#and they'd all be happy to see me. it's nice

[daylightmidnights]

Okayyyyyy I'm finally freeeee. Now I can rant about this masterpiece as much as I want.

First late me start with...... NIALL AND PHOEBE ??? Fuck yes! I'd have loved Niall to cause Harry some trouble but since Harry seems to trust him enough to appoint him as the main guard, he's not a threat. Plus I've come to the conclusion that I kinda like him so I wouldn't want him to suffer from anymore jealousy right now (not saying I wouldn't love for him to be jealous in future tho 👀). Anyway I am happy for Phoebe, she's the sweetest and deserves everything she wants. She and Niall would get married and have 10 kids and they'd play with Harry and yn's kids and then two of them would fall in love with each other and then you can write a story about that (excuse me...got carried away).

And I want to see Niall being goofy with her infront of yn. I want them three to be friends aaahhhhh I'm such a whore for good unlikely friendships. Like it's so mind boggling when you think about it. Yn being lower class and Phoebe and Niall technically being upper class than her but she's gonna be the queen and both of them gives her so much respect without a question about her social position. But now she's above everyone else and yn's just trying to exist with that fact. She's still the same at her core though so it must be so hard for her to adjust in this setting. All of this must be so fascinating to her in a way. Yeah I just want her to say 'fuck it' and be best buddies with Phoebe and Niall and like play chess with them or something on the bedroom floor lmao

And her first kiss was Lane? Bloody LANE? Eeesshhh I'd have wanted someone from their slum or something who had a crush on her and someone she kind of liked to be her first kiss. But Lane does seem perfect. Because not only is he her closest friend but Harry also kinda doesn't like him? So when he learns that his royal smug ass wasn't her first kiss he's gonna lose his shit and when he learns that stupid LANE was her first kiss he might have to take 10 days long cold bath to cool himself down. Hope we get to see his reaction to this information. Pretty please?

But as much as I want king Harry to suffer I'm starting to like him. I loved him in this chapter. Loved hiw sincere he was with that whole situation. He went and brought them back to the castle himself. And kinda felt guilty? That she and her family had to go through that despite it being his responsibility to take care of her and her family. And I have to admit that even I didn't like the disrespect towards him by Lord Mayor. What was that guy thinking? Harry is THE KING. Do you have no fear for your life Mr Mayor? Your stupidity made me go "Yes Harry go and behead him and I will hand you the sword" and I don't like being violent Mr Mayor. Leave my girl alone. She doesn't deserve all this shit. You people don't like her she knows that but she is still trying to be nice and fit in. She's taking those fucking etiquette class even though Harry gave her choice not to. She's trying okay? Leave her be. Hate that guy hate him hate him hate him

And god forbid if he does something with the brooch I'm gonna kill him myself (and I don't like violence so this is serious to me). Because that's Harry's mother's brooch that he gave to his wife-to-be, someone who he selected just to mess with his people? HELLO? IT'S HIS MOTHER'S!!! This is a big deal. Why isn't she freaking out more? Does she not understand the gravity of this? He's giving you his mother's things, his mother, probably the only person he truly loved and cherished. It's gotta be a big, huge deal.

Poor Harry lost his mother so young. Seems like his father mistreated her. No wonder he is like this. He probably hated his father. I'm sure of one thing though, he won't be like his father. He won't use yn as he pleases, won't neglect her or mistreat her. He already cares for her very much and even though the purpose of bringing her into this was not so great he's still looking out for her, protecting her and sees her as his queen. I'm pretty sure once he actually falls in love with her, he's gonna be a soft warm cuddly whiney mess when they're together alone. And I can't wait for that day. He's gonna cherish her.

The bath scene was very sexy and I loved that he was commanding but not forcing her to do anything. Even when he teaches her things or challenges her beliefs regarding God or her fear, he doesn't push his opinion on her. He tells her things and lets her decide for herself. Which I think is very wise and thoughtful. And it works too. She makes her own decision about what she wants. It's a progress. He is so keen on enlightening her about various things. I hope he teaches her more about other things too. About their kingdom and politics and other stuff. He also said he's gonna take her with him next time. She's probably never travelled anywhere before. So maybe they can explore place together when they go somewhere.

And last but NOT FUCKING THE LEAST.....they finally KISSED. Yessssssss!!!! Bet Harry was all drunk on her lips afterwards. Couldn't think straight, only wanting to kiss her again. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh I'm dizzy thinking about it. And they're gonna share his bed from now on. Can't wait to see what happens when they're sleeping next to each other. I don't think I can wait for the next chapter. Give me now! Gimme gimme gimme!!!!!!

I wish I could get inside your brain and see what's gonna happen next. This world you created has sucked me in and now I can't get out of it and don't want to. I don't want this to end. I'd love 100 chapters of this. Thank you so much Guru. This is so so good. Your writing is so good I can't even explain. Waiting for it gets tough but it's always worth it. Every chapter so far has been incredible 🤌

I love this so much. I love you so much more. Thank you for all you do. You're absolutely amazing! ❤️

[3] It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Series Summary: Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.

Note: Harry is mean/uncouth in this, though things do get better. He doesn't treat anyone around him with much respect at all. Expect to not like him much at first. Also, this is set in the 1800s England, and while not completely historically accurate, I did my best to keep it as accurate as possible.

Ch. 3 Word Count: 8,749

Ch. 3 Warning: Harsh physical treatment, descriptions of extreme poverty, discrimination, humiliation, some light petting, inspection kink (light), corruption kink, mention of parental death (let me know if I missed any!)

It's Good to Be King Masterlist

. .

Y/n had learned that the king had been called away to tend to a minor land ownership dispute in a village that was a day's ride away. He'd be gone for five days as long as there were no unexpected postponements.

When Phoebe told her, Y/n couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt so wistful. She knew he was a cold, bad-mannered person, so she shouldn't have expected him to speak to her about his departure beforehand. But to feel the tight stretch in her chest that he didn't tell her himself… that was perplexing.

Their interactions over the last few weeks she'd been at the castle had been not more than fleeting. They'd had dinner together a few times, and one evening he went to her room with a gift for her. He didn't let her open it while he was present, but before he left, he placed his hand on her hip when she was wearing only her chemise and said, "This, I much prefer. I shall have another fig tart sent to you this evening."

He squeezed at her skin, his fingers indenting into her newly very slightly softer hip. She understood him to mean the small bit of weight she'd put on was what he preferred.

The gift he left her was a beautiful gold brooch bearing the kingdom's royal coat of arms carved into the center, adorned with sparkling purple, red, and amber jewels. On the back, it was engraved with the name of Harry's deceased mother, the late Queen.

She forced a smile as Phoebe poured hot, fragrant Ceylon into her teacup. "He'll be gone five days? The wedding ceremony is in two weeks. Let's hope nothing delays their return."

"Two weeks already is it?" Phoebe said, lifting the porcelain lid from her breakfast platter. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I've no choice. My family finally has everything they've ever wanted here. My sister, Dell, cried last week when she tasted the citrus soufflé we all had for dessert. I can't do anything to ruin this. Even if he is the devil."

A dashing devil.

"I believe he's fond of you. He's a cad, but I've seen him look at you when you're not paying attention. Everyone has."

Y/n smiled down at her plate. She only pretended not to be paying attention, but she knew his gaze on the curve of her neck and brushing at her lips when she'd look the other direction. Crude, maybe, but he did show her something about her body she'd not soon forget.

In fact, it had come quite in handy once her bedroom was quiet and she was settled into her down blankets with a book full of wanton stories in her lap. The guilt she'd felt the first few times she'd reenacted what he'd shown her soon turned into a craving she daydreamed of at the most inappropriate times.

Just as then, while Phoebe stood by watching as she ate her breakfast.

"Have you eaten?" Y/n asked.

"Not yet."

"Would you like a biscuit with butter?" Y/n placed a biscuit on a small dish and gestured at the chair across from her for Phoebe to sit.

"It's meant for you, Y/n."

"Of course it's meant for me, but I'd like you to have some. You're my friend. Please, sit with me."

Phoebe offered a gentle smile and pulled the chair out to sit. "Thank you."

Y/n had begun offering some of her food to Phoebe during the mornings when no one else was around. Her friend always denied the initial offer but eventually wound up giving in. In fact, it seemed to be easier to get her to sit with Y/n by the day.

She'd also begun taking etiquette classes twice each week in preparation for the wedding and being seen in public with the king. The council advised that she needed the extra work. Harry left it up to Y/n whether or not she'd like to go. She decided to take the classes but quickly regretted that choice. The governess was harsh and easily angered.

Y/n had the feeling that her teacher didn't like her one bit, despite her best efforts to charm her. In fact, she got the idea that not many appreciated her presence in the castle at all. So she often preferred to stay in her room or her sisters'.

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?" Phoebe asked as she dotted the edge of her lip with her napkin.

"I have. But it was just with a friend because I was curious. And only once."

"Was it Lane? The one you told me about who likes his drink?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure he liked it more than I did. What about you?"

Phoebe smiled shyly and looked behind herself toward the door, as if anyone could hear them through the heavy, solid wood. "I might have last night…"

Y/n sat her fork down and leaned forward. "What do you mean? With whom?"

"You swear to not tell anyone?"

"Phoebe, you know I would never tell anyone your secrets. Was it Niall? It was Niall, wasn't it?"

The look on her friend's face when she spoke the name of the guard told Y/n everything she needed to know. She'd had a suspicion about the pair a couple of weeks prior when she spotted Niall winking at the girl, and the way her face shaded in pink was a clue as to how she felt about it.

A sudden knock on the door had both girls looking at one another in surprise. Phoebe quickly stood and walked toward the door with Y/n right behind. When she pulled the door open, there, standing in her doorway, was the Lord Mayor, and two men with him.

"Miss Y/n Y/l/n, you will come with us at once," he said, looking behind Phoebe at the queen-to-be.

"What is this about? Is the king okay?" Y/n asked, placing her hand over the broach he'd given her.

"You and your family are not welcome here in the castle any longer."

"What? I don't understand! Is there not—"

One of the men stepped in, pushing Phoebe to the side, and grabbed Y/n roughly by her arm. "Come!"

As she was pulled away from her room, the new guard, Niall, stopped the procession before they got too far. "Halt!"

"Move out of my way at once, guard!"

"My loyalty lies with the king and his orders. Unhand Her Majesty at once!"

"The King's duties fall on me when he's away. This is my command. Move to the side."

"Then you leave me no choice but to send word to King Styles to notify him of your trespass."

Y/n felt her arm yanked as she was dragged down the stairs. She screamed when another set of hands was on her middle, pushing, and then she spotted her sisters, parents, and grandmother already near the entrance, surrounded by men.

"Let me go! You needn't grab at me!" The men didn't listen. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she was pushed until her knees and hands hit the stone floor just off the carpet. But she had barely a moment to take a breath when she was again being grabbed and hauled upward until she was standing next to her mother.

The Lord Mayor stepped in front of her and reached forward. Y/n gasped when she felt him yank at her dress and then realized he'd pulled the brooch off. "Take them away."

Niall called out before Y/n and her family were directed to load into the horse cart that had been waiting for them at the front of the castle. "King Styles will receive word tomorrow. Do not fear, madam."

Two guards hung on the sides of the cart, and a driver at the front controlled the two horses pulling it, as Y/n and her family clung to the wooden benches inside so they didn't fall. People stood and watched as the cart was pulled out of the castle gates and toward the slums of their overcrowded rookery.

"What's happened, Y/n? What did you do?" Her mother bellowed dramatically.

"I don't know what happened. This wasn't the king's orders."

"Those men were atrocious. Grabbed my toast right from my hand!"

The townsfolk were staring, laughing, and some spat as they passed them by. She was far less worried about her family's reputation than she was about the rude behavior of the middle and noble classes. Y/n may never hold influence or power, but she was a human, and she deserved fundamental decency. She'd always believed everyone did.

Until then. Those people mocking her were the lowest of the low.

Being carted out of the castle in a buggy meant for livestock had been done on purpose. It was meant to be a spectacle. It was meant to humiliate. But it only made her angry. For the first time since she'd met the king, she understood him, in part. Understood his need to cause a stir and disrupt the comfortably spoiled bourgeoisie. Now she understood why he didn't like any of them.

. .

"Your Majesty, I have an urgent message from the main castle guard. Y/n Y/l/n and her family have been removed from the castle without your permission. The Lord Mayor took it upon himself to act as regent in your stead and made the decision to banish them from the castle grounds. Your presence is requested at once to deal with the matter."

Harry had never been so furious in all his life. He'd led an army in war and dealt with enemy soldiers who spat in his face, and had never been treated with such a lack of respect as this. He'd only been gone for two days, and already he had his own men conspiring behind his back. It was in direct defiance of Harry, and that just would not do.

He had no choice but to abandon his purpose and return right away. The land dispute matter could wait. Taking care of the Lord Mayor and everyone involved could not. He bid farewell to his company and left the moment he mounted his steed with his men in tow.

A day's ride across the expanse of Thornekeep and the surrounding villages was tiresome. Harry had been looking forward to more rest before he was to return, but now he had to forgo the gin and the hearty meal that was being prepared for him so he could deal with the unruly cast of characters he'd left in charge of the castle in his stead.

If he'd been a hair more cruel than he was, he would have forced the horses to push through until exhaustion. But he relied on the steeds to safely give him transport, and rest was necessary for the animals, just as it was for him and his men.

And as upset as he was about being disrespected, he was more concerned about Y/n than anything. She was his responsibility, and it was no secret that she and her family were not happily welcomed into their new roles. But he certainly hadn't expected this.

The following day, when he arrived to town just outside the castle, it felt as though everyone suddenly retreated back into their homes. As if even the townspeople knew they'd done something wrong. The vendors and workers averted their gazes.

Pointing in the direction of the town square near where the Lord Mayor lived, Harry looked at two of his men who were riding with him. "The Lord Mayor, go and collect him. Bring him to the private chambers closet off the long gallery. Make him stay there and wait for me. You," he said as he looked at Fred, "Get the covered stagecoach and have Alfred drive it directly to Y/n's home. We will be bringing them back to the castle at once."

Harry and the guard traveling with him rode deeper into the town, where the slums sprawled with wet, muddy roads, buckets filled with slop, decrepit living quarters, and street drunkards. There, the people stared intently. They stopped in their tracks and watched as the king rode by on his healthy, strong steed, with his armoured guard behind him. It was the first time he'd ever gone into the rookeries, where the poor lived and worked (if they could find work).

