not a snob then and only then might I agree to this arrangement." Dad took some time to think about it but he agreed.

"Okay, well now I'm going to get dressed now." You gave a tight lipped smile.

"Good, because I don't want to him to see you in your night gown this early on." Dad winked.

"Dad!" I whined and went back to my room to continue my day with dread.

As I entered my room again I saw Amber cleaning up my room, she whipped her head and her eyes met my disappointed ones, "Is everything alright your highness?"

"Well yes and no." She furrowed her brows and turned her attention to me. "Apparently your king was going to get me married, without actually telling me." She let out a soft 'oh', "But don't worry, I handled it." I winked her way plopping on my bed and taking a bite of my toast. "What would you like to wear to day your highness?" Amber brought out two gowns in front of me; a silky navy blue a-line gown and a teal blue knee-length dress. "The teal blue one please."

After getting dressed, Amber helped me with my hair, putting it in a neat bun as the pins poked in my skull and light make up, nothing too heavy. Looking at the clock I saw that I had some time before the guests could arrive so I decided to take a walk with Spencer and try to clear my mind. Walking past the horses in the stable, a particular white one caught my eye and made me grin, opening the door I smile and ruffle his well-kept hair and pulling him out before putting on the reins.

Spencer wasn't only my pet he was also my friend, the only one whom I could talk my heart to and I felt like he actually heard me, it felt nice. "You know Spence, I don't think I'll ever be able to like him. What if he's a snob or worse," I paused and shuddered, "hates horses." He cried, as if he was saying that I wouldn't allow it; I smiled, "You're right, I am overthinking it."

After a refreshing walk with Spencer I entered to the hustling and bustling of servants in the castle. "Oh, there you are!" Mom called out.

"Hey mom."

"I heard what happened." She held my hand and gave a small squeeze reassuring me.  

"Did you know?" She stayed silent for longer than I expected and then nodded; I sighed.

"Did everyone beside me know that I was getting married?"

"I really am sorry, the circumstances were such, we couldn't help it." She gave an apologetic smile, and went back to her work of making sure everything was ready for the royal family's arrival. The royal family of Redmont was  very special because they were more progressed than us since it was already being ruled by their queen, her majesty Phil. I always admired her integrity and will power to actually rule a kingdom and being beloved by her people; I was more excited to meet her than her son.

My family and I stood at the doors of the castle as the fanfare blew signalling their arrival. The red and gold carriage came to a stop and her majesty made the most grand yet modest entrance, followed by her youngest, Princess Charlotte and then stepped out my nightmare. He wore a white ruffle shirt with a royal blue jacket which had a few army medals pinned to the left with ridiculously tight pants. Why was I looking at his pants? As the walked up the stairs his blonde hair bounced with every step and then his piercing ocean blue eyes met mine as he gave me a smug smile which I already despised.

"Welcome to our humble abode your majesty!" Dad greeted, giving a respected bow which she reciprocated.

"The pleasure is all ours, thank you." She smiled.

"Your majesty." A deep voice caught my attention, Harrison and put forward his hand asking me to do the same. Unwillingly I slipped my hand in his as he placed a soft kiss on my knuckles, eyes meeting once again. "Y/n, would you mind showing Princess Charlotte and Prince Harrison their rooms?" Mom asked and I nodded, "After me your highness." I flashed a small smile.

"How was your journey?" I asked Charlotte, trying to make small talk, climbing up the stairs.

"It would have been better if I wasn't accompanied by my brother dear." She rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder to the boy following us.

"Trust me siblings are annoying." I scoffed.

"Uh, ladies?" Harrison cleared his throat, "I'm right here." We ignored him and continued to laugh. I lead Charlotte to her room first, "This is your room your highness," I said opening the doors and letting her enter, "and you will have your maid here in case you need anything at all, please do not hesitate."

"Thank you," she smiled, "but please call me Lottie, highness seems to formal, now that we are going to be in-laws soon." She teased as I sent a nervous smile her way. I turned around to show Harrison his room when I crashed into his strong chest, he placed his firm hand on my hips to save me from falling, "Falling so soon for me?" He smirked. "You wish." I cleared my throat and balanced myself. We walked in silence to his room, "Well, this is your room." I licked my lips, "Your butler will be here if you need anything at all."

"Well I did want something." He called out before I left, "Where is your room?"

Excuse me? "Its down the hall, third door," I said hesitantly, "why may I ask?"

"Well my butler can't give me everything I want, I'll see you at dinner." He winked at me and closed the door, leaving me in the hallway absolutely baffled. What did he mean by that? I knew something was wrong about him.

