#everyone has to do different things in the marriage bed to spice it up

[talesfromthecrypts]

Lily-Rose Depp and Nicholas Hoult in Nosferatu (2024)

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Every week I will post various reviews I've written so far in 2024. You can check out my Goodreads for more up-to-date reviews HERE. You can friend me on Goodreads here.

Have you read any of these? What were your thoughts?

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353. The Game Changer by Lana Ferguson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I actually really enjoyed this book--more than I was expecting. I was wary at first, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Is this book a bit quick on the attraction? Sure, but these people have known each other since they were kids. And the FMC gets to live that fantasy a lot of us have had of that older guy who finally sees you for who you are (at an appropriate age) and falls madly into love with you.

But you know what this book has that I absolutely adored? COMMUNICATION. The characters communicated and knew immediately what they wanted. If the MMC waffled a little every once in a while, he had a legitimate reason for it.

This book deals with trauma, an abusive parent, and the pressures of living a very public life and still trying to maintain some semblance of privacy. I think the MMC dealt with things in the best way he could and the FMC was very strong against those who tried to control the way she lived her life.

Was this an award winning read? No, but I was entertained and it had some good spice. If you want a sort-of surface level romance with some heavier topics on one side of the characters, then this might be the read for you. It was a very quick read (and granted, this could be because it was, again, a bit surface level), and I sometimes just need books like that.

I know I'll be trying the next Ferguson book!

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354. Bull Moon Rising by Ruby Dixon--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I think Ruby Dixon is one of those authors that is under-appreciated. Her ability to blend spice with really well thought out fantasy is impressive. I thought this when I read a different series by her and now I'm thinking it again after having read BULL MOON RISING.

This wasn't what I thought it would be, especially going off that gorgeous cover (and trust me, this book is aesthetically GORGEOUS.) What I was met with was a pseudo-historical-fantasy novel. It took me a little bit to get into the story because, again, it wasn't what I thought it would be, but when I did, I couldn't stop reading.

The cast of characters were so fun and had such different personalities that they easily came to life in my mind. I think one of my favourites was the character who kept licking his eyeball LOL. I'm excited to see where this world takes these characters and what their arcs will look like (if we get more of their stories!)

The FMC was the type of woman who took zero shits from anyone and made her own path, despite everyone telling her that she couldn't. She was one of those women that you want to warn and protect, but who will always do her own thing and speak her own mind--I loved her. And I especially loved how accepting and curious she was. Her love story with her husband of convenience was surprisingly sweet and very spice (which I'm not surprised about because Dixon is a smutty queen.)

The MMC was one of those male characters that had to grow on the reader because he had that asshole attitude down to a tee. But as I learned more about him and he becomes softer and more loving, I started to empathize with him and understand why he is the way he is. But I also loved how protective he is of the FMC. They were great together.

The concept of the book is really interesting and unique. I am very excited to see where this series goes! If you love romantasy novels that are also monster romances, then you need this. There is great character development, an adventurous sense to the story (especially when the schooling starts), and some fun characters that will have you either laughing or wanting to smack someone. Also, if you love a good marriage of convenience and the only one bed trope, then you should probably add this to your TBR...

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355. The New Recruit by Moscareto--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I think this is the first time I haven't 100% loved a manhwa, but it wasn't entirely because of the storyline. The artwork took me a while to get used to. I don't know what it was about it, but it felt so...unoriginal? It also made me think a lot of the old school yaoi hands LOL.

The story itself was fun! I liked the little reveals here and there, it kept me hooked and wanting to read more (hence why I read it in one sitting). I wanted to see what else would be revealed and how the story would progress.

I will say, however, that I was surprised by how quickly the stern boss changed, but I was invested and loved seeing them get to know each other better. I want to see their relationship develop throughout the upcoming volumes and I'm a bit excited for that! I'm more intrigued, too, because of the hints of envy and those subplots that popped up near the end of the volume.

And excuse me, that cliffhanger??? I want to see the MC's reaction LOL. I need more.

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356. The Off-Limits Rule by Sarah Adams--⭐️⭐️.5

THE OFF LIMITS RULE had its cute moments, but it also had quite a few frustrating moments. I did enjoy it for what it was and I'm glad I read it because sometimes I just need cute and mindless fluffy romance reads.

To get the frustrating bits out of the way first--her brother. I didn't like the way he treated her or how he reacted to her love life. I think his way of thinking was antiquated and I get that she's his sister and he wants to protect her, but she's also a grown-ass woman who can do whatever she wants. And mentioning the grown-ass woman thing: the FMC is a mother who adores her kid, but Adams was so focused on the budding romance between the two MCs that we didn't really get a lot of her son. It took a few chapters before we meet him and I was thinking, "What about her kid?" I've read other stories where a single parent finds love and we meet the kids almost immediately (unless it's like…a work trip or vacation, or the setting is in another country). I just remember thinking "Will we have any scenes with him?"

The MMC was cute, but he was such a pushover LOL. Yes, let yourself be governed by this dude you've known for a year (even though he DOES make a comment about this, I still found it funny.) I liked having his POV because I like having dual perspectives of certain situations. He wasn't exactly memorable, but I did like how he had the FMC's back in certain situations and how cute they were together.

Listen, this book was…a surface level kind of adorable read. If I think too much about it, then I end up lowering my rating, but I'm rating it on my overall experience and it was fine? It was a bit insta-romance, it was a closed door romance (not a bad thing, but be prepared, the doors will close just before any spicy stuff happens).

If you want a fluffy read for a beach day, then this is definitely one to keep in mind.

Also, I DNF