"You, sir!" Harry shouted at a man carrying what looked to be a heavy sack over his shoulder. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes at the king. "Can you tell me in which direction Y/n Y/l/n lives?"

"Oy…" The man dropped the sack at his feet and looked around himself. "I know 'o no such name."

"She's a woman of 20. Has a father called Peter and her mother Lettice."

"Peter and Lettice… Peter Y/l/n…" He rubbed at his chin and chewed the inside of his cheek. "I might know it."

Harry sighed. He knew the spiel. The man was expecting some kind of payment for information. Directing his horse to step closer to the man, Harry looked down at him with a frown and could smell the stench coming from him. "If you know it, tell me then. If you do, I'll let you continue on your journey unharmed."

The man shrugged. It was worth a shot. "Across from the mill. There's a graveyard at the top o'the lane. Four or five tenements down. B'be careful o'the pigs. They've not eaten."

The smell, as Harry traveled deeper into the overcrowded and filthy streets, was almost unbearable. Every five or ten yards was a bucket overflowing with excrement. He'd always known these places existed, but to see it with his own eyes (and to smell it)… he was appalled. The kind of squalor the destitutes lived in was barbarous.

When they arrived at the rundown tenement across from the mill, Harry jumped from the horse and gave the lead to his guard before sloshing through the filth to step up onto the rotted boards of the platform. He knocked on the door with the loose frame and stepped back as someone opened it up right away.

"Who's that?" The old woman stumbled back a couple of steps and clutched her hand over her heart. "The king! The king is here!"

"M'lady, I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. Are they here in this tenement?" Harry held the door open and stepped inside. The main room was dingy and damp and smelled of stale food and unwashed bodies.

"By god!" The woman sat down on the benchtop and inhaled deeply like she'd been given the scare of her life. "The king is here!"

A young man came down the stairs and looked from Harry to the old woman. "We can 'ear ya! Enough!" The man removed his floppy hat and lowered his head. "Your Highness. To what do we owen'ya th'honor?"

"I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. I've heard they live here."

"Right y'are. Lemme find 'em."

Harry scraped his eyes around the space, and while it wasn't as filthy as things appeared from outside, it was unfit for any human. The woman gasped as she pushed herself to stand and mumbled something he couldn't hear, nor did he care much. She seemed to be half out of it, gin drunk perhaps.

The ceiling was caved in at the side of the common area, where it appeared there was some kind of unworking, rusted stove. The wooden floors were soft under his feet, and the walls stained with moisture.

"King Harry?"

He turned quickly when he heard Y/n's voice. She made her way down the stairs, followed by her three younger sisters. "Y/n. I've come for you and your family. I received word about the situation and came as quickly as I could."

She clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes. It was humiliating. But we're used to being treated as such."

"You and your family are to gather your things quickly. A carriage will be around soon to bring you back to the castle."

"We were told we were not welcome there."

"The Lord Mayor will be dealt with forthwith. But what he says is irrelevant. My word is final. You will come back to the castle, and we are to proceed as before."

Y/n nodded slowly and motioned for her sisters to go back up to their quarters. "That is fine. Would you like to come up?"

She could see it in his posture and the expression on his face that he was not well in that room. The stench could get to anyone, but at least in the small space where they lived, it was tidy and much less foul. So he followed behind her up to their floor, and she let him into their room.

And it was indeed just a room. Pallets of cloth and feather, and straw were strewn over the floor where he assumed they slept. In the corner was a bench piled with random things: cups, bowls, sacks, a couple of books, a lantern, a tin of fish. In another corner, there was a tin bucket full of charred things, the wall behind it black from soot. He imagined it was their source of heat, like a fireplace.

Lettice and Peter were already standing in wait, their faces like those of young children awaiting permission to play with their new things. They bowed their heads. "Your Majesty," Peter said.

"Nan," Y/n said softly as she bent down to put her hand on her grandmother's shoulder. She'd been sitting in a chair, asleep. The old woman startled and looked at Y/n like she was some kind of horrible intruder.

"Nan, look…" Y/n motioned toward Harry, and the old woman blinked her eyes slowly.

"We're saved? He's come for us. Thank heavens!"

There weren't many things to gather. Harry hadn't imagined their living space as such. He figured a multi-room flat, nothing extravagant, but at least a home with space to cook and use the WC. But there was none of that. No running water, no private space, and no comfortable things to lie upon at night. How could anyone live like that? And that there were seven people all crammed into that room? He couldn't imagine it.

There was a double knock on the door before it was opened. Everyone turned to look as a young man stepped inside. "What's this then? It's true!" He grinned at Y/n and then lowered his head. "Your Majesty."

Y/n stepped in next to the man and put her hand on his arm. "This is my good friend Lane. He was there with me, the day you came to me."

Harry looked the dirty fellow up and down. "Yes, I remember Lane."

He watched his wife-to-be whisper something to the young man, and then Lane turned to look at her with a brief nod as he ran his hand over her wrist. There was no time to challenge what had just happened or to ask what was said and why someone else was touching her like that when Alfred had finally arrived with the covered carriage.

Once Y/n and her family were loaded into the carriage, Harry and his guard led the way back to the castle. He'd seen a lot of things in his life, but he had not been prepared to see the rookeries up close like that. He'd seen the outskirts of impoverished neighborhoods in other kingdoms and towns and but never in his own. Shock might be too heavy of a word for the way it made him feel, but it was close.

He ordered three footmen to take Y/n's family to their quarters and give them whatever they would like to eat (as well as draw each of them a bath) while he went with Y/n and Phoebe to bring her to his chambers. "You'll stay in my room from here on. Your room will still be open for you, but I'm not satisfied for you to be there all night alone."

Y/n was still struggling to wrap her mind around the events of the last few days. Niall had told her to expect the king to come and get her, but she doubted that he really would. She imagined it was easier for the king to take a more suitable wife. A woman used to that life with a higher status. Someone the proletariat would prefer.

She was thankful that he did, though. She'd gotten used to some of the small luxuries (and big) that the royal castle afforded them all. Mostly, she missed her privacy and the comfy bed.

"Have her wardrobe brought over, a warm bath drawn, and whatever she'd like to eat," Harry said to Phoebe, who quickly got to work.

Y/n kept quiet as she watched the king open up his balcony and drape the lace curtains to the side before he poured two glasses of gin and handed her one.

He gulped his portion in one go as she sniffed her glass. "Go on. Drink it. You need it more than I do. Feel free to have as much as you like."

"Thank you."

"You should not have to thank me. This should never have happened. I will deal with the Lord Mayor and see what kind of punishment the council allows. I just ask that if you leave this room, have Phoebe and Niall with you."

She nodded. "Of course."

"I've made arrangements for a formal announcement of our engagement. Day after tomorrow, we will have a public appearance to announce to the whole of the kingdom that you will be the Queen Consort. No one can then deny that I've selected my wife, as it seems they've all done."

He paced toward the open balcony and put his hands on his hips. "I will be gone til late. I have much to do. Please use my room as if it were your own."

Y/n eyed the bed and then shifted her gaze back to the king as he stepped toward his door. "I'm grateful that you came to get us. I'm indebted to you, My Lord."

He sniffed and looked down at his feet, hand on the knob the door. "Yes. You are."

. .

Y/n woke up to the sound of pouring water. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Harry sitting next to the fire, sipping hot tea and reading something intently as a man stood over the large tub in the king's room. She couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep, but it wasn't long after her warm bath and the big meal she'd eaten.

She wasn't sure what to think exactly. The last few days had been quite dramatic and unusual, then with the king barging into their meager home to bring them back to the castle... He'd returned for her when he didn't need to. He had no allegiance to her or her family, so it was a bit of a surprise that he seemed so insistent that she come back with him.

"My Lord. Your bath is ready."

The king looked toward the man and pushed himself up from his chair. "You are dismissed."

Y/n blinked and watched as the man left the room, and Harry stepped toward the bath to touch the water. He looked tired. She wondered what time he'd returned to the room. When he began to remove his clothes, she thought to look away, imagining he didn't realize she was already awake.

But she remained still and kept her eyes on his frame until he was stark naked, despite her internal scolding to look away. The urge to keep watching was much stronger than her polite reasoning to avert her eyes. His body appeared to be that of a hard worker, with solid muscle and a sturdy build. It had never been a doubt in her mind that he was well-formed, and now she had proof as she watched flexing, dense muscles as he stepped into his tub.

"You may join me, if you like."

His voice startled her. She hadn't realized he was aware that she was awake, watching him. Pushing herself to sit up, she pulled the blanket to cover her state of undress. He'd seen her before in just a chemise, but she still had the sense that it was wrong to bare herself to any man like that.

"Don't be shy with me. I've already tasted and smelled the juice of your quim and you've just seen me naked. Come."

Y/n gulped at the memory of Harry's hands on her body as she let out uncontrollable noises when he'd touched her. Then the aftermath of the forbidden shame as she watched him taste her offering. The lingering thought of the way he'd jutted his pink tongue out to lick at his fingers had her surging with heat.

"My King… It's improper—"

"Now don't start with that again. I say what's proper and what's not, and you disobeying me is improper."

Slowly, she moved the cover from herself and slid her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry had not yet looked in her direction, which she was thankful for as she wrapped her arms over the thin material that clung to her breasts and stepped closer until she was just next to the tub.

He looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, and the fatigue in them was evident. "Well, if you're not going to join me, at least sit." He patted the wide stone ledge of the tub as he kept his eyes on her.

Trying her best not to stare into the water, she shifted her gaze toward the fire and sat down where the king had told her. His broad chest rose and fell tiredly as he stretched his strong arms along the top of the tub. She looked down at his fingers, the distance of only 7 or 8 barleycorns away from her thigh. So close he could touch if he stretched his middle finger toward her.

"I didn't foresee the kind of difficulty I'd encounter in keeping you. I knew some would disagree with my choice, but to have been interrupted in my work and so blatantly disrespected… We will not be making that mistake again."

"I'm sorry, it was—"

"Stop." He spoke loudly, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "Do not apologize for concerns you did not create. I have chosen you, and that's final. The Lord Mayor will have to come to terms with his punishment, just as I will have to come to terms with my lapse in judgment. I take responsibility for that egregious failure. But I'm not happy about it."

Y/n kept quiet. She'd seen the king raging mad the moment he stepped into the castle the evening prior, and while that anger had not been directed at her, she felt it as if it were. So part of her still felt like she'd done something wrong. And it was becoming clear to her now that her place as queen was not going to be an easy one. She was not beloved by the kingdom. She was a disgrace to the monarch and tradition.

"Next time I have to take leave, you'll come with me. I don't believe we have any choice in the matter. You're my responsibility."

She gently placed her palm down on the cool stone and watched as he dragged a cloth over his chest. "When do you leave next?"

"Not until after we're wed. And once you become pregnant, all of my duties away from the castle must be delegated to someone I trust. We can't risk anyone trying to hurt you again."

As he wetted his skin and wrung out the damp cloth, she glanced over his shoulder and up his neck to his structured jawline. She imagined his babies would be very pretty. The out-of-place thought surprised her.

"I wish I weren't such a burden, My King."

He dipped the rag into the water and looked up at her as he leaned forward. "You're my burden. I chose it. I bear it. It's what I want. I could very well pick another who's more suitable. Easier. More docile. But I don't want that. I want you."

It wasn't romantic. Not at all. So why did her heart skip a beat when he'd said it? He'd admitted she was a burden. She was not easy, and she was not docile.

"I'm trying to be more docile. I'll learn."

He waved his arm as water dripped from his skin. "No. My mother tried to be compliant and docile, and look where it got her. The moment she surrendered her will was the moment she was sentenced to death."

Shaking her head in confusion, Y/n leaned forward and dipped a finger into the warm water. "What do you mean? The queen died from consumption. That was what we were all told."

"And she would still be alive today if she had kept a grip on her spirit. But she allowed my father to take it from her. He took her charm, her wit, and her will. Consumption took her because she allowed herself to surrender. It was her death sentence."

She had wanted to run her hand over his back in a soothing gesture, but she thought better of it. It was possible he was no longer mourning the loss of his mother and that he wouldn't want her touch even if he was. The queen had been gone for many years.

"I loathe to bring this up right now, but I feel it's important to say. I'm worried that the brooch you gave me, the one that belonged to the queen, is gone. The Lord Mayor took it from me when he removed me from the castle."

Harry's face darkened as he turned to look toward the door. "Did he now? If it's gone, he will pay a heavy price in the form of losing his title. That's theft and punishable by law. But I have a feeling it's still in his possession. I will have it back to you by tomorrow, and if not, I will buy you a new one."

"I'm very grateful to you, My King. You returned so quickly. My sisters are very happy here."

He looked at her face, and his irises burned a trail down the front of her chemise. "And you? Are you happy here?"

She looked down at her lack of clothes and shifted forward so that her breasts were less visible under the thin fabric. "I am. We all are. My family and I."

"Here…" He held his hand toward her, the wet cloth in his palm. She took the rag from him, and he repositioned himself so his back was facing her. Y/n understood that he was requesting her to take the cloth to his back to help him wash.

She hesitantly moved her hand toward his back, as if touching him would set her to flame. But once the damp rag was pressed into his shoulder, he sighed, and she realized that touching him wouldn't hurt her at all. It had been silly to think it would. Running it across his back, she noted the smooth skin and firm muscle that defined his sturdy figure. Plunging the cloth down into the water along his spine, she allowed herself to take him in. The backs of his arms and neck, the curve of his shoulder, and the breadth of his frame…

"If you joined me in the tub, this would be much easier."

It was true. If she were sitting behind him in the water, she'd have easier access to him, but that would require her to remove her garment. When she didn't answer, Harry turned to look at her as he leaned back into the tub until his shoulder was pressed into her thigh. "Keep going."

"Your back is hidden. I can't reach—"

"Then here." He took her hand with the cloth and pulled it over his chest. The new angle of him, his back to her as she leaned forward and slowly ran the rag along the solid muscle of his pectorals, felt quite salacious. But she continued wiping and cleaning him. When he leaned his head back against her thigh, she gasped and paused her motions.

He laughed, his eyes closed. "Oh, mouse… Calm yourself."