General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @peaches-parker @mischiefmanaged011 @hollanderfangirl @calltothewild @parkerpeter24 @whatthefuckimbisexual @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theliterarymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman @keithseabrook27

Harrison Osterfield Taglist: @hollandbroz-n-haz @hjoficrecs @euphorichxlland @asshatgrace @anissalime @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

Betraying the bond taglist: @in-some-fandoms @frenchfrostpudding @sheranatic111 @kickingn-ames @tomhollander96 @minejungwoo @multific @emistrash @thisetaernallove @angelsgrxzer @hellomadambutterfly @britishvamps @falconxbarnes @bicyhot1 @romanodgers

Strike through means I couldn't tag you

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Hello!!! I've been getting back into FE3H recently and the blue lions have been living in my head rent free sdgkfkdk

If you're not too busy may I have some hcs or a scenario (whichever you feel like) of mage!reader asking Felix to teach them swordfighting? Maybe they surprise him by incorporating magic into their sword attacks (like using it as a distraction or empowering their strike with magic?) I feel like Felix would be interested in someone with such a unique combat style lol

Sorry if this is too specific!! Feel free to yeet some of the premise if that makes it easier to write uwu

P.S. - I just love the way you write Felix!! You've really got his character pinned down and everything you write about him is so on point!!!! Keep up the great work owo!!!!

{Not me blushing because a stranger said I nailed down a fictional character’s personality lmao. I love writing for felix...he’s just so...”felix” lol. Not that I have favorites or anything yes, yes I do}

Edit: Okay so, I just finished this and realized you wanted FELIX to be the one teaching the reader and not the other way around. I am so sorry but I hope this suffices? I saw “felix interested in someone with unique combat style” and just went ham with this without double checking 

Request for @cattycattitude

“This is a waste of time. I should have known better than to ask you for help,” 

“Excuse me? Are you seriously blaming me for your incompetence?” 

“I’m only ‘incompetent’ because this technique is stupid and unorthodox” 

“Yeah, well this ‘stupid and unorthodox’ technique is the reason you weren’t shanked in the back last battle, am I right? or am I right?” 

Felix huffed in frustration, reaching behind his head to readjust his hair tie. (Y/N) had a point, he was the one who bugged them to teach him their sword technique. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever come across during his personal training, and after some prying he learned that Professor Byleth hadn’t taught it to them. Not every mage bothered with physical combat like swords, lances, or axes; yet, (Y/N) apparently enrolled with a near veteran level proficiency.  It was only natural he grew curious and wanted to learn. What he didn’t expect was for them to be so willing to teach. 

With a clatter they threw their training sword to the ground and stalked off into the storage room. Their footsteps loud as they briskly walked away from the argument, and for a moment he felt his lips dip to a scowl. Felix didn’t mean to come off as ungrateful, but he didn’t know how to contain his frustration. He meant to say that he was wasting their time, not his own. He was aiming to be a swordsman, what made him think he could learn a mage’s technique? 

“Enough with the wood. We’re going in strong and with a little tough love I’m certain you’ll get it,” His thoughts halted when cold steel was shoved into his hand. He glared at the weapon, clenching the hilt tight enough to turn his knuckles white.  

“Felix, knock it off. I mean it,” (Y/N) said, narrowing their eyes at him from across the room. 

“This isn’t going to work-” 

“I don’t get you. What is up today?” They cut him off, lowering their guard. Their brows crinkled in a way he only saw during strategy meetings, as if they were analyzing him. Almost as if he was fogged up glass.

“Normally you’re so determined. I saw you harass Bernadetta for weeks- weeks! Just to get her to help you. You always want to be the best you can be, and don’t give me that ‘unorthadox’ bullshit because you’re one of the most tenacious fighters here,” they paused, and he heard them gasp like someone drove a shiv into their back. “Is it- is it me? Am I just a bad teacher?” 

Felix didn’t know how to respond. He was a very prideful man who struggled with failure. He did want to be the best, and knew that he would be one day. He also knew he shouldn’t have taken his anger out on them, someone who only wanted to help him achieve his goals. It made him happy to be supported, yet multiple failures in front of someone he respected made him feel weak. 

Felix sighed, taking a calming breath before loosening his grip on the sword. 

“Show me again,” he said. he expected them to take their stance but instead they came towards him. He arched an eyebrow but caught a glimpse of how their nose and ears tinged red. 

“Let’s try something else. I want you to close your eyes” 

“What?” 

“Just do it,” they reached for his sword hand, wrapping their own around it and securing a grip on the blade. He complied, feeling their other hand rest between his shoulder blades. 

“Relax. Follow my instructions,”

“This is stupid,”

“No, it isn’t. Relax your shoulders but keep your grip on the sword firm. Don’t worry about form right now and focus solely on your weapon,” their voice was quiet, yet made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. 

“Do you meditate, Felix?” they asked, adjusting his grip to hold his sword straight. 

“No,” 

“You should. A balanced mind is a balanced body as well,” they shifted him again and he felt the tension in his shoulders release. His breathing began to even out as their calm tone unconsciously relaxed his guard. 

“Good, good. Has Byleth taught you any offense spells? Fire? Miasma? Blizzard?” 

“Thunder. My magic pool wasn’t strong enough to handle anything else at the time,” 

“Cast it,” they let go aside from his hand, and suddenly the air felt more cold. 

“What?” His grip tensed, causing them to rub circles on the back of his palm. The familiar heat returned, but accompanied by a tight feeling in his chest. If he casted that now then they’d get electrocuted. 

“Relax and trust me. Don’t think and just cast the spell,” 

“...fine,” He did think. Felix focused on the gentle hand drawing patterns over the scars on his wrist. He basked the comforting presence of his friend, one who he’d shared many fights as well as laughs with. Someone who believed in him enough to take his harsh words time and time again, yet still chose to deal with him after sorry excuses for apologies. He felt a familiar heat build in his stomach and grimaced as it flowed to his palm. 