She slowly began to rub over the skin of his chest as she looked down at his face. His features were tranquil as he moaned, the lower she dipped the rag. She had no intentions of dragging it too low, but he seemed to be enjoying it as she ran it over his stomach.

Glancing down further, she could make out something dark between his legs, and then the member attached to him as it swayed with the water's movement. It was indecent of her to be looking, but her curiosity was acute. And besides, she'd seen it before already. She knew what he looked like, and right then, it seemed so harmless as it was distorted beneath the surface of the water.

"Lower."

Y/n blinked, casting her sight back to his face. She hesitated to bring the cloth lower against him, but figured she didn't need to go that low. There were other areas she could clean, other spots she could run the rag against. So she leaned in further and wiped down to his hip and the top of his thigh.

He let out a breathy groan and spread his legs the slightest. "Good."

She smiled at the praise. She was doing something right for once. Trailing the cloth to his other hip and down to the top of his thigh, he rocked his hips upward and moaned. When he turned his head, rolling it over her thigh, she felt his warm breath sneaking under the cloth of her chemise.

The moment was entirely too intimate. Harry was quite amenable in that moment, and the way he had used her thigh as a pillow felt sweet. Something about how tired he seemed and the way his eyelids were closed as he puffed out shallow breaths made her body heat. She didn't understand why she was responding to him that way.

But then he lifted an arm out of the water and reached behind himself, his hand pressed over her thigh, and then he squeezed as he moved his palm up to her hip. Her light colored chemise wetted under his touch, and she could see her skin coming through the damp material. She watched as his thumb gently ran along the bend of her thigh.

"My Lord…" She didn't know what she was to say, but she knew she had to say something. Anything… "You're getting my clothes wet."

"Then take them off."

She swallowed and lifted the rag away from him. "That's—"

"Improper? Is that what you were going to say?" Harry pushed himself from his spot in the tub and turned to look at her directly.

He pulled at her hip and grinned as she dropped the rag into the tub and gasped. She loved how it felt to have his hands on her, but she was too embarrassed to admit it as she writhed away from him and stood from the tub to step away.

The King leaned forward against the tub, his elbows on the spot she'd been sitting. "Where are you going?"

"I'm… You're the devil!" She said as her body thrummed with wanton heat.

He let out a loud laugh and felt something slick under his palm. Looking down to the stone, he stitched his brows together and drew a finger through the moisture before he brought it up to sniff. He dropped his mouth open in surprise as he looked at her. "Little mouse… This is not water. Come here at once and let me see."

"No." She looked away from him as she clutched the back of her chemise. She knew very well what it was, she just hadn't expected it to seep through the linen down to the stone. She'd only recently begun to understand the mechanics of how her body reacted to being aroused ever since Harry showed her the way she could make herself feel.

"Yes." He spoke firmly, his green eyes boring into her body as her chest heaved. "Come here and we'll take care of this for you. Now I see why you're so pent up. You need a release, don't you? It's been a hard few days for you."

She shook her head and looked down at her bare feet. She was doing everything she could to be a good girl, to do the right thing by God. But the king, whom she was certain was the devil himself, tempting her, made it unimaginably hard to keep righteous.

"Have you been taking good care of your little leaky spout like I showed you?"

She let out a wobbly noise and closed her eyes to pretend that question had never been uttered.

"I think you have. You very much enjoyed it when I showed you how to touch your little coo. Has it been good? I'm sure you were unable to whilst back at your tenement, but certainly you know well the kind of joy it brings when you have privacy."

She swallowed, the sound clicking loudly in the room. "No."

"Yes. Come here."

Opening her eyes, she let her sight trail over his arms and his face as he leaned into the tub so casually. Like what he was saying wasn't unscrupulous. He was so well-favored in looks that it almost wasn't fair. How was she to remain a proper lady?

"Was it me you thought of when you touched yourself?"

Shaking her head, she quickly glanced away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when she was lying.

"No? Then Lane? Your friend? You thought of him?"

Setting her eyes back on his, she shook her head. "No! Of course not!"

He smiled. "You don't fancy him then?"

"Never. Not like that."

"What about me? Do you fancy me, Y/n? Be honest. I can already tell when you're not being forthright. You can't even look me in the eye when you answer falsely."

Her skin felt like she'd fallen into a patch of stinging nettles as he kept his eyes on her. He'd figured out her little signal. She was no good at lying. But she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how he made her feel deep down.

"I want you here now. Come sit or I'll get out and force you to."

Still clutching the back of her chemise, she stepped forward slowly until she was next to the tub. Harry reached up for her hip and pulled. "Sit."

Y/n placed her hands down on the ledge and sat, but Harry pulled at her again until her legs were in the water and the bottom of her chemise was wet. Her heart was galloping in her chest as he placed his hands on her thighs. "You're going to be my wife. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"That's right. You're mine. So when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it for me. I don't ask much of you, Y/n," he spoke as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, then hooked his thumbs under the hem of the material and brought it upward to her mid-thigh. "You needn't worry much about anyone else asking you to do something. Just me. Yes?"

She nodded again and watched as his thumbs pushed upward under the chemise over her skin and she thought she would faint.

"What did you eat last night?"

"Uhh… roasted potatoes and cream, salted fish, bread and butter, apples."

He smiled at her as he paused his hands at the top of her thigh, and she felt her whole body flush in embarrassment. If he lowered his sight and peeked, he'd see her full quim she was sure.

"Good. You're eating well. And you slept well too, I presume?"

She nodded, trying to keep still so he didn't conclude how much she was affected by his hands on her.

"You like this."

Blinking, she turned her sight to the table with the water pitcher without answering.

He laughed softly and ran his thumbs along the curve of her thigh where it met her hip. "That's a yes. And what about this?"

She felt his fingers press into the flesh at the inside of her thigh as he pulled and spread her legs. She looked down quickly and sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight. It was lewd for him to see her like that. And yet… She was curious.

"Keep going?" He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know…" She gulped.

"You don't know? Then, how about I just keep going until you say stop? Yes?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He shifted his gaze further down to her privy parts, and she closed her eyes when she felt his thumb slide against her crease. He hissed, gripping her thigh harshly as he inspected her bits and moved in closer to get a better look.

"Very pretty, little mouse." She felt his thumb slip down further and softly massage until there was a little intrusion. She opened her eyes and watched as the tip of his thumb disappeared into her hole.

Snapping her thighs closed, Harry shot his eyes back up to her and removed his fingers. "Stop?"

It hadn't hurt her, but it was the embarrassment that had her shying from his touch. "I… I don't know. It's… not right."

"What's not right? The way a man and woman enjoy one another? Is that what's not right? Why would God go through the trouble of making humans with parts that can find pleasure in touch?"

"I think it's just meant for the sacrament of marriage."

"So, stop, then?"

She looked down at her legs dangling into the water and wished she were more bold like the girls she'd read about in her stories. The ones who'd found their lovers before they were wed and allowed themselves the indulgence of pleasure.

Harry gently wrapped his fingers around the space just above her ankle. "Look at me, mouse."

She looked into his green eyes and felt like she was being torn apart by her conscience. She'd never wanted to give in to her carnal pleasure as much as she did with Harry. And she never imagined that a man like him would defend her honor more than once. He was crude and undisciplined, but there was something tender, just for her, underneath the cold and pompous performance.

"Do you know why your little coo gets all wet like this, if not for the enjoyment of the act? It's human nature. It's how we were made. You do not need to be shy with me. If you want it, you can have it. As you've seen before, God will not smite you for such a thing as this."

The skin on her ankle where his hand was gripped felt warm, and it sent a wave of wicked craving through her insides. She wanted to reach toward him and push the curl from his forehead and slide her finger down his prominent nose over his plush pink lips just to see what he'd feel like under her fingertips. She wished she were brave enough to slip into the tub with him and fall into the temptuous ways of a dauntless woman.

He released her ankle and stood from the water, his strong, denuded body wet and dripping before her. She glanced only briefly at the organ hung heavy at her eye level before tilting her head back to look up at him. He bent as he took her chin in his hand. "What is it that you want? Tell me now."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm confused."

He puffed out a laugh and let go of her chin before he stepped from the tub. "Aren't we all, Y/n? No one really has the answers. Everyone is confused. You just have to learn to speak up for what you want most and hope that it wasn't the bad choice. No one can guide you but yourself."

She turned to watch as he pulled a robe over his body and walked toward his balcony. What did she want most? What if it was the bad choice?

Pulling her legs from the water, she stepped from the tub and guardedly followed behind him, the bottom half of her chemise soaked, which sent a chill over her heated skin. She stopped at the balcony door and coasted her eyes over the view of the castle garden with its fountains and tall trees. In the late spring, it would be a lovely place to stroll through, she thought. Harry was leaned into the stone railing, the tips of his curls in his damp hair already drying from the cool air whisping through it.

He was the sort of man who women whispered about. Both because he had such a rakishly handsome face (and form) and because he had the most brutish devil-may-care attitude. It made him quite a fascinating attraction. But the current of care he had for her underneath his thoughtless exterior was what drew Y/n's curiosity the most.

"You may do with me as you please. Make the decision for me. I won't say no." It took everything in her to spit the words out.

He turned and placed an elbow over the stone to lean into as he looked at her, his head cocked to the side as if she were a peculiar creature. "That does not please me. Indeed, I do not like being told no, but even worse is when I'm told yes and it's a lie."

"Then yes. I want to know. I may as well learn. Not just to please you but to discover my own pleasure."

Pushing himself from the stone, he blinked in surprise, a ghost of a smile turning the edge of his lip upward. "Then tell me what it is you want. Speak plainly."

She glanced behind her at the bed and then back at the king. "I'll… I could lie on the bed, and you could touch me again. Maybe…" She looked down and felt every atom of her being light up with scorching embers. "I'd like to feel your kiss."

She hadn't even noticed that he'd stepped in front of her until she saw his bare feet standing before her. Lifting her head upward to meet his gaze, she could have melted from the warmth on his face. "I haven't kissed you yet, have I?"

Harry placed his wide palm on her frozen cheek, and she closed her eyes. He hadn't kissed her, but the tender touch had her skin sizzling and her heart racing. "You haven't yet kissed me. No."

Blinking her eyes open to look at him again, she watched his irises smooth across her features and drag over her lips slowly as his thumb slid down her cheekbone. "Then we must remedy that mistake."

She'd been kissed before. Lane had been drunk, and she gave in to his persistent bickering to shut him up and to sate her own curiosity. It was hard and dry and smelled of gin and ale and sweat. It hadn't been what she imagined a kiss should be.

So, when Harry nudged his nose against hers, and she felt his hand soft on her hip, she knew it before he'd even closed the gap between their lips, that this would be the kind of kiss she'd always daydreamed of.

She felt his breath over her lips, and his fingers squeezed her skin as his thumb dragged gently at her temple before he pressed his smooth mouth to hers, and the noise of her doubt was silenced. She hadn't even realized that her hands were clutched over the fabric of his robe at his chest, like he would drift away as if in a dream if she didn't hang on tight.

He opened and closed his lips around hers in soft, careful motions, and she stepped closer, beckoned by the pull of his hand at her side. She parted her lips to mimic how he was kissing her, and he moaned into her mouth. She had no time to be startled by the moan and that it signified his delectation, when she felt the wet tip of his tongue lave over her bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth gently.

Oh god! She was wrong about everything! He didn't need to confess an undying love or obsession that was not there. He only needed to kiss her for her body and her mind to relent to him. It was delicate and confident, prurient and genteel… it was bewitching.

Did one truly not need the magical bounds of love to bloom in rapture from a kiss? Her skin and her blood and the nails on her fingers and toes were all vibrating with the kind of sensation that she always assumed only happened when a soul had found the one it was predestined to.

His hand slowly pushed away from her face and wound to the back of her head as his other reached across her lower back until she was flush against his chest. Her heart fluttered so rapidly at her brazen reach, her hands moving upward of their own accord until she'd pushed her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Even with the chilled wind whipping over her thinly clothed frame, her blood burned hot. If he took her then and laid her in his bed and claimed her virginity, she thought she'd not say no. Because what was this? Why was the subtle unanchoring of her morals and her posture on right and wrong suddenly categorized as a lie and a truth? The thick veil of deception was quickly trampled by just a kiss. What else would she soon uncover?

When he parted from her, he did not remove his hands, but he set his gaze against hers with a soft wonder that carried over to his features. Slowly, she pulled her fingers from his hair and placed her palms on his shoulders, all in silence. Was he in awe just as she was? Surely not.

But his delicate touch at the back of her neck was an homage to something profoundly affectionate. It had all been unexpected. Perhaps even for him.

"I have much to do today, else I'd remain here with you. It's nearly ten, breakfast will be served promptly. We'll call for Phoebe to help you dress and begin your day."

He stepped away, and it was then that Y/n could feel the harsh wind cutting through the linen to her flesh. She stood, confounded, as she watched the king walk back into his room to dress himself. Frozen in her spot, she let her mind wander to her childhood when she used to play pretend that her prince had found her. He'd sweep her up, take her away, and they'd fall madly in love and rule the kingdom together. Was it something she'd somehow foreseen, or was it just the silly imagination of every young girl who wished for something better?

Confounded, maybe, but Y/n was armed with a new awareness, a definite truth that she hadn't been privy to before. That even those who mean well can tell a lie, and truth can be found in the most unexpected ways. It was an awakening for her to see the way her heart could soar, as if God himself had elicited it. And right then, her heart was in flight like a bird that knew the way it must go with an instinct that directed its path. It was not God that guided the way. It was her.

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[pilotingdreammsss]

I really enjoyed the Pure Vanilla Yandere snippit we got from you! Could we possibly get some more? My favorite kind of yanderes are the ones who are aware that they're messed up and try to hold themselves back, struggling against what they desperately want to do vs not wanting to hurt the person they care about. That seems like the kind of yandere pv would be if he was one (to me)

I'm glad you enjoyed the snippet! My exans have ended, and I have a few days off right now, been in the mood for some yandere stuff 💗.

Withheld indulgenceೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Warnings: Stalking, Yandere themes, obsessive (restrained) behaviour. Continue at your own risk.

"I felt something could be wrong. Could I come inside?"

You narrow your eyes at the healer stood just outside your house, contemplating slightly whether to let your good 'friend' inside. Alas, these check-ups have gotten almost obscene from him. Even to himself, when you catch him guiltily mumbling to himself about how nosy he can get.

Yes... nosiness. That was it.