He cast the spell, waiting for them to gasp in pain before giving up all together. 

“Now would you look at that! A mighty fine thunder-bade if I do say so myself.”

He opened his eyes and they were right. The steel sword had a thin coat of light emitting from it and practically reeked of conducted energy. It was impressive considering Felix never had a knack for magic, but what really did it over was the haughty grin his ‘teacher’ wore. 

“Told ya you could do it. Was I right, or was I right ?” Their laugh rang against the stone walls, and if it was anyone else he may have shocked them for payback. 

“You were right,” he chuckled, moving into a combat stance. Their grin only grew, and his eyes creased in admiration when they ran to get their own sword. In a split second it sparked to life with fire, much easier than the long process he had to go through. 

They were a good teacher, and a great solider. One someone prideful as himself would eagerly spend the rest of his life with, fighting or otherwise.  

[4aloysius-porteu]

i really wish i hated you || tsukishima kei

masterlist | 1 | chapter 2  | 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x f! reader

sypnosis: It was an accident that (Y/N) met a certain tall, blonde male; a memory she isn't fond of remembering, but it is where it all started. And ever since, she magically makes her to his path. The image of the bespectacled man dwelled in her mind more than she thought. Tsukishima pushed away his softer emotions and denied their existence, or at least that's what he told himself. But then, he couldn't believe that this girl he labeled as a clumsy, unlucky creature who smashed his glasses is slowly bringing these strange emotions back to him. She might be irritating and dumb sometimes, but he couldn't get himself to completely hate her. Either that destiny was stupid, or he was blessed or cursed.

genre: fanfiction, fluff

wc: 1881

(Y/N) stopped her tracks upon hearing his voice and turned around to confirm, but it was true, much to her dismay. He held his black-rimmed glasses with its left lens and frame cracked. The girl's mind went blank. She hesitantly glanced at him a few times, hoping that he would forgive her or let the incident smoothly slide.

He hissed, "Don't think you can get away with this, miss."

She sighed in defeat. The kids approached her with worried looks. She patted her heads, accepting their sympathy. "Well, playtime's over."

"But we haven't finished the game!"

"Do you still want to play?"

"Yes!"

"Next time, when you see me again at the park. Onee-chan has to go now."

She bade goodbye to the children and walked towards the guy she hit with his friend. She looked at his broken glasses again and couldn't help but to let out an exhale with anxiety. This is the result of my stupidity...

"W-What do you want me to do?" (Y/N) slurred.

" I don't know, maybe you should fix it right here and right now." The blonde guy crossed his arms and frowned.

Why don't you just get to the point?

"Replace it."

Of course, she will have to replace it. What a question to ask. She mentally rolled her eyes.

"I'll check there out if there's an optical store, I guess you will have to keep an eye on me so that I won't escape?" She pointed to the nearby mall, walking distance from the park.

"What else? Nobody trusts a stranger."

They reached the town's mall and saw an open optical store, but (Y/N) remembered her wallet. She wasn't sure if there's enough money for her to buy glasses.

"On the second thought, can I buy the glasses tomorrow? I don't think I have enough money."

"No." He instantly replied.

"Tsukki," His green-haired companion interrupted, "Maybe we can give her a chance? What if she's telling the truth?"

"I need my glasses in my everyday life, and if she doesn't have the money, I'll be happy to spare her some, but she'll have no choice to be in my debt."

How merciless. It's not like (Y/N) could blame him, but if the same thing happened to her, she would treat them nicely. She looked around the store to find a pair of glasses exactly like his, as he demanded, with his friend helping her for 30 minutes. After she gets the correct measurements and eye grade, she emptied her wallet to pay for the damn thing,

"Here." She held out the new glasses in the case. "Take care of them, it costed my LAST savings."

He took them and wore them immediately, "I am taking care of my glasses, it's just someone 'accidentally' kicked a ball on my way and knocked them off. Thank you for the horrible experience."

He excused himself and walked away. His friend stayed to talk to her.

"I'm sorry for the way he acted, he's like this most of the times. Please understand," He bowed, shyness evident in his voice.

"It's okay, it was completely my fault, so I don't mind."

"It was an accident, though. Thank you for your generosity." He soon followed the blondie that headed first.

"That was mandatory, though." (Y/N) lightly chuckled to herself.

She got out of the mall to take in the fresh air, but her soul almost left her body when a bolt of lightning strikes a tree near her, setting it on fire.

"Oh, my fucking- Did the sky just attempted to finish me?!" She said, calming herself down and looking up. The clouds were much darker than earlier.

As the townspeople bombed the burning tree with water, she ran to her apartment before it rains. There, she dropped her things on the couch and flopped to her bed, thinking what happened on this day because of her own stupidity. She groaned when she held her now empty wallet.

"Argh! Why am I so unlucky?!"She threw her wallet in frustration.

"That tall, blonde, asshole! He didn't need to embarrass me in front of people! I didn't mean it! He could've waited for tomorrow for me to replace his glasses! He's so unforgiving!" She complained, hating the thought of the said guy.