Not the pent-up sense of duty, duty to keep you safe, duty to keep you happy, duty to keep you in his arms... all things he'd tried to desperately keep a lid on. You'd be scared, so much he knew, and then you'd flee, hurt, and confused.

You crank open the door for him regardless, which would be your first mistake. Let him in! indulge him so this heavy guilt withers away.

"Sure, do you want anything?"

You, you, you, you!

He bites his tongue.

"Some tea would be nice."

He smiles right back at you, and you turn to walk to the kitchen. Ever the oblivious to the thousands of moral dilemmas, the clashes with what he truly wanted and his sense of righteousness. Goodness, if you saw what he truly desired, you'd never want to gaze at him again.

Pure Vanilla Cookie finds his way to an armchair, one he'd surely sat in hundreds of times before, one you'd lovingly dubbed as his. The steaming cups of tea emerge from the kitchen in your arms, carefully placed on the coffee table in the living room.

Both of you reach for the same cup. Your arms brush against each other, and you giggle heartily. Pure Vanilla Cookie's heart skips a beat, gears turning in his mind. Both of you draw away.

"Sorry, PV! I didn't know that one was yours." You chirp, he nods but can not help himself from smiling. You notice a slight darkness tinting his cheeks - his eyes open slightly - an expression you can not recognize.

The countless nights tailing you when you were unaware, inisitence he be the only healer to touch your wounds... the only one to touch you... The guilt was eating him whole. His unwavering devotion was pushing his friends away, too, as they'd slowly distance themselves from him.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie?"

He flinches, as if brought out of a daze.

"Your tea's going to go cold. "

He grins feverishly, pushing the thoughts away. He knows they'll come back to haunt him later.

"Oh, sorry, I just dazed off a little."

Something tells you otherwise, a deep primal suspicion that he was keeping something from you.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie, you've been acting weird as of late."

Color drains from his face, eyes suddenly blown open wide. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You stare, increasingly worried for your friend. Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes scrunched in worry. It pains him to see you so distressed. Pure Vanilla Cookie's mind scrambles for answers.

"It's nothing, don't worry about me."

You don't believe him, despite the fact that you so desperately want him to be okay. He sees it in your face that you're doubtful.

"Please, if something's bothering you..."

You reach out for his hand, taking his shaky hands into yours. He opens his mouth, and at once almost tells you the truth...

"I've... just been so stressed lately."

Yet lies again.

A/N: Writing PV is hard for me. Sorry for any shaky characterisation!

[the-cerene-rewritten-railway-au]

The Thing About Today...

14 February 1970

Word Count: +3,890

Valentine’s Day is supposed to be one of the most joyous holidays of the year, even if the engines don’t fully understand it! James certainly does! Everything’s red, like him, and it’s nice to be appreciated for once. But when he comes across Edward, he’s shocked to learn that he isn’t enjoying it. Compared to last year, it’s a complete turnaround for the blue engine, so what changed?

fanfiction.net | my site

a/n: happy 5/2 (or 2/5) !!!

~

"Bonjour, pa'! Joyeux Saint Valentin!" piped Jacqueline.

"Bonjour, Jackie!" chuckled James as he backed into his goods train. "Joyeux Saint Valentin! Feelin' bubbly?"

Both engines were taking loads of aluminum from the works up north the Shen Valley Branch Line. James would take his load to Tidmouth while Jacqueline would take hers to Vicarstown. It was originally meant to be the other way around but Jacqueline had been insistent in swapping loads last night.

"I have a friend there!" "I haven't seen her in a while, pa'!" James quickly gave in, knowing how it felt to not see a close friend in a while. Apart from the weekly gatherings at Tidmouth, he hadn't seen Edward, one of his closest friends, in a few weeks. They didn't meet up as often as they used to years ago. Sometimes, they'd go one or two days without seeing each other and other times, they'd go weeks instead, simply because their schedules didn't line up with one another.

Besides, it was Valentine's Day. He could at least greet his friends on such a wonderful day on any chance he could get.

"Oui, pa'!" Jacqueline's cheeks burned, but the red engine thought nothing of it, laughing as he was coupled up to his goods train. Her guard's whistle shrilled. "I'm off, pa'! Au revoir!" With her boiler full of energy and steam, she headed off for Vicarstown.

"Au revoir!" He lurched forward, slightly straining as he was pulled back by his flatbeds. Right then, it didn't bother him-.

"Watch out, you silly engine!" His driver, Demian, popped his head out, shaking his fist.

Now it did, to which James snapped right back, "Shove off, will ya!"

Ever since Demian and Richard, his new driver and fireman respectively, took over from his previous crew, there was nothing but constant bickering between them. James didn't see them fit enough to understand him. They weren't the same as Mr. Quill and Mr. Turner.

They weren't them.

But, they were better than sitting in the shed, waiting to come out because no one else could take him out. Mr. Quill and Mr. Turner were well past their youth, having a hard time keeping up with the workloads. It was hard for James to admit it but they needed to retire. They deserved it after having spent so many years by James' side, tolerating him at best.

He knew that, and it was the very least he could do to thank for everything.

...

Right as James neared Knapford Station, he spotted Thomas waiting with Annie and Clarabel. From a distance, he noticed the lack impatience or cheeriness within his expression.

Curious, the red engine hollered as he slowed down, “Wonderful day, innit, Thomas?"

Nothing.

He slowed down some more, leaning to his right. “Thomas~! I know you can hear me~!”

Again. Nothing.

“Thomas-?”

“What?” grunted the engine in question.

“He speaks!” snickered James, coming to a stop. “What's up with you today? It's only morning of a wonderful day!”

“Don’t say it-”

“Joyeux Valentine's Day!”

“To Lady, you're insufferable-”

That's it. Today was no day to be in a sour mood. It had to be the worst day to be so. Determined to not let his day go wrong, at least not so soon, James figured that getting to the bottom of... whatever was going on might help. “Ok. Seriously, what's got you all puffed up?” The splendid red engine looked over the stumpy blue engine, trying to spot any injuries that could imply something.

He found nothing. But still. “Did you-?”

“I'm not like you!” jabbed Thomas. “Getting into trouble every single day!”

“Hey!” he scoffed, thrown off by the sudden anger. “I was just asking!”

“I'm still waiting!" the blue iron horse snapped once more.

Confused, James stayed quiet.

“Go on! Make fun of me.”

What is up with him? “...what?”

Thomas was ready to snap again but suddenly stopped in his tracks, frowning. “Wait... were you on the island last year? On Valentine’s Day?”

James huffed. “'Course I was! I got stuck up in Peel Godred, remember?”

“...so you didn't hear about any rumor that happened that day?”

“I heard that something happened—" James leaned further to the right. "Not sure what it was."

"Forget what I said then!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Thomas wouldn't be allowed to leave anyways, James knew that. His guard hadn't blown the whistle, and Thomas didn't want a repeat of what happened years ago. "What spills has spilled. Fess up!"

Thomas' cheeks burned, glaring at James. "Mind your own beeswax!"

The last bit was sneered, taunting James for something that happened years ago. It set off the red iron horse, sending him into a flustered rage, gritting his teeth. "You-!"

Thomas' guard blew his whistle. The moment it did, Thomas fled, startling his crew and successfully avoiding confrontation.

"Thomas!" James could holler all he wanted but he knew Thomas wouldn't come back. "Damn it!"

"James, language!" Demian popped his head out, shaking his fist.

James fumed but held on. Just long enough for when his signal turned green, he jerked forward, just to show, once again, how little respect he had for the young men. Ignoring their chides once more, the red iron horse headed toward Tidmouth to finish up his job.

...

Tidmouth Yard was busy as usual, with shunters scuttling about the tracks, switching points left, right, and center. As James arrived, he surveyed the area for Stanley or any of the other shunters when he spotted Edward, who appeared to have just arrived. Odd, as James didn't recall seeing or hearing Edward on his way here.

Just as James approached his friend, he had an idea.

Maybe he knows what happened. Often seen as wise and kind, others would forget that Edward, somehow, knew every little thing that happened on the island and was responsible for any rumors spread. Partially.

As he drew near Edward, the latter piped, "Good mornin', Stanley!"

Behind the row of cars to Edward's left, Stanley replied, "Good morning, Edward!"

And like that, the older engine sat there idly, waiting to be uncoupled from his train.

But James took note of how Edward's smile slowly diminished, his face losing the soft warmth, matching the late winter cold. It wasn't a frown but it wasn't anything pleasant to signify that the smaller engine was at peace. Something must be bothering him.

"Good morning, Edward~!" James piped, startling Edward. "How's it going?"

While James was all cheery, bright as the morning sun, Edward's day began with a foggy mind, like yesterday's cloudy skies. It was full of thoughts about today, Valentine's Day. Ones that led to thinking about the red engine.

In the past, like other engines, Valentine’s Day was something that Edward didn't care much for. It wasn't something he hated but it wasn't something he was interested in either. It was one of those nice holidays the passengers would celebrate, hoping on trains to visit their loved ones. Seeing them so cheery made Edward bubbly, leaving him in a pleasant mood for the day.

But, oh dear... That morning, he was bubbly for a different reason, and that reason was here. A part of him hoped to not come across the splendidly red engine today. The fear of possibly making his friend uncomfortable with his odd behavior had nagged him since December, and it chose to be his biggest concern that day.

Ever since that December, Edward's mind would return to the subject. He thought about it over and over again, thinking he had come to terms about his feelings the first night at the works. "I have plenty of time." Too much time, if anything. He wanted to understand how and why he felt this strongly for James. He didn't intend to think about the possible outcomes if he told James. Or how other engines would take it. Or how Sir Topham Hatt II would take it.

As his thoughts spiraled, Edward fell into panic and, as normal as a reaction he could have, he boxed them up and shunted them to the back of his mind.

It didn't resolve anything as, unfortunately, the back of his mind spoke the loudest.

Since then, whenever he came across James, his boiler bubbled and those thoughts screamed at him. Is this really what love is all about? People enjoy this feeling, of being on edge about someone they care about? It wasn't fear. Edward knew what it truly felt like, and this... surge of complex emotions wasn't it.

James was a dear friend that he deeply cared about. That he knew for certain. A dear friend whom he had a complicated history with. A roller coaster, if you would. When they met, he hoped to befriend him but with the way Sir Topham Hatt spoke about James...

Edward couldn't help but be envious and scared, thinking that James would replace him. In response, the little blue engine worked, grinding his wheels, close to the point of flattening them until the controller confronted him. Once those thoughts were dispelled, he focused on befriending the newcomer once more.

And yet, everything went south because, of course, what he thought would be helpful, what he believed to be for the best, wasn't.

From mistrust on Edward's end to selfishness on James', it was a relationship that others deemed to be a waste of time. It's not worth saving, he was told. You're both too different! They've heard their fair share of advice.

But with time, the pieces found themselves and they were able to rebuild from there. It was a beautiful way to think of their bond when another engine would remind him of how James could be.

Could. A keyword perfectly describing the splendid red engine in his books.

James could be vain. He could be selfish. He could be rude.

But James could also be kind. He could be selfless at times. He could admit that he was wrong and work to make up for his mistakes. He could very well be confident and, at times, be correct to be so. Edward's seen it. Others have definitely seen it, yet some see past it and focus on what screams the loudest. They didn't care about James' good traits.

He did. He admired the way James was, confident in his strides and willing to do what it takes to make up for any wrongdoing of his. He accepted James the way he was, and he didn't want him any other way.

Noticing how seconds of silence were about to turn into minutes, Edward shook away his thoughts, shunting them away once again. The cerulean engine looked over to his side and piped, "Mornin', James!"

"Another clay delivery?" James eyed the clay trucks trailing behind the other as he approached him, stopping so his buffer beam lined up with Edward's. It meant that their smokeboxes didn't line up as James' was further pushed back than Edward's. He wouldn't see his face, and it worked well in Edward's favor as he was sure that his face was still burning. "Is there a project going on?"

"Ah think sae?" He wasn't exactly sure but he had noticed the sudden rise of materials being delivered to Tidmouth. "Most o' the supplies ah bring thae days ur bein' taken up th' Little Western. I huvnae been able tae ask Duck or Oliver aboot it, though."

"You usually know everything," noted James. From an outsider perspective, it was an insult, but he knew Edward would catch on to what he was laying down.

He did, proven by the sudden quirk of his eyebrows. "Curious aboot somethin'?"

James stayed quiet, meticulously choosing his words. Yes, Edward loved to "chit-chat" but he had some restraints. Some. "Thomas was acting weird this morning. I don't think he likes Valentine's Day. Do you know why?"

Again, quickly falling into their personal routine, his skeptical expression sharpened. "'N' whit wid ye dae, if ah told ye?"

"Nothing, nothing!" reassured the red engine. It was a strict expression Edward bore. This was his son they were speaking about, afterall. How the small tender engine could intimidate in an instant, James couldn't figure out. And he probably never will. "Just curious."

"Mmm, alricht then... Ye say he diz'nae like Valentine's Day?"

"Yes! From the sounds of it."

There was hesitation then. "Ah-" Guilt bubbled within him. "It has somethin' tae dae wit' what happened last year. Ah'm... surprised ye ne'er found oot, seein' how oot o' hand it got-"

"Ok!" His interest very much piqued. I knew something happened! That little rascal! "I'm not leaving until you tell me everything."

Ah- "...everythin'?"

"Everything!" he smirked.

It was enough to lighten up his mood, but he wouldn't look directly at James. "Well, th' twins started teasin' him 'n' Rosie that mornin' aboot thaim possibly bein' together. Frae thare, it got oot o' hand. Thomas wasn't tae happy aboot it. Wit' how he reacted, he hurt Rosie in th' process. They reconciled by th' end of th' day but other engines continued tae tease aboot it." It was when he looked back at James, who simply stared at him with interest and confusion. "Again, ah'm surprised ye didnae hear aboot it."

"That makes two of us," he huffed. "But I don't get it-"

"Whit dinnae ye get?" He wished it wasn't what he thought it was.

"What's so bad about Thomas and Rosie being together? They're friends, aren't they?"

Oh dear... "No, James. Ah-"

But, alas, his persistence naturally flowed, letting his logic spill. "We're friends," he emphasized, unaware of the way Edward's freckled cheeks furiously burned. "We're together-!"

"James!" he squawked before quickly shutting his mouth, face burning. Everyone else in the yard stopped and stared at the two, including their crews. They'd gotten into their own conversation but his outburst caught their attention and concern.

"Is everything alright?" Edward's driver peered out of the cab windows.

Equally concerned and confused, James inched closer, his smokebox lining up with the other's. He saw how pitch black his freckled cheeks became, and how those bronze eyes refused to look right him. "W-We're fine!" he hollered, refusing to look away. "We're fine."

He noticed how a smile, a grateful one, peaked out, only to quickly disappear. I'm in the clear. Maybe.

"...Is it wrong?"

The small cerulean engine shook as gently as he could on his chassis and cleared his pipes. "That's not-" This conversation needed to end. Now. "Ah meant in a romantic wey. Th' wey th' controller 'n' his wife ur!"

"Oh!" His eyes widened, finally understanding the situation. "That makes a lot more sense," he hummed. "...Are they?"

Edward's eyebrows quirked.

"I'll take that as a no." James heard Edward sigh, one that wasn't meant to be heard. "...Did that bother you?"

The smaller tender engine didn't answer, his eyebrows pinched and appearing bothered.

"...so would it be bad for us to be together that way?"

There wasn't any indication of hope in his tone. Only curiosity.

I'm a fool.

Closing his eyes and sighing once more, Edward replied, "Na, it's nae that." Lies. "I just... Ah still feel awful for whit ah did." Not a complete lie...

"What did you do?" Didn't sound like he believed him, his words carried by a playful tone.

"Ah didnae ken whit wis goin' oan either, 'n' it started oan ma line." Lip line crumpling into a frown, the memory came back to him. "Ah didnae mean tae add fuel tae the fire but ma comment upset Rosie. We came across each other at Wellsworth, 'n' she told me that Thomas wis actin' rather rude that day. She thought 'twas because he didnae like her. Ye remember how those twa were whin thay met, dinnae ye?"

James hummed, and Edward continued. "Ah thought somethin' similar happened but ah knew Thomas wasn't lik' that anymair. Ah told her that 'twas strange 'n' that ah thought Thomas really liked her." His nose scrunched up as he frowned. "Ah didnae mean it romantically."

"Is that what you were so upset about then?"

Wait- "Ye clocked?"

James scoffed, insulted. "Course I did." You're my close friend. "If you're upset, I can tell, even without your nose scrunching."

His interest was piqued. "...How exactly kin ye tell?" He looked over, gaze locking with James and paying close attention to how the larger engine responded.

The prideful engine carefully picked his words. "Well, you have this..." he muttered some gibberish, "-presence to yourself. That's as best as I can explain it."

"Ah think ah git it." He wanted to know a little more. He didn't expect an observation from James. It just doesn't happen often. "What kind o' presence?"

The large red engine's pride started to lift up. The small blue engine noticed how James looked around, his eyes calming down from being on high alert. Everyone else must've gotten busy once again. Edward didn't know as he couldn't pull his gaze away from the other engine, carefully observing him. "It's..." his face, in turn, started burning, "-welcoming. It's nice to be around... That day, it didn't feel the same. You were putting up that front but I- it was easy to tell that you were upset about something."

The smaller engine didn't miss the switch up, but he decided to not address it. "Ah didnae mean tae worry a'body." He saw James' smile. A rare one. One that was soft, appreciative, and genuine.

Once Edward realized where his mind was going, he cleared his throat, returning to the original conversation. "Ah said sorry tae Rosie afterwards. She forgave me but ever since then, ah still feel guilty for whit happened. Tis silly, ah ken that, but wi' how Thomas has been actin'-"

"Well, that's on him!" he exclaimed, earning them looks once again. This time, Edward ignored them. "He's not that young engine who constantly followed you around the yard once upon a time!"

"That ah ken-"

"So what gives? You didn't start the rumor, did you?"

"Na, but it did oan ma branch line."

"But did you start it?" he insisted.

Edward hesitated but relented. "No." His partial lie was starting to fall apart. This conversation should've ended a while ago.

"See? Problem solved. So what gives?"

"...I didnae really look forward tae today."

"What? Why not? You didn't mind it before? Was it really because of that?"

"Aye," he quickly replied. "It hud me thinkin' 'n'- well- ah rather nae think too much aboot it." Finally, a decent truth. Not the complete truth but it was still true nonetheless.

"So you don't like the roses all over the place neither?"

"Ah mean... th' roses ur beautiful oan thair own..." he hummed, hesitating to continue. "I like th' white ones."

James smirked. Gotcha! "But Valentine's Day is about the beautiful things! You've said so yourself that it's to appreciate them!"

The urge to just smile started to bubble up, but he opted to roll his eyes playfully. "Ah meant relationships-"

"And your smile's one of them!"

A squeak was hummed and his steam pressure rose as he tried to suppress the silly smile showing up. The smile James just complimented.

He failed, letting himself grin, his crooked lip line curling up and his overbite showing. His soft chuckles quickly became squawks, and he was blushing quite furiously. James turned him into a giddy, flustered mess, and for the moment, he did not mind. The same went for how proud James was becoming capable of making him smile. It was happening more often as they grew closer...

"...so is it bad for us to be together that way?" To Edward, no. He would be perfectly happy if they were.

But what about you? He continued to smile and chuckle as he gazed at James, thinking, Do you feel the same, dear? He just wanted to ask how he felt about such an idea.

But I can't. James had just grasped at the idea of how love worked, beyond platonic relationships. It wasn't fair. It would be cruel and selfish to just ask and tell him, expecting an answer from someone who, just moments ago, didn't think about the mere idea of romance between engines happening.

"We're friends." "We're together-!" "Well, is it wrong?" To be friends, no. Yet in the early age of steam engines, it was considered taboo by railway boards and engines themselves, being seen as a distraction from work. Would engines being together be a problem?

It would. Here he was experiencing the pinning, and he could tell it would become a problem.

So maybe it would be. Maybe it is best to keep it down, his gaze behind fluttering eyes intensified as he laughed, It's best for you, dear.

He wasn't about to drag James right along, possibly into something that could ruin their friendship or him.

Keep it down.

"Ye think tis beautiful?" asked Edward, once his laughter died down. He felt his crew start to work with his gauges, readying him for the return trip to his branch line. "Is it really?" he asked again, timidness and disbelief peaking through.

"You don't believe me?" James mocked, yet blushing furiously. "I don't just go around complimenting everything, you know?"

"Och, ah know," he teased. A small pleased smirk formed, passing off as his typical soft smile. "I ken."

Ready to tease back, James opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by his crew. "Let's get going!" yelled Demian.

The red iron horse loudly groaned and rolled his eyes. Normally, Edward would say something but he let him have it this time. He'd seen the way James' new crew were and understood why James reacted so poorly. He just hoped they could get along sooner rather than later.

"Ah shuid git goin', too," chuckled Edward. "Heaven's kens whit Bill 'n' Ben ur up tae, 'n' ah cannae be leavin' Ryan oan his own wi' thaim." Not after last time, the poor dear.

The bit of humor was enough to cheer James up. "I'll see you around then! Bye, Edward!"

"Bye, James!" With two whistles and a wheesh from releasing his brakes, Edward was off. A part of him was sad to leave, but another was glad. The giddiness bubbling within his boiler persisted throughout their chat, gradually raising his steam pressure. A sensation once unpleasant was now welcome. Very welcome, indeed.

He was curious as to why his crew had made no mention of it. They were suspiciously quiet.

As he got back on the Main Line, he began to wonder, Is this what a fluttering heart feels like? Is this what they call ‘butterflies’? He heard that expression many times these days. The feeling was soothing yet uneasy, the latter of which becoming infrequent.

“Lovesick, ah truly am,” he whispered as he puffed away, shocked at how loud James and his crew's bickering was but unaware of how his own crew whispered to one another.

Back in the yard, James and Demian bickered about, the latter ready to use stronger language. Richard stayed in the engine's cab, watching with disinterest. His mind was busy with another thought. Unlike the clueless red engine, he wasn't convinced of Edward's reasoning. I'll make a note to tell James, he decided as he poked out of the cab, ready to separate the two. But first, work.

~

important note: so in terms of when "Rosie is Red," "The Fastest Red Engine on Sodor," and this fic happen, "Rosie is Red" happens first, one year before thie fic and Rosie is yet to be repainted red. "The Fastest Red Engine on Sodor" happens after this fic, which is when Rosie is repainted, including "An Engine of Many Colors."

Happy 5/2, everyone! :3

story threw me in whirlwind when i thought it was done 😞 Kept going back and forth on some plot points. Its not even close to the original idea anymore but im happy with how it turned out! :DD

expect an upload on my site at some point. i'll reblog the post once i do 👍

so instead of my normal rambling, have this! <3 (a repost from last year hehe)

oh and the cover art too! :3 glad i got this done in time, enough for me to edit the story. as of posting and reblogging, im going back to sleep or smth. idk.

i hope you enjoyed this short story! :D comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! <3

[starsandstarlight]

Oh! They could-

"Thanks," Siffrin said as they shook her hand, "I chose it myself."

Solaris blinked as Vee admitted to also choosing her own name. "Huh, that's three for three then!" Heh, it was kind of nice, being surrounded by others that also chose their own names . . . even if one of them was just another version of them and thus didn't really count. Made them feel a little less alone, as someone who couldn't remember the name their parents must have given them . . . or even their parents at all.

Stars have they gone through a lot of names now, then. Counting whatever their original was, this was their fourth!

"They both sound good," Siffrin said. "I see why it was close."

Ha, of course they'd share the same taste in names.

"Anyway," Solaris said, looking back at stardust. "Did the Universe drop you here, too, then?"

"Oh!" He could show them they weren't trapped anymore! He gestured them out of the doorway, closing the door again when they complied. "No, I just . . ." He opened it again, to Corbeaux, and cast them a smug little smirk. ". . . Walked through the door."

Solaris froze, staring through the door into Vaugarde, so easily opened as if they hadn't tried that exact same thing multiple times before.

"You . . . How did you . . ." Slowly, they stepped forward, one hand on the doorframe, looking through but not daring to take a step forward, as if it wasn't real.

And then the smell hit them.

They whipped around towards Siffrin.

"You made a blinding wish!"

Oops. Guilty as charged. They looked away. "No I didn't . . ."

"Oh, like I can't smell the sugar from here. Why would you do that?! After what happened to you? After what happened to me!"

Siffrin winced. ". . . In my defense, I was on three hours of sleep and had a bad night. I wasn't thinking right."

"Do you have any idea how close you were to getting stranded here just like I was?! So soon after getting your happy ending?! Stars above, stardust! Do you want to get separated from them again?!"

". . . But I didn't?"

"Do not make another wish again. Promise."

He sighed. "I promise."

"Super promise."

Ah, they knew where this is going. Might as well cut directly to the chase. "I super duper promise not to intentionally craft any wishes ever again."

"Good."

She quirked an eyebrow as they mentioned that it was an understatement and a half. So they knew each other well, then, too, at that?

And then she watched them interact. The gentle hugs, the soft noises of joy at seeing each other again, the what was apparently a pet name-

Oh! Huh, wait, was this their partner?

Mentally filing that thought away, she offered out a hand to not-Stardust if they wanted to shake it, nodding as he finally shared his actual name. ❝Siffrin, then,❞ she grinned, ❝that's a neat name!❞

As the topic of names continued, she grew quiet as the two began talking about Solaris' name. She and Luz helped them pick it... well actually, Luz was the one to curate a bunch of options, present them, and Vee just voted for the ones that she liked the best, so... she knew that it wasn't their birthname at the very least, but she didn't know what their former name was until now. She turned her head, almost feeling like this was too personal, this was between them... should she be hearing this? Solaris' brief glance her way all but confirmed the feeling, and she gave a timid smile.

❝Hey, if it's any consolation... I used to have an old name that didn't fit me anymore, too, so... I picked a new one all my own.❞

She continued to watch with amusement as the two bickered and bantered. It was so unlike Solaris to act this way with anyone. It was nice to see them happy for once.

❝My sister suggested a whole bunch of star-themed names,❞ Vee piped up with a giggle, ❝it was neck and neck between Sirius and Solaris at the end.❞

[selkiemail]

actually love having a Straight Man posse to hang out with. like it's so so important to have friends who know how to make and manage a friend group discord server

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[virgil-upinthestars]

post ep 5 - SPOILERS

okay okay okay i think billy yeeted them out of the road. we see jen clawing up from the dirt in trailer footage, i think billy just chucked em back to westview. i don't think he's quite there at murder yet, seeing his last conversation with agatha, which? slay king. as a witch and practicing pagan, love him. "no, not for me" you take that negative energy and turn it right on its fuckin head sweetheart. but also please for the love of the gods don't get carried away, don't commit murder, your father would probably have a stroke even if your mother would sit there yelling you're doing great sweetie!!

also i think the reason why rio wasn't there in the last scene was bc she was collecting alice's body. now i'm imagining her walking out, seeing billy standing there alone with lighting coming from his hands and a scarlet witch crown like

[fzjp]

THEM. THEM IS HOME.

Made happy gremlin noises when I put the monster roadtrip polaroid up (one on the bottom, on the right). I'm so happy I got more Damira stuff 🥹🥹✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️

[aromanticasterisms]

this whole epilogue is just a little treat for me oh my god. "familiar faces arrive in simulanka" does not even begin to cover it

[lily-ohfally]

Mild 7.1 spoilers and mentions of IRL death

This is more or less just me rambling about thing I love about Dawntrail🤗

Keep in mind, I JUST started 7.1 MSQ and did not get far, though I wanna ramble a bit about Sphene's funeral and how Gulool Ja talking about his father hit a bit too close to home, not to mention Erenville and Cahciua...

Also, I am not looking for sympathy, I just want to talk about my experience with the whole loss thing.

In the beginning of this year, I lost my mother. I'm still trying to find ways to cope, but XIV has helped a lot in terms of putting my mind off things.. until everything with Alexandria and Solution 9 came around.

My first hard hitting moment was when Erenville learned of Cahciua's passing. The way he dealt with it felt very similar to my own reaction shortly after my mother died. She didn't suddenly die, there had been a lead up, but it was difficult to process nonetheless. The inability to process the information and then the emotions that came with it, it wasn't great. So seeing Erenvilles cold reaction to it at first felt familiar. You need time to think about it, whether you knew or not, suddenly losing someone you love so dearly doesn't elicit an immediate response from everyone, some of us need a little extra time to figure out how to react. I don't have much more to say about this particular part, other than I felt very seen during this part of MSQ.