She sighed, cringe, anger, and embarrassment filling her head as she hugged her pillow.

"May karma comes to him sometime," was her last words before drifting off to a nap.

A few days passed, she went out of the house again to buy food supplies in a convenience store. It was almost nighttime. The chilly wind blew to her face and the sweet scent wafted in the store. She picked up some junk food and meat first before stopping by the confectioneries section. While choosing what shortcake flavor to pick, she bumped into something that almost made her fall to the floor, if she hadn't retained her balance.

"Oof, I'm sorry..."

Or rather, it was a person she bumped into.

She looked up and recognized the face of the man. It was the guy she's kind of mad at, but this time, he didn't have his nice friend with him.

(Y/N) took a step back, "You!"

The male looked back at her, tilting his head, observing the girl. He spoke with a monotonous expression, "Do I know you?"

Her eye twitched in irritation, "He doesn't remember me?!"

"I was the girl in the playground three days ago! I... I replaced your glasses!" She said, hesitating on the next sentence.

"Oh." His eyebrows raised, "Did the midget learned her lesson not to play a sport she's bad at?" He mocked.

"I'm not even a soccer player to begin with! What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to buy food in a convenience store like a normal person?"

"I've been buying stuff here and I've never seen a similar face I've met twice in a week or month. That's sus."

"Maybe you are following me."

"What do I gain by following a huge, mean person like you?" (Y/N) retorted.

"Perhaps you want to get back at me after what happened days ago even if it's your fault. I don't know. Ask yourself." He took his eyes off her to choose among the sweet desserts.

She paused, analyzing his comment, "Well, you aren't completely wrong..."

"So, I am being followed? What a stalker."

"Of course not! What you said might be possible, but it's not the case right now!"

Both of them have set their eyes on an item and surprisingly the same one. A strawberry shortcake in the middle of the section. Their hands both grabbed the object before staring at each other in annoyance.

"Let go." They chorused.

"I chose it first." Said (Y/N).

"I do not see your name in it. You let go." He replied.

"How about no?"

They glared at each other for a few minutes before (Y/N)'s brows creased deeper in the middle, knowing well that this guy won't back down. "Whatever, you take it. I don't care anymore."

"Wow, thanks." He subtly rolled his eyes then walked away.

It was very awkward in the cashier where she had to wait behind him. Damn, he's so tall. Does he play any sport? Is he human? Or probably just a walking, mean tree?

What happened in the park flashed in (Y N)'s mind again. The impact of the ball might have been so painful to him since he wears glasses, where it cracked. What if the shards got into his eyes? Her wallet isn't ready for more payments, but that isn't the issue right now. She was worried about his well being. Both of them got out of the convenience store and she called the blonde male before he could get away again.

"Uhh, hey!"

He looked over his shoulder a little, "What?"

"Are your eyes okay? I mean, your glasses cracked... shards could've got inside your eyes..."

"Yes, they're fine, fortunately."

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. "That's... good to hear."

"But if something happened to my eyes, I will not hesitate to find you and make you pay for an eye surgery."

"You're exaggerating."

"It's not impossible. Now, go home. Elementary school students shouldn't go past the curfew."

She frowned. If only he wasn't a stranger, she would've kicked his ass to hell.

"Oh, gladly. I wouldn't want to stay near a bootleg Eiffel Tower any longer. Have a good day for you."

The blonde male left without any more words. (Y/N) sighed again in mental exhaustion, having to finish a lot of things this night. She was walking straight to her home while thinking of ideas to put in her current project when she realized that he was still walking ahead in front of her.

Where is he going?

She made her footsteps lighter, not wanting him to think that she was following him. She was thinking where does this guy live or why is he walking the same route as she does. It's not wrong to know where does this asshole stay, right? This continued for a couple of minutes before he turned around.

"Will you stop following me?"

Her eyes widened, not expecting him to know that she was behind him, "Excuse me? I'm just walking to my place?"

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

(Y/N) looked around to find a way to escape. There, she saw her house that she almost missed because her mind was occupied, "Oh, look. It's my house. I gotta go!"

She waved goodbye to the blonde stranger, ran to her apartment, and slammed the door, dying from the awkwardness. She proceeded to the kitchen to drop the food supplies and to cook for herself as well. The salt in the cupboard reminded her of the rude, four eyes that she just met again minutes ago. That's when she realized, she kept calling him either insults or his evident physical features when he probably has a name. She could've asked for his name earlier, but shrugged the idea off, thinking that he will never give her his name.

The common thing to do after graduating junior high is to find a decent high school. (Y/N) is scheduled to have her entrance exams next week, so she has to spend time reviewing her notes these days. She opted to go to the prefectural library the next day to get further references as she isn't satisfied with the books she has. It was Wednesday, thus it was full of people who are also preparing for their entrance exams. With her stature, it'll be easy to pass in this crowd of people but she will have to ask for help because she can't reach the books at the top of the shelves.

After wandering around the crowded library, she found an unoccupied table to quietly study. She made her way to it, carrying the heavy books she needed that was luckily located at the bottom shelves. As she set the books on the left side of the table, someone did the same on the opposite side. She looked up to see who the stranger is, only to find out that the person isn't a stranger to her anymore.