I briefly went over this on my bsky, but the pensive child and Gulool Ja, both talking about how much it hurts knowing you'll never see someone again, then going on to say things like "I wish I'd forgotten" and such got me thinking.

Would I wanna forget?

No. Absolutely not. The pain never goes away, nor does it get lesser over time. It will continue to hurt me till the day I die. But the love, happiness and joy I have from my memories together with my mother will one day outshine the pain I feel now. It doesn't get easier, but it does get more manageable. Time wont ever heal this wound, the scar will ache just the same. But knowing I loved her and she loved me, my mothers death wont leave me in shambles. I will continue to move forward, with her watching over me. I will live a life I will be proud to tell her about if we reunite in what lies beyond. I will live the life she would've wanted me to live. A happy one.

On a more positive note, seeing Wuk Lamat in MSQ again makes me so happy. I love her so much, thank you for coming to my ted talk

[rin-may-1103]

Aspiring Escape Artist (part two)

Last | Master Post | Next...

"Why don't we all head inside, yes?" Mr. Wayne suggested, waving his arm in the doors general direction.

"Yes, that sounds great," Ms. Clance agreed, turning to Danny like she was debating whether or not she should drag him inside. Danny was very against that idea and glared at her. She huffed but turned and started making her way up the stairs.

The other, he can't really say kids because he's pretty sure half the people standing in front of him were over the age of eighteen, but they still lived with Mr. Wayne, apparently, so kids it was. The other kids continued to try to stealthily watch him as they made their way into the building. (He refused to call this place a house; it was bigger than Sam's manor for Ancients' sake.)

The gray-eyed girl waited for him, the not-so-happy but happy sparkle back as she watched him approach. Pausing for a moment, Danny turned and gently patted the bush closest to him, it had been practically begging for attention for the past ten minutes and Sam would have throttled him if he had just ignored it.

She treated them like demented puppies, and it's against every unspoken law (in danny's books, atleast) to ignore a puppy.

The gray-eyed girl (man, he was going to have to learn their names, Ancients, why were there so many people here?) tilted her head curiously, eyeing the plant he just patted.

"My friend has plant powers," Danny huffed, which was true. Sam still had lingering plant control and a connection to the green because of Undergrowth. Danny was just leaving out the fact that he also had plant powers. He wasn't sure why he always got new powers after beating new powerful ghosts, but it happens, and now he needs to pet the plants because they get sad if he doesn't.

(Jazz theorized once that the new powers were due to his half-a nature, but then they looked at Vlad and decided it was probably something else.) (Also, why in the world did he get ice powers and then almost immediately plant powers? like, seriously, why?)

"Close friend?" Gray asked, turning to follow Danny inside.

"One of my best friends," Danny agreed. Man, he missed them. He'd have to figure out how to get out of here soon; there was no way he was going to just not see his friends on Tucker's birthday. Which meant he had about a week to bust out of here and get back to Amity. Oh, and stay under the radar so Vlad doesn't find him.

Glancing around the entry hall, or was the term foyer? like, the place was fancier then most five star hotels he's seen (which he wants to make clear, was against his dying wishes. fuck vlad and his not hard earned money.) like, sure, it wasn't all white modern minimalist like the hotels, but he's pretty sure the vase just sitting a little too close to the edge of a table was worth more then a human heart on the black market.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor," Mr. Pennyworth started, closing the doors with a heavy thud. He didn't lock it, though, Danny noted. Probably because Ms. Clance still needed to leave.

"may I have your coats?" he asked, holding out his arm to Ms. Clance and looking over to Danny. Ms. Clance immediately started to shrug off her jacket and dropped it onto his arm without a second glance, trying to talk to Mr. Wayne about an office or something.

Danny shook his head, "No thanks. I prefer to keep my things with me." especially in a new place, who knows what they'd do to his stuff. last time he handed anything over it had been locked up and never returned. (or well, not returned until he stole it back right before leaving, but that's getting into semantics.)

"So, Daniel was it?" the older guy from the first three asked, smiling brightly and trying to act casual. He was failing.

"It's Danny," Danny huffed, glancing around to study the others.

Gray was nice, he had a feeling they'd get a long fine. she was like an open book, all her opinions and emotions right there for him to see. Though that just meant she was awear of them and could easily hide them.

The others not so much.

Eyebags looked tired but alert, watching Danny like he was a new puzzle. Which was fine, Danny could deal with that. He probably wasn't as bad as Jazz or his parents were when obsessed with new things, so he goes lower on the list but not off.

Mr. Casual over here was watching him AND the others, which meant he was probably the peacekeeper. That or he was the one who antagonized the others into acting without them noticing. Same as eyebags, then.

Blondie looked like she was planning how to prank him right then and there, but also like she was evaluating him for something. Like he thought earlier, she'll probably stick around until she gets bored. So, hmmm. Keep an eye on more than eyebags, but probably not a problem.

there was a kid maybe two-three years younger than him trying to hide on the stairs out of view, he looked pissed off and annoyed. Something was telling Danny he should stay away from him. So, definitely going to the top of his list right next to butler man.

And finally, Mr. Wayne. He was smiling and chatting with Ms. Clance like he didn't have a care in the world. And it would have been believable if it wasn't for the fact that the man was easily steering the conversation away from the stuff Ms. Clance wanted to talk about, without Danny around, before leaving. Which means Mr. Wayne wanted Danny to be part of the conversation, probably to get both sides of the story.

He was smart and knew how to manipulate situations without people catching on.

Also, top of the list, then.

"Only people who want to kill me call me Daniel," Danny added, watching as Ms. Clance tried to bring up his file and fell for another diversion.

"Really?" Eyebags asked, actually surprised for some reason.

Oh, wait, murder isn't normal. Ha, to live a normal life. It must be boring. Couldn't be him, even if he wanted it. There was nothing normal about growing up with mad scientists, and nothing normal about being half dead and a vigilante.

"Yeah, my friends and I made a chart and everything. Granted, we didn't have many people to add to the list to compare with, but it's checked out so far." Danny admitted, turning to face Eyebags.

Honestly, it was just Vlad, his parents, a few GIW agents, and those very few times his friends almost killed him. But come on, they all called him Daniel at some point. Therefore, it totally checks out.

"Huh," Mr. Casual blinked, glancing at his siblings before shaking his head. "Right, so uh, why do people want to kill you?"

"Because they're Fruit Loops," Danny grumbled, finally deciding to approach Ms. Clance. Might as well get this done and over with. The longer she stayed, the less time Danny would have to scout the place by himself later, after all the introductions.

Next (to be written)

[wordsofwhimsy]

you never even really thought about the way mark and you had become inseparable. he was your best friend, after all, wasn't it normal to be this close? a snapchat streak that had been going on for well over 100 days, coinciding with a string of texts that never seemed to stop - day or night.

if you planned an outing, he was always invited. if there was a movie night his spot would be ready on your couch. favorite snacks on standby. being with him was like second nature. easy, comfortable, grounding.

so when he got his first girlfriend with Amber, things seemed to change. you had been so happy for him, of course - Amber was amazing! beautiful, smart, strong. exactly the type of girl he needed. but your snap streak quickly died, and the texts started to only come a few times a day. suddenly your days seemed... emptier.

you tried so hard not to feel the relief that flooded you when he told you they'd ended things. he started coming around again, a seven day snap streak quickly picking back up. of course you hated that he had to go through a breakup, but having movie nights again was nice.

then one night, halfway into a rewatch of Robocop, Mark speaks. "hey." you glance at him, popcorn halfway to your lips. "you never asked me why Amber & I ended things..." you pause before dropping the pieces into your mouth.

"did i have to?" you mumbled around the food. your stare shifted back to the screen, your hand following suit in gesture. "look at Robocop - his love life is trash. kinda hard to find time for love when you're always saving the world."

"i always have time for you though." you go stiff, slowly moving your eyes back to him.

"uh, Mark...?" his stare is heavy on you, like it weighs a thousand pounds. there's no smile. he moves so slowly toward you, and you see it coming, yet you're still stunned stupid when his hand takes you by the back of the neck and brings you in, lips pressed against yours.

there's no movement in his lips, or yours. just a still, soft meeting of mouths. mouths that have smiled and laughed and talked with each other for years, but never touched. like two people on passing trains. always near, but just out of reach.

"i will always have time for you," he breathed when he pulled back, forehead resting against yours. "always."

[frillydolle]

need pitfighter vi getting jealous of people eyeing up nice reader at the bar and pulling you into her lap and marking up your neck in front of everyone😇

꒰ ୨ৎ ꒱　 ──　 nsfw mdni　 mean vi　 possessive vi

after a huuge win, vi decided that u two should celebrate with drinks at the last drop. it's not like the two of u would have to wait for such a long time since, by now, everyone knew who vi was. she's gained a.. interesting reputation in the undercity.

and so she's holding ur hand guiding u through the crowd of people, taking u to a slight secluded booth just for the u both but unbeknownst to u, many people were looking at the two of u.

well, more so looking at u.

u were a pretty girl, a happy, bubbly, sweet girl. like u didn't belong in zaun, more like piltover. people couldn't help but look of u, even some of the men within the bar were oogling at u, as ur dress flowed gracefully with each step u took as u followed vi to the booth.

u were completely different to vi, but everyone says that opposites attract, don't they?

and ur at the bar, waiting on the drinks. no one in the place even dared to talk to u, and u know why, it's not like u felt someone's intense gaze om the back of ur head. like a hawk watching its prey. and u didnt mind her gaze too much, in fact, it made u feel all funny inside, like u adored everything moment. vi kept her gaze fixed on u, making sure that no one dared to talk to the pretty girl. her pretty girl.

with that bubbly, sweet smile plastered on ur face as u walked ur way back to vi, placing the two drinks on the table before her hand wrapped around ur waist, pulling u to her lap in one swift motion. and your heart skipped a beat-

“theres my pretty girl, did i make ya proud?” “'course you did, silly! i just worry 'bout you so much, vi..” and a small giggle left ur lips.

soon, she pulled u closer and started kissing ur neck. and u, being the most loveliest girl she's ever meet, moved ur head slightly just so she could gain more access. a stray of giggles following ur actions. and that made her smirk, increasing the kisses that made their path to ur collarbone back up to ur neck.

“vii! what are you- dont put ur hand there! they'll see us!” “..i dont care, i wanna make sure they all know you're mine.”

her hand retraces just from the underside of ur breast, back down to ur sides. her lips trace back up to ur neck before she bite down, just slightly, enough to leave u a bite mark. a lovebite, to be more specific. she wasn't a girl to share specific why would she not let everyone know that ur her girlfriend?

“you're just so pretty, make me want to mark you up in front of everyone here... not like they'd notice.. or care.”

god, her words sent down to ur lower abdomin, the way she talks to u could be so... filthy, knowing her true intentions and yet, u have never complained once!

“let me take you when we get home, yeah?”

she gave u another one. and another one, and then another one after that.

[sportswriters]

how they'd react to you not saying "i love you" back

lots of fluff with the players: rúben dias, jude bellingham, joão félix, pablo gavi, trent alexander-arnold, pedri gonzález, heungmin son, mason mount

a/n: hope everybody have fun reading these! we surely did after a few drinks in <33333 - ella and namu

rúben dias

"amor? i'm heading out. i love you."

you quickly appear in the hallway, wearing a sweater that belonged to him.

“ok, have a nice day, darling,” you reply, waving goodbye.

the smile that had begun to appear on rúben's lips immediately fades, his hand resting against the doorknob he had opened earlier. when he hears your reply, he frowns, suspicious.

you get confused by his attitude and lick your lips, coming closer.

“what are you doing? i thought you had training.”

he doesn't answer right away, he just walks over to the sofa and sits down, unpretentiously. your lack of an answer made him a little suspicious, so he wasn't going to leave without something.

“yes, i do. but not until you answer me.”

you try to hold in your laughter, understanding the whole thing, but you still don't want to give in. his reaction wasn't what you'd expected. like, you didn't really expect him to just give up on going out just because you didn't answer his “i love you” like you always did.

you understood that it was really important to him.

“i don't get it, honey. did i answer you in a way that you didn't like?” you hold up your own joke, walking over to the sofa and sitting down right next to him.

as if he couldn't bear to never touch you when you were always close, his hand automatically moves to your thigh, where he squeezes it affectionately, almost unconsciously, because it's something he always does.

his expression closes with pure suspicion. he simply doesn't understand what had happened for you not to answer that you loved him back. until that point, for him, everything was fine. wasn't it?

“you tell me, y/n.”

his expression is so serious that you can't help yourself and start laughing. you quickly jump into his lap, turning him from suspicious to confused by your reaction. you hold his face with both hands.

“do you want me to tell you that I love you?” you ask, this time with a touched smile on your face.

he's so beautiful. so dangerously beautiful for his own good and sometimes you don't really believe he's yours.

he squeezes your thigh a little harder this time, as a warning.

“every day,” he adds, seriously.

you kiss his lips, laughing.

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you,” you start repeating several times against his lips. “i was only joking before. i wouldn't let you go without that.”

his smile returns to his lips. it was so easy to make him happy like that, you think, caressing his cheek.

“well,” he complains. “you almost did. now i'm going to be late for training because you're going to try and convince me that it was all a joke.”

you laugh and cling to him.

“wow, i fucking love you.”

jude bellingham

with things finally sorted, jude opens the door and you get out of bed just to follow him and take the opportunity to get a glass of water, since it's your day off and you're going back to your room.

“i'm leaving, baby. i love you, see you later?”

“yes, of course. good practice,” you say and walk into the kitchen.

jude blinks, confused. his eyebrows arch up, frowning as he tries to search for something in his memory that he can't recall. your answer was different from usual.

with that in mind, he opens the door and leaves, but still doesn't move to the elevator. instead, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, unlocks the screen and opens the group immediately.

“guys, did anything weird happen last night?” he sends the text and waits.

last night there was a small party at valverde's house, which you two joined and drank a bit. maybe jude did something he doesn't remember that upset you.

the answer comes almost immediately and he reads it.

“strange, like...?” camavinga asks.

“i don't know,” he types. “something that pissed y/n off?”

“what the fuck are you talking about, bellingham?” he reads the text from vinícius.

“i just said goodbye to y/n and she didn't say she loved me back”

on the other side of the door, you pick up your phone in your room, looking at the notifications. as you read everything, you laugh heartily.

“jude, you know I'm in the group too, right?” you send.

jude opens the door again after reading your message and goes straight to your room. he finds you sitting on the bed, still laughing, and you look up when you notice his presence, staring at him amused.

“so...?” he asks you, expecting an answer to the same question as before.

you laugh again and put your phone away. you get up and walk over to him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“nothing weird happened last night,” you reply, with a playful smile. “i was only joking, darling. of course i love you”

you nearly laugh again at the relieved sigh he lets out and the way he holds you so tightly, kissing your lips.

joão félix

hanging his bag over his shoulder, joão kisses you on the temple in farewell, while you're still finishing your coffee to start getting ready for work, since you don't have to arrive until later today.

“i'm on my way. i love you,” he says, moving from the kitchen worktop to cross the hall to the living room.

“alright, i'll see you later!” you reply, pouring a little more milk into your coffee, without looking at him, appearing a little distracted by your task.

you don't notice that he didn't cross the hall. he just stands there, as if waiting for something, which doesn't come. that's not how you normally say goodbye, so he's instantly alert.

turning around, joão appears at your side again, hugging you from behind, his hands around your waist in a very tight way, giving you the chance to smell his perfume even more closely. you chuckle, not expecting this attitude from him and turn your face to him, frowning.

“is everything all right?” he asks, a little hesitant, and kisses your shoulder affectionately.

the whole time his eyes are on you, as if he's studying your reaction, looking for something he didn't notice before or missed.

“yes... why wouldn't it be?”

you know why he's asking, but you don't say anything. you just carry on. just a little longer. even though you're sorry to see him with that expression of someone who thinks he's done something wrong, but hasn't yet found out what.

“like, there hasn't been any more shit gossip that you've been tagged in, right? anything like that?”

you lick your lips, staring into his eyes. ever since you started your public relationship, some people have been cruel enough to say things about you cheating on him, like his ex, that you wouldn't know how to take care of his heart and other shit. at first, this affected you and also worried joão, but then you dropped all those negative comments, focusing only on the good things with him.

“no, darling, there hasn’t” you reassure him, kissing his lips quickly, turning to face him, his hands never leaving you. “why now?”

he squeezes your waist.

“ah, you didn't say you love me back” he replies. “and you always do, right?”

you finally let out a laugh. he's confused, so you wrap your hands around his neck.

“i was joking, love,” you say, smiling. “i got you used to it, didn't i?”

relief washes over him instantly and he smiles.

“wouldn't that be a bad thing?” he tries to correct.

you widen your smile and shake your head.

“no, i've got you used to it very well,” you reinforce. “because that's the least you deserve: to hear every day that i love you. i love you.”

so he just kisses you, his heart warmer than ever, even though it's cold in chelsea.

pablo gavi

“did you get everything? aren't you forgetting anything?”

gavi checks his bag once more, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything after your question. when he seems sure, he quickly denies it with his head. 

“no, all set. shall we?”

you nod and pick up your own bag. you walk out together and enter the elevator hand in hand. you didn't live together, but sometimes you spent the night and went to work in the morning from his place, since some of your things were there and it made your life easier. it had been his idea and, even though you hesitated a little, you ended up accepting.

the elevator leaves you both in the parking lot, where your car is.

“see you later?” he asks and you nod, remembering that you were getting used to sleeping there more than once. “i love you.”

he kisses your lips and you return it, pulling away soon after.

“see you later, sweetheart.”

you say goodbye once more and walk to your car, ready to be on your way.

gavi stands still for a moment, trying to take in what has just happened. he watches as you get into your own car and drive past him, blowing a kiss into the air, but he can't even smile.

he stands there for a moment, feeling confused and odd, the situation was odd. you said goodbye to him in a strange way. 

now he was going to barcelona training with his head a little distracted. he couldn't keep up with the banter with the boys or do his best in practice. he seriously thought something was wrong with you, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what. 

his teammates asked him if he was all right or what was going on that had him so distracted, unable to concentrate one hundred percent on training. he would give a vague answer and carry on, even though his mind was wandering towards an answer that wasn't coming.

he thought a lot. about everything. about anything. he thought about texting you, but gave up. you always received a message from him every time he arrived at the training center, but this time he didn't. gavi simply didn't even think about it, his mind wandering back to the moment you said goodbye, trying to find out what had gone so wrong.

he tried to remember if he had missed anything, but he couldn't find it.

hours passed and it was time to go home again. you arrived first, a little tired, but you tried to prepare some homemade dinner to welcome him. gavi always arrived at the same time every day, on time, but on this one, he was ten minutes late.

you waited, sitting on the couch, watching some reality show that you didn't follow much, but that was what was passing your time. ten minutes later, you heard the door click.

when you turn to look at him, gavi goes off first, without even expecting anything beforehand.

“i just can't do it,” he begins, dropping his bag with his training stuff. “i've been thinking about it all day and i still can't reach a conclusion.”

you suppress a smile, but you're still a little confused.

“gavi?”

he looks at you, his shoulders slumped, his puss in boots expression.

“did i do something? are you upset about something? did something happen?” he fired off without taking a breath.

you pause the show and turn completely towards him, still sitting on the couch. you knew exactly what that meant, but you thought it would be fun to take it further.

“what do you mean ‘something?’ what are you talking about?” you play the fool.

gavi takes a deep breath. that had been torturing him all day. not even the smell of home-cooked food calms his nerves.

he approaches the couch.

“you didn't say you loved me back this morning,” he explains.

you try, but you can't suppress your laughter. you put your hand to your mouth, trying to control yourself, and gavi's expression changes.

“what's so funny?”

“baby, i was joking,” you confess.” i love you, gavi.”

you get up, trying to approach him while standing on the couch.

his mood changes. his eyes narrow towards you, trying to take in what you've just said.

“wait a minute, what?”

you laugh again.

“i was only joking. i didn't say i loved you this morning on purpose.”

you try to kiss him, but he pulls away, his expression tight.

“you…” he shakes his head, disbelieving that you had done it on purpose. he can't believe that he was stuck on it all day, while you knew it was a joke.

of course you let him think about it all day.

“that was ridiculous,” he says, still shaking his head and walking away, without giving you a chance to get closer and kiss him. “ridiculous, y/n.”

he walks down the corridor towards his room, totally shocked that it was all a joke, although part of him was relieved that everything was still fine and that he hadn't done anything wrong.

“come back here, it was a joke, baby!”

trent alexander-arnold

after checking his watch and realizing that he'd have to hurry if he wanted to be on time for practice, trent slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys from the bedside table. you were in the kitchen cleaning and rearranging some glasses to make room for the new wine ones you got as gifts. you'd almost forgotten about the prank you'd planned, but you only had to feel trent's kiss on your neck for a mischievous smile to appear on your face.

“i have to go, i love you. don't forget to check our reservation later.”

“ok, i'll let you know when i've confirmed it,” you replied, giving him a kiss.

trent smiled and made his way to the living room, then stopped. his head tilted slightly as if he were experiencing a sudden lightening.

“aren't you going to tell me you love me?!” he asked, still standing in the same spot.

“what? sorry, i'm distracted.”

“last chance!”

the sink tap was turned on, followed by other utensil noises. trent squinted his eyes and came back into the room to look at you – you really looked busy, too busy.

“hi, love. do you need anything else?”

trent arched an eyebrow.

“no, i'm on my way. love you.”

“ok, text me when you get there.”

silence.

“yeah, i'm going to spend a few days at dom's, good luck without me.”

he then dashed to the door, slamming it hard.

“what? trent!”

when you got there, you couldn't move the handle. it clearly wasn't locked, so you laughed in frustration when you realized what was going on.

“trent, i love you! it was a joke!”

you knew your boyfriend was considerably stronger, but you still tried to force the door once more. to no avail.

“oh yeah? now you do? didn't convince me.”

“you're going to be late!”

“this is more important, it's a life lesson.”

“fine! now let me see you and apologize properly,” you asked, resting your forehead on the door.

you stepped back when you felt the doorknob move slowly. there he was with the most unbearable expression of all and with his arms crossed, you soon knew that you would have a lot of work to do to make up for this great and terrible mistake.

you moved closer, uncrossed his arms and put them around your body.

“i love you very much, i just wanted to tease you with a little prank,” you said as you spread kisses along the length of his neck. “but you already knew that, right? you know i wouldn't let it slide.”

trent pouted, pretending to think about it, which shocked you. when you tried to pull away, he brought you back, smiling again – a genuinely cheeky smile.

“i know something would be very wrong if you'd forgotten, it's just that you're a pretty bad liar, so it was easy to figure out your little game.”

trent pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“just don't do it again, or i'll have to come up with my own pranks too.”

pedri gonzález

“damn, i'm really late,” you say, picking up the car keys and throwing them to pedri, who always seems to forget them when he goes out.

he picks up his bag and phone, quickly answering a message and looks up to see you putting on your heels, ready to leave together.

“i can drop you off at work,” he offers.

you wave your hand in denial.

“that means you'd be late, since it's the opposite direction. and we both know how coach flick feels about being late.”

he can't disagree and he knows you're right, but even so, his expression drops and you notice.

“it's okay, love. i've already called an uber,” you reassure him and pick up your own bag. “shall we?”

the two of you leave together and he locks the door to the apartment. since you always arrive first, he gives you back the key, because he always forgets to make his own copy, and you take the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.

“did gavi confirm dinner?” you ask.

“yes, we're coming together,” pedri replies.

you nod and when you finally reach the parking lot for pedri to take his car, you check on your phone that your uber will arrive in front of the building in two minutes. you tell him so.

“i'll see you later, then.” he leans in to give you a kiss and you reciprocate. “i love you.”

“good training, love,” you say and say goodbye, turning to leave.

you hide a smile, proud that you managed to remember to play a little prank on him before you left. pedri is confused, the gears of his brain turning slowly as he processes the fact that you didn't say you loved him back.

then you feel a hand grab your arm and turn you around – it's him.

“pedri?”

“should i apologize to you for something?” he asks, his voice a little uncertain.

“do you think you need to?”

the panic takes over his face and you can see that he's trying to remember what he did wrong. it was more likely that he wouldn't find out and would send a text to the boys, asking how he could best apologize, even if he didn't know what the mistake was.

“did i leave the wet towel on the bed again?” he asks, first try. “jesus, fer gave out my number again and some girl called and you got it all wrong?”

“fer hasn't done that since the last time i scolded him.”

you try not to laugh when you see how desperate he is.

“pedri, i have to go. the uber's coming.”

“no!” he holds your arm tighter. “you can't leave without telling me what i need to apologize for. you didn't say you loved me back.”

you laugh, giving up. the plan was really to leave without telling him, but his genuine distress made you realize that you couldn't let him torture himself the whole way wondering what he'd done wrong and what he needed to apologize for. you'd rather he concentrated one hundred percent and entirely on training.

“i was only joking, okay? there's nothing for you to apologize for, love.” you approach him, caressing his cheek affectionately. “not even for the towel, which, by the way, yes, you forgot it wet this morning.”

pedri rolls his eyes and pinches your waist lightly.

“no funny business, y/n.” he snorts.

but his unhappy frown doesn't last long when you kiss his lips gently, this time being the one to apologize. 

“i couldn't resist,” you say. “i really have to go now. i'll see you later.”

“and...?” he encourages, still not letting go.

you chuckle and hear the uber notification.

“and i love you.”

it's only when he finally seems satisfied that he lets you go, but still makes you delay a minute longer with a kiss on the lips.

heungmin son

you brought the jacket that heungmin had forgotten on the couch, so he could finally close his suitcase. he was preparing for the season with the Korean national team, so you took the opportunity to spend your days off together. this time you couldn't join heungmin on the trip because your work schedule didn't allow it.

the drive to the airport was smooth, while you hummed along to the songs on the radio, heungmin took the chance to doze off in the passenger seat - his hand resting on your thigh the whole ride. 

you parked at the entrance to the airline gate, as you had to say goodbye to him there.

“send me a picture of the snacks in first class on this plane,” you asked excitedly, even though it wasn't the first time.

heungmin laughed.

“i love you, take care on the way back and let me know when you arrive.”

you pressed his cheeks with your hands and kissed him several times.

“have a good trip.”

heungmin pulled away and stared at you with a broad smile. then he got out of the car and you opened the trunk so he could get his things. in the rearview mirror, you noticed when he closed the door and stared into the distance with a question mark on his face. it took you a great deal of effort to hold back your laughter when he tapped twice on the window right next to you.

“i'm going now, i love you.”

“all right, take care,” you said, and gave him another tender kiss.

however, heungmin didn't move, leaning his elbows on the door.

“honey, i'm going to get fined if i stay here another minute.”

“i'm not worried about that. is everything alright?”

“everything's fine, did we forget something? do you want me to go back and get it?”

“i think i might have missed something, because you haven't said you love me.”

you pressed your lips together, unable to contain yourself in front of his worried expression. although you knew that heungmin would be fully capable of paying any fine, you didn't want to spend money on this kind of nonsense.

“it was a prank, my love. i love you, ok? now get going, because i don't want you to be late, and i don't want to spend money on an airport ticket.”

he stayed there, watching you, analyzing any sign of a lie. analyzing you like someone who has made a mistake and doesn't want to repeat it.

“heungmin!”

“fine, but you're not geting off that easy,” he warned, then walked away.

“come here, give me one more kiss.”

“no, rethink your actions. i'll see you when Ii get back.”

“heungmin, no! i love you!”

you could see his satisfied smile as he walked towards the airport entrance. a honk made you take notice of your surroundings again, but that wasn't what worried you. you honked back.

“i'm leaving, damn it!”

a few hours later, you saw the notification with a text from heungmin.

baby: [photo] i've already written down the names of the things that were served to us on the plane. i'll buy them for us when i think you deserve them again.

y/n: cruel

baby: only fair

mason mount

"have a nice day, sweetheart. i'm heading out. love you."

you were still curled up in bed. the day off came at a good time, because you felt completely exhausted and all you wanted to do was rot in that bed. it was unfair that mason had to leave, but you accepted it, not having much to do, but you thought you'd play with him a bit, before he left.

"have a good game this weekend. text me when you get home, yeah?" you mumbled.

mason nodded and was about to close the bedroom door and let you go back to sleep, when he realized what had just happened. you didn't say it back. you always did, it was something that came out automatically and genuinely from both of you, but not this time.

he put his hand on the doorknob and went back to looking at you in bed, your eyes alight with a mischievous gleam that he didn't notice.