"Oh, the midget stalker is here." 

©4aloysius.porteu.2021. please do not repost, copy, or edit. plagiarism is punishable by law.

[amethystpath-writes]

Revenge of The Two Weeks (3)- that's right. We named it, folks.

Continuation of this original story.

Continued directly from here!

@tears-and-lilies @whatwhumpcomments

If anyone would lile to be added or removed from any tag lists, plz let me know! I don't mind either way!

Heed the tags.

******

The flaps of Hero's tent flapped in the wind, distracting him slightly from the task at hand. The commander was testing his strategy; he was testing all of the mens' strategy, trying to figure out who might gain his own title when he retired- if he ever retired.

Hero picked the tip of his finger up off of the map, replacing it with another finger on his other hand while he moved his first to the right side of the parchment. The commander was wanting to expand to the eastern part of the lands. Problem was the number of geological obstacles: craters, hills, ponds, and mushy swamp-like areas galore.

Sighing, Hero threw his head back. It seemed impossible. He eyed the blue flag closest to his right finger, picked it up, and threw it over the shoulder. There, he thought, Get rid of the bloody pond. If only it worked that way.

There were three blue flags, all within several hundred meters- realistically speaking- of one another. Very little room for our legions. Hero debated whether or not to fight on horseback. As great and obedient as the horses were, they were large and clumsy in close proximity. With little space, there was too much room for error. So no horses. That fixes that problem.

One yellow flag. The marshes. A big ole stretch of hard-to-walk-through mush, at least for a human. So yes to the horses. Or no? God, I don't know. The swampish lands would result in more army and artillery men's deaths than if a few horses fell into the ponds. Keep the horses. And that would allow for the use of their bows, which would presumably be an advantage.

The horses will require resting breaks. What would happen if they exhausted a bunch of them? Men would have to walk, which would exhaust them. That was better than all of the men exhausting themselves at least.

Hero bounced a fist off the table. This was so frustrating. He thought, now, maybe he wasn't cut out to serve under the commander's- and certainly not the king's- name. But he had to. Because fighting was all Hero could do. He wasn't good at anything else, but if he failed in this test of strategy, he was done for. He'd be demoted, become one of those scavengers of the army who were responsible for picking up dismembered body parts and burning them. How disgusting. How lowly. How vile.

"You kept the dagger."

Hero gritted his teeth together, jaw askew. He didn't need to turn to know who that was. "Yeah? It's my dagger. Just because you stole it from me then gave it back doesn't mean it hasn't always been mine. Of course I kept it."

The tent flaps were quiet, Hero realized. Villain must have been holding them still. It was with this information that he began reaching for his dagger, saying as a distraction of sorts, "Do you remember Grandad?"

Villain laughed. "Don't try to settle me with your old stories. I don't care about them anymore."

"You used to." Hero swallowed, adjusting the handle of his dagger until it felt just right.

Spiders crawled up his spine to the base of his skull. He spun, dagger held with the blade outward. This hadn't been his plan. First, Hero's plan had been to launch the dagger at the wooden tent post, just close enough to scare Villain. But now he was in front of him.

"Cute," his younger brother commented, and pushed Hero's wielding hand aside. "But I have my own." He hummed. "You give into me so easily. You ought not to, for your own sake. To me it's fascinating, but who knows when I might actually decide to slit your throat?" It was with this that Villain brought his own dagger to Hero's neck. "And what would you ever do to stop me? You already had the chance to both throw a blade at me and stab me with it. You've done neither."

Hero rolled his eyes. Villain was shorter than him which only aided in the harshness of the sharp dagger on his neck. His brother was pushing up at a cruel angel, one that Hero had to avoid swallowing against.

"What do you want me to tell you? You're right, okay? You're right. I have guilt and I hoped that I'd never see you again because of it. But you're alive." He took a breath. "It's up to you what you do with your life from here. You can chase me around crazily as you have been, thus driving me to continue ignoring you every chance I get. Or," Hero ventured, "we can work on reestablishing what lost relationship we had."

The knife cut in. Hero squeezed his eyes shut, let his nostrils flare. A warm trickle slid down his neck into his uniform. "You might not want to maim a trusted person of the Guard and Commander."

"Oh, I don't think that matters much." Villain cocked his head to the side, peering at the map left on the table behind Hero. "If anything, I'd replace you. The Commander likes tough boys, isn't that still right?" He sighed. "I know I overstayed my two weeks in the woods, but well..." Villain laughed. "After a wolf tore my friend and a six year old child apart before eating them, the woods actually welcomed me. I'd tell you where I stayed, but I promised the boys I wouldn't compromise them."

Hero's breath caught. "Some of them still live in the woods?" He tried to pull back, away from the blade, but Villain pushed it forward as Hero pulled back.

With a shrug, Hero's younger brother- who had been gone, presumably dead, for five years said, "Sure. Not all of them felt like returning to a place that couldn't accept them as they were. They found new families, ones that fought to keep them alive. They became brothers to one another."

"How poetic." Hero scoffed. "They should be brought back. They're not safe out in the woods."

The dagger slashed through the air, away from Hero's neck, but not straying at all from his shoulder. Hero hollered out, but Villain clamped a hand over his mouth before anyone else could hear. Not that it mattered. Like Villain said before, the worst that could happen was Hero lost his position, which Villain certainly didn't mind. Still, he wanted to torture his older brother this way for a little longer before he did anything too drastic.

"Funny," Villain spat, stance like a cobra ready to strike. "You didn't say that when you led us all to the woods before. Do you know how old the youngest was?" His voice was venom.

"Six."

"No, that's just the one who died. My friend who was also killed by the wolf was sixteen- just to give you a little perspective."

"Five, then."

"Three or four." Villain explained, "He didn't even know his own age." And then he turned to blame, "You left him in the woods. You took him away from his family, and you are the reason he's going to grow up always overexerting himself to please others, only to feel like he's never enough."

Villain bit his tongue to stop himself, but then said it anyways. "I'll be surprised if he doesn't kill himself in three or more years. He feels like a disappointment to himself, Hero, because a man he was supposed to look up to told him he wasn't enough and then sent him off into the woods- where he watched every horrific image you can think up happen."

"I don't know what you want from me!" Hero roared, and this time he finally did move to fully strike a blow on his brother. He shoved his shoulders hard enough that Villain nearly fell on his bottom.

Lucky for Villain, he was able to balance himself out before that could happen.

"I'm sorry, alright! I'm sorry that I failed the four or five of you-"

"Seven of us."

"-and that I was too cowardice to see for myself if you lived or died. I'm sorry. But I can't do anything to fix it except offer myself to you now. So that's what I'm doing, Villain. I'll be a better brother this time around. If you're looking for something, some sort of closure though...you're not going to find it another way. Because no matter how much you torture me, you'll never be satisfied knowing that I left you. That I created memory after memory with you just to leave you to packs of vicious wolves and hungry, lonesome bears.

"I fucked up, Villain, I know I did. But I can't fix it now. I was- and am still- just as scared as you were in those woods. Different scenario, but same, same hot-coaled fear. I'm sorry I wasn't as brave as I made myself sound. I wanted to be a role model to you, but I- I don't know, brother." Hero sat on a cot in the tent, put his head in his hands for a moment before looking up again.

"The Commander is a daunting man and I found myself cowering. You haven't seen him, Villain, haven't endured the training he puts us through, or the screaming he does- like we're prisoners of an enemy kingdom and not soldiers of his own. I'm not making excuses for myself; I know I was wrong. I know what I did is unforgivable, but I'm begging you, brother, please-" Hero kneeled, throwing his knees to the floor, tilted his head to the ground with eyes closed "-please try to understand."

A hand landed on Hero's soldier, but he kept his head down. He wished he would have opened them before, for a new pain bloomed in his shoulder. His mouth became gaped and he choked on the feeling, especially as it spread.

Villain twisted the dagger with a sick satisfaction. "I'll understand when you walk yourself into the woods for two weeks."

Twist. A sharp gasp. Ragged breathing.

"When you hear the deep growl of a wolf- deeper and more impactful than thunder."

Another twist. A pained holler and cry.

"When you watch the person who did everything they could to make you feel at home dies as he's immobilized by razor teeth in their leg. And when the teeth finally rip into the throat of a boy who doesn't want to die after minutes of fighting."

A plunge of the dagger. A wordless scream. A limp body- still breathing, but in so much pain that it can't even think of moving- against Villain's leg.

"When you wake up with your own bloodied fists and two piles of bones and drawn out, tattered rags beneath you- because you slept on a branch in a tree to avoid getting eaten yourself. When you spill every ounce of fluid in your body out into a creek because you're so traumatized. When you suffer the way I did...when you spend just the first week in the woods like I did, maybe then I'll try to understand."

As a finish, Villain yanked his dagger from his brother's shoulder and said, "You don't get to keep this one." He wiped the blood off on his pant-leg and walked out.

******

@badthingshappenbingo

Original Work

Knife to the Throat

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY

Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **

Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.

You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)

The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California. 

It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her. 

Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked. 

That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.

He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.

Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.

Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.

Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.

Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.

Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.

She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.

Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.

The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?

Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.

Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.

Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.

One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.

When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.

Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.

"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.

"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.

The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.

Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.

"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.

"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."

Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.

"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.

"No problem, I actually despise–

"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."

Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.

"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.

"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."

"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.

"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.

With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.

"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.

"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.

Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.

"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.

They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.

"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.

"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.

She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.

"This was an amazing date."

Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.

They said their farewells.

"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.

Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.

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TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson​ @mellamolayla​ 

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

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Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.

[countessofbiscuit]

What are your Bobasoka headcanons? I've already gone through all of the (criminally little) fic on ao3 and I especially loved Smothered and Covered, and I saw the majority of the fics in the tag were gifted to you so I'm assuming you're the OG shipper. Feel free to essay if you like!!