"is everything alright?" he asked, worried.

mason wasn't usually insecure with you, he simply had no reason to be. so when something like this happened, he got worried that something was wrong and he didn't notice.

"yes," you answered, falsely confused by his question, when you knew where it's coming from.

mason shook his head slowly, processing. he dropped his bag on the floor and stepped closer to the bed, stopping right next to you.

"are you sure?" he continued, looking for something in your expression.

"what is it, mase?"

he let out a frustrated sigh. you could tell he was struggling to understand what was going on.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" he reinforces.

"mase. love."

you got up, pushing the sheets away from your body, sitting up in bed.

"you didn't say you loved me back. is something wrong?"

"love, i don't..."

your heart squeezed when you saw his expression.

"because i say i love you every day in the most sincere way i can. come on, tell me, what happened? i can cancel my flight right now and we'll sort it out."

"mase, what? no!"

he couldn't be serious about canceling his flight and not being at the game this weekend, for goodness sake! it was an important game and he was still earning his place in the team, you would never let him do that, even if there was something wrong.

"baby, i was joking. of course i love you back." you giggled, leaning your forehead against his.

"what?" he let go and you laughed even harder. 

"that's not funny, y/n! you scared me."

"sorry, sorry!" you rushed to say, kissing his lips."it was just a prank. no canceling flights, okay?"

he shook his head, his lips almost forming a pout.

"i'm not convinced it was a prank. are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

him doubting you made you realize that the prank didn't go as planned. however, you also learned that it was important to him, in a way you hadn't imagined.

"there's nothing wrong, i promise."

he arched his eyebrow.

"really?"

this time you rolled your eyes.

"mason. you don't believe me?" you fire back.

"i just...” he tried to say, but you interrupted him.

"i love you. yesterday, today, tomorrow. the rest of my life. i love you."

he finally seemed convinced and held your face with both hands, foreheads still pressed together.

"even if things go wrong?"

"especially if things go wrong."

he smiled. so openly that you found yourself melting for his beauty again - secretly.

"i'll never get tired of hearing that."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Giving Headpats to Furina, Lynette, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lumine, Jean, Eula, Noelle, Ayaka, Sara, Yae, Shenhe, and Xianyun

No one requested this, as for the reason this post exists, the only thing I can give you is this image:

Furina freezes up the moment she feels S/O's hand pick up her hat, only to ruffle her hair.

She squawks for just a moment, quickly blushing and pouting as Furina yanks her hat down.

(Furina) "D-Don't just start patting me out of nowhere!"

Crossing her arms, she looks away, trying to not look bothered about the whole affair.

She finds it highly embarrassing. At least in public.

The moment they're alone and she feels their hand, she closes her eyes and completely relaxes, humming in content.

There's still a blush on her, but it's far more subdued unless S/O starts teasing her about it.

Lynette does not like just anyone rubbing her head due to her cat-like features.

In public, the top of her head in general is completely off limits.

But if it's just her and S/O at home, then she allows it.

In fact, when S/O's hand starts petting her head, she leans into them completely as her eyes close, just like an actual cat.

Her ears twitch a little, but her tail swishes left and right happily.

If they stop too early, Lynette's eyes slowly open and looks at them expectantly.

(Lynette) "...Why did you stop?"

Feeling the warm of their hand allowed Lynette to rest comfortably, and to space out to her heart's content.

Arlecchino did the same thing to comfort many of the children at the Hearth.

Yet she didn't know what to do when S/O did the same, feeling her hair slightly ruffled.

If her S/O was taller (in which case "Dude, you look huge"), she really wouldn't comment on the height difference, but if they were shorter, THEN she'd be surprised they would even attempt it.

Arlecchino doesn't care if it's in private or public, but she would care if they did so in front of her kids.

Because then they'd see that she has someone that can make her comfortable too, which in turn makes them happy.

Seeing their father cared for puts them at ease, making Arlecchino thankful in her own way.

But as for the action itself: she would just talk to them in her usual tone, though with a bit of a "threat" lying underneath.

(Arlecchino) "Did you wish for me to pat your head too, S/O? I might be rougher with you than the others."

Chiori raises an eyerbrow.

(Chiori) "S/O, what are you doing?"

Once they explain themselves, Chiori can't help roll her eyes.

(Chiori) "Did you expect me to get all flustered from that? Psh, it'll take a little more than messing up my hair to do that. Speaking of which, can you fix it for me? I'm a little busy here."

She finds it cute, yeah, but it's not that big of a deal.

Plus, she finds it weird.

Who just goes around, patting their girlfriends' heads unprompted?

Oh well, it's not like this was particularly harmful, so Chiori lets it slide.

But if they do that in front of customers or in public, S/O is dead.

Lumine's body stiffens when S/O's hand ruffles her hair lovingly, before she quickly giggles.

(Lumine) "Hey, stand still!"

She quickly does the same back, though her retaliation is far more playful and destructive.

S/O's hair is an absolute mess now, Lumine giving a cheeky grin back.

(Lumine) "There, now you look better than before!"

It does not take long for the situation to quickly devolve into a tickle fight with both of them on the bed laughing.

Jean takes a moment to register what S/O is doing, but after a few seconds she smiles.

Jean lets her shoulders drop, feeling more at ease by the second.

So this is how Barbara and Klee felt when she did the same.

(Jean) "Your hand feels quite nice, S/O..."

She doesn't realize her own flushed cheeks as her vision becomes slightly hazed with her affection.

If anything, she feels a little sad everytime they pull back.

It was such a relaxing sensation, and honestly made her feel a little sleepy.

Eula's head feels a bit colder to the touch, but her body is rapidly heating up, especially her face.

(Eula) "What do you think you're doing, S/O?"

Hearing their answer, Eula pauses for a moment before responding.

(Eula) "Next time, you should ask for permission instead of rubbing my hair like I'm some sort of child...I don't recall asking you to stop either."

In classic Eula fashion, she doesn't tell them directly that she loves the feeling of their hands.

But she'd be damned if she was going to admit something so embarrassing.

Noelle feels a mixture of pride and embarrassment everytime S/O pats her on the head.

On one hand it felt quite nice, and the gesture was very sweet!

But it made her feel a little childish.

She never voiced her latter feelings aloud, because it still made her flustered all the same.

(Noelle) "A-Ah...Um, thank you, S/O...!"

It made her want to do her best everytime just so she could receive such affection, and made sure to do it back to them!

But with her strength, she accidentally completely dishevels their hair.

Before promptly fixing it in nearly an instant with her skills as a dutiful maid!

Ayaka exhales deeply, any words she had completely fading away in bliss.

These were the kinds of moments Ayaka longed for, to simply share affection with a lover of her own.

It made her feel quite normal as opposed to the prim and proper noblewoman she was forced to be.

(Ayaka) "If I may be selfish for a moment, might I ask for you to continue...?"

She'd be a little embarrassed asking for more, but her shame vanishes the moment she feels their hand on her head again.

Ayaka is too shy to initiate the headpatting on her own, most of the time having her hand almost reach her S/O's head before pulling away last second.

Sara flinches and leans away from S/O on instinct.

(Sara) "What are you-...M-My apologies, I was just not expecting you to..."

Her hand fidgets for a moment before Sara lets out a sigh.

(Sara) "If you wanted to touch my hair, you can just ask."

Now that she was actually ready for S/O, she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers brushing against her hair.

It was relaxing as she let down her guard and enjoyed the physical affection.

Needless to say, Sara absolutely did not want S/O to do this in public.

Seeing Inazuma's general get pat on the head so lovingly would obliterate her image.

Yae smirks as she leans her head closer to them, not saying a word at first.

Her ears twitch for just a moment as she opens her mouth to speak.

(Yae) "Well, does my hair feel nice, S/O?"

And before S/O knows it, her tail wrapped around their waist before bringing them closer and her the back of her head is resting on their lap.

Yae's hand waves nonchalantly, and her tone growing increasingly ever more teasing.

(Yae) "I expect to be pampered properly, S/O. You can't leave a job half-finished after all!"

Now, Yae expects S/O to tend to her hair, in public or private, she doesn't really care.

As long as there were some good reactions from S/O both was fine, though in public tended to provide the funniest result.

...Oh, and their hands did feel nice. But she'd figure it'd be more entertaining to let S/O figure that one out themselves.

Shenhe knows this feeling well.

Cloud Retainer did the same thing whenever she meant to comfort her.

And of course, the feeling is much of the same when S/O does it to her.

WIth zero shame or hesitation, she closes her eyes and the corners of her lips grow into some semblance of a smile.

(Shenhe) "Your hands are soft, S/O...They feel good."

Instead of leaning into them, she grabs their entire arm and has their hand stay stuck in place.

But Shenhe is careful enough to not hurt them during the process.

She opens her eyes and calmly asks them:

(Shenhe) "Can you keep your hand in place for a little longer?"

Xianyun had provided much of the same comfort to all her disciples before.

But never has anyone attempted to pat her head.

So when she feels S/O's hands do the same motion, she is stunned for a few moments.

Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses, she puts on the best poker face she can.

(Xianyun) "W-Why did you feel the need to rub One's head, One is not feeling upset."

...The blush on her cheeks gave her feelings completely away, if the stutter didn't already do that.

Xianyun is far too proud to admit that headpat made her heart skip, and she would refuse to ever do so.

A mortal patting an Adeptus' head? Absolutely ridiculous!

...She wanted S/O to do that again.

[fidogo]

literally just John Price going to town with an equally desperate reader part 2 to this! Warnings: PWP, Age Gap, Light Spanking, Daddy Kink, Light dacyrphilia, mentions of voyeurism, overstimulation, use of good girl, sweetheart, and angel WC: 1.0k shoutout to @ohdrey89

"You liked that? Liked me calling you sweetheart in front of my men?"

You whine and nod, basking in his attention. His cock feels so good, spreading you open and filling you so nicely. His thrusts are deep and heavy, making your flesh jiggle.

"'Course you did. Cause you're good girl, ain't that right?" You nod again, arching your back for him.

"I'm a good girl, John," you slur, brain empty of everything except for John and his cock.

His hand cracks down on the soft flesh of your ass. You yelp, cunt clenching around him. He hushes you, fingers digging into the muscles he just spanked.

"Try again."

"I'm a good girl, Daddy," you say, throwing your hips back to try and speed up the pace. Your skin's hot, head cloudy, as you sink deeper into that fuzzy place.

"That's right," he mumbles, eyes glued to where he splits you. "So good for Daddy."

The wet sounds of your pussy getting pummeled fans the flames in your lower belly, and your eyes roll back. You're all screwed up inside, emotions churning wildly as your cunt flutters.

You like John so so much. He's proud of you. He'll take care of you, dote on you, keep you happy. Brief glimpses of a potential future flutter in and out of your mind, piercing through the cotton of your brain.

Sitting on the couch with John, your feet in his lap, eating breakfast together in his kitchen, just sitting near him, curled up with a book while he does paperwork.

You cum hard, writhing as tears sting your eyes. (You feel pathetic).

You’re whining Daddy pathetically as you cry. You feel a vague distant pulse of embarrassment somewhere in your mind. It's too vulnerable, it's too much. You don't know John that well. And yet...

He just coos at you, big hands squeezing your waist. He doesn't stop moving, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure.

And then he doesn't stop.

You weakly throw a hand behind you, trying to get him to slow down and give your poor pussy a moment of relief.

John chuckles, lacing your fingers together before pushing you down against his bed. He drapes himself across you, his warm, sweaty chest pressed flush against your back.

Large thighs bracket yours, keeping you in place as he pumps into you. John's breath tickles your ear, serenading you with soft grunts.

You pant into the pillow, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation. His cock hits a different spot like this, one that makes your cunt starts to flutter again.

"That's right, gonna take care of you." You cling to his voice, focusing on him to keep you afloat as you try not to get lost in the sensations.

"So good to me tonight, Sweetheart. Coming up to me like an absolute angel," John groans, hips moving faster. "Did you see how they looked at you?"

You’re crying again, and you let your tears absorb into his pillow (It smells like him).

You don't answer; John's not really looking for one.

"They thought you were such a sweet young thing. Too good for me." Humor colors his words, and he drops his head into the nook of your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your skin.

"Bet they'd get a kick out of knowing how you cream on my cock. Ain't that right?" This is mostly for his benefit now, but you can't deny the way your pussy clenches. He leaves a chaste kiss where his lips are touching.

"Yes, Daddy," you warble into the pillow, tears streaming down your face. You can practically feel his grin.

"Bet they'd love to watch, but you're mine, Sweetheart. All mine." You should probably remind him you're not exclusive or even an official couple. The thought drifts away as quickly as it enters your brain.

"All yours," you mumble instead. He kisses the shell of your ear softly and squeezes your hand, making you shiver and groan.

John's free hand gently slides to your mouth, his index and middle finger pressing against the seem of your lips. Ever the good girl, you lift your head slightly and open for him.

His fingers stroke your mouth gently, exploring, and you gush around his cock.

He barks out a laugh before thrusting his fingers more aggressively. You gag a little, heartbeat racing as John fucks you at both ends.

So so so good to you, you think blindly, letting yourself slip back into a haze.

John's thrusts get sloppy (You want him to cum so bad, want the evidence that you please him the same way he pleases you). His hips start to grind into you, and he cums with a large groan, fingers flexing inside your mouth.

You thrash against him, trapped, and you bite down on his hand as he grinds inside you. It feels so good when he does that, stirring up your insides, hitting somewhere that makes your toes curl.

You're stuck against the mattress, caged by his thick body, and forced to cum again as you cry. He whispers sweet meaningless words to you, soothing your poor nerves as he slows to a halt and gently pulls his fingers from your mouth.

Your head falls into his pillow, too exhausted to hold it up. John's efficient about cleaning you up and taking care of you. He's communicative and gentle as he puts you back together.

He's always been like that after the few times you slept together (it makes you feel something warm and surprisingly tender in your chest).

Your brain slowly returns to your body, and you nuzzle into John's chest. It's your first time in his home. Your first time spending the night in his bed. The realization that you want to sleep like this every night washes over you gently.

But everything's so intense with him. All or nothing. And yet you want to be with him so bad. If he asks, you'll say yes, you reason.

You happily drift off with that compromise, silently praying the same thing you do after each of your previous trysts with John: that this won't be the last.