Thanks for the ask and kind words about that fic :3 

Oh, Bobasoka … where to begin? It’s a pairing that’s been bumping around in exchange requests for a few years — I figure it’d be easy for anyone invested in Ahsoka’s relationship with the clones to be compelled by the idea. Lledra used to draw Boba and Ahsoka interacting, and it was probably a few panels of their incredible Destinies comic that set my Bobasoka wheels turning. I’m also drawn to them because their journeys traverse so much canon; there’s not just a sandbox to play in, but a whole goddamn stretch of beach, stretching far out into the horizon ...  (#AhsokaLives #BobaSurvived :D)

I have to lead with the proviso that almost everything I write/daydream about/headcanon has a groundsheet of Rexsoka. Ahsoka’s interest in Boba, in my head, is intimately tied up with her attraction to and/or relationship with Rex — or, at the bare minimum, her intimate fellowship with the clones. She went through puberty (maybe with heats!) surrounded by a literal army of handsome, roughly college-aged dudes; that must’ve been a heady mix of heaven and hell. If she didn’t quench her thirst before war’s end and her (eventual) separation from Rex, she’d probably be pretty dehydrated when stumbling across Boba. As for Boba’s attraction to Ahsoka, well ... she’s very pretty, she’s potentially useful, she’s not likely to skewer him in his sleep (+2) on account of being a Jedi (-1), and now she’s the one down on her luck; if he falls in bed with anyone, why not this girl who isn’t afraid of him and stares a lot at his lips?                         

And Boba is like a hot shipping potato — satisfying, hard to fuck up, goes well (read: makes for an intriguing story) with almost everyone. And I think it has everything to do with his liminality, something he shares with Ahsoka and probably recognizes.          

Their neither-this-nor-that-ness overlap in such interesting ways, and they each bring their identity issues to the table — Ahsoka as an on-again, off-again Jedi; Boba as a clone who isn’t a Clone™, a Mandalorian by birth and bearing, but not by the book. At different points in their stories, they identify as different things, and that would affect their headspace and color their view of the other. They wrestle with themselves and each other. Force-user and bounty hunter; privileged topsider and orphaned juvenile delinquent fugitive; GAR commander and outcast clone; Jedi and Mandalorian; Disillusioned veteran and disaffected army brat; Rebellion agent and Imperial contractor.

And as much conflict is baked into these dynamics, it also generates a certain magnetism; and I believe they recognize, on some level, their shared trauma and the symmetry in their experiences. Boba and Ahsoka both have happy childhoods with very little to distress or vex them (beyond the art, I do not jive with Age of Republic: Jango Fett, a Disney-canon comic that not only doubles-down on the Jango-wasn’t-Mando nonsense, but shows him being rather cavalier about Boba’s life); Geonosis happens and their adolescent lives are dominated by war (which is how they came to actively threaten each other as space!secondary-schoolers — whaaaaatf!); they are both dubiously (even wrongfully) imprisoned; and they both suffer alienation and incredible personal loss.  

Boba was set apart from the clones before he was even pulled him from the jar, othered and elevated from the beginning. He never bonded with brothers, he does not identify as a clone. And while there are examples of clones making overtures to him, canonically his relationship with them is fraught and probably made worse when he gets banged up in Republic Central at the tender age of eleven or twelve — and of course, Ahsoka is an accessory to this, the second chapter in his tragedy at the hands of the Jedi. He needed help (whether he wanted it or not), it was not given by clones or Jedi alike (hamstrung by bureaucracy, sure, but surely some other means of intervention might have been lobbied for?), and Boba becomes a right teenage disaster, well-balanced only in the sense that he has a chip on both shoulders.

(n.b. Putting my RepComm hat on for a second, I can’t help but sniffle-laugh at the idea that the Alphas watched him get thrown in a maximum-security slammer and were like “Ah, there he is, the feral vod’ika. First time, we’ll let the little snot earn his stripes. Second time, we’ll bust him out and send him on a tough love retreat with A’den or Jaing.”)

Ahsoka, meanwhile, is part-and-parcel of the institutions that Boba sets himself against, even after she too has been cast out by circumstances beyond her control. She grows up in a supportive Jedi community and then spends some seriously formative years with a whole slew of brothers — brothers that should have been Boba’s! 

Boba, on the other hand, is a great example of the proverb that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. (As he tells Hondo, “Why should I help anybody? I’ve got no one.”) 

The resentment that must create! But also, later, the quiet empathy too — maybe when Boba’s having one of his better days and Ahsoka’s obviously not. 

And all of the above is interesting enough, without also touching upon the wildcard that is Mandalore.

Boba’s relationship with Mandalore .... well, that’s contested in- and out-of-universe and I won’t allow myself to essay overmuch. I subscribe firmly to a Mandalorian Fetts construction of canon, even though Boba must be someone who struggles mightily with Mandalorian identity. He’s raised by a bona fide Mando, a solicitous, loving father who’d have no reason not to pass on his language and beliefs; but at the same time, it takes that village, and when Boba’s clan of two is shattered, he has no one else. The loss of his dad unmoors him from his only anchor to Mandalorian culture and clan.

If Boba had been close to the Cuy’val Dar, one would think he’d have turned to them rather than fall in with Jango’s criminal acquaintances; or maybe the bounty hunters just scooped him up first, and troubled lil’ Boba was shepherded through bereavement by folks who enabled and encouraged him to externalize his anger in a way that gave him a (false) feeling of agency and strength. 

Whatever the reasons, Boba does not repatriate himself to Mandalore (much to Fenn Shysa’s melodramatic dismay). He strikes me as a lapsed Mandalorian; he doesn’t exactly follow the creed besides wearing the armor (scavenged? his dad’s sans helmet? canon is confused on this point, but he doesn’t go Mando until the unfinished arcs at the end of TCW, either for lack of stature, lack of armor, or lack of enthusiasm). I feel like if someone rocked up to Boba in a cantina and had the balls to ask “hey, so you a Mandalorian?” Boba would be like “<ominously slow helmet tilt> who’s asking” and never give you a straight answer.

Meanwhile, Ahsoka gets a crash course on Mandalore from none other than someone who, at one point, belonged to a sect that wanted to expunge Jaster’s legacy from the galaxy — and at the very least, had reason to dislike clones. This isn’t the place to explore my Boba/Bo-Katan feelings, but know that they are fathomless, and I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall of that Kom’rk when Bo-Katan gives Ahsoka Mando History 101 with her own special sauce. Ahsoka is probably more up-to-speed on Mandalore than Boba, and at one point, she may even own more beskar than him! (n.b. After the crash, I think one of the first places Rex and Ahsoka bounce is just inside Mando space, to scope out the Sundari situation and maybe try to scramble a signal to Bo-Katan; she’d have the goodwill to at least get them back on their feet if she can’t help them lay low herself. For a variety of reasons worth maybe ficcing down the line, they aren’t successful.)

I don’t really have a concluding statement except, I just think Bobasoka’s neat :) They hit all my depressed-Millennial buttons.

Headcanon by bullet-point isn’t really my style, but this is tumblr so ... tl;dr:

They recognize a lot in each other, even if they’re slow to admit it, if ever. Boba’s a cagey bastard and Ahsoka doesn’t ever like him enough to be emotionally honest.

They bump into each other during Ahsoka’s walkabout(s) ‘cause Coruscant’s Underworld ain’t big enough for the two of them. Without Slave-1, Boba couchsurfs at Nyx Okami’s garage, but he does his laundry at Rafa’s. He might even borrow the Martez’s new, useful friend for a job or two. 

Ahsoka eventually matures enough to be sensitive about her use of the Force on and around clones, and she definitely doesn’t use it around Boba. Definitely not during sex.

Boba is privately weirded out every time Ahsoka uses Mando slang she picked up off the clones or the Nite Owls.

Boba absolutely kills Cad Bane in that shoot-out, keeps the hat, and lets Ahsoka have it. She shoves it out the airlock and uses it for target practice. 

So many great smut flavours! Hatesex. Acquaintances with benefits. “You’re traumatized and touch-starved and you look just like him/them, and I know how to be gentle and what to do, so maybe we could … ?” They’re both privately comfortable with their bodies and sexuality, but Boba’s got trust issues a parsec long and Ahsoka’s lost confidence; it’s always an awkward affair, but desperation wins out.

They exchange comm codes every time they run into each other, which is kind of pointless because they both use burners.

Ahsoka hitches a ride on Slave-1 more than once. There really is only one bed, so it’s either sleep upright, sleep in a pokey prisoner hold, or sleep with him.

For a few years, Boba can pass as a last-generation clone — the ones that got sold off in bulk units to slavers before Kamino sunk another three years’ food, board, and training into them. Boba pretends he doesn’t notice, easy to really, since he tells himself his helmet is his face. But occasionally, when Ahsoka can convince him there’s profit in it, he agrees to play sleeper agent and assists in liberating a few here and there. 

They don’t talk about Aurra Sing.

When an Imp really crosses him, Boba passes on intel to Ahsoka to ruin their day.

Once, when they’re both super skint, Ahsoka volunteers to get handed in to some relatively minor and out-of-the-way Imperial garrison, so Boba can collect, bust her out, and split the pot with her. It’s the closest she ever comes to telling him “I trust you” — and when he brushes the idea aside, citing something about risk, it’s the closest he ever comes to telling her “I love you.”

Boba sees Inquisitors as muscling in on his game. There are so many lousy Force-users around nowadays, it should be easy pickings, but Inquisitors get privileged information. So he makes sport out of misdirecting them, especially from Ahsoka. 

When he pisses her off, Ahsoka fantasizes about Bo-Katan taking Boba down a peg or two while she watches :)))

Boba experienced Ahsoka’s heat once, secondhand through a cabin wall. He thought he was being clever by shooting Rex up with some Nevoota stim pollen, locking him in with Ahsoka, and hijacking their locked ships. Longest three days of his life, limping on broken hyperdrives and shared fuel stores to the nearest waystation to a soundtrack of violent lovemaking : \

Bounty hunters invariably bump into spies and agents because they work in the same areas. The agents pretend to be bounty hunters, eccentric business people, sex workers, or a range of other things. Sometimes each party knows all about the other, but it’s only polite not to mention it. This happens to Ahsoka and Boba A LOT, especially once she becomes Fulcrum; rebel cells and Imperials often want the same people. Occasionally they exchange fire. A couple times Boba gets imprisoned in Ahsoka’s own brig. Once, Boba blows her cover and definitely lives to regret it. 

(this essay was originally punctuated with pics, but replies with images won’t show up tumblr tags so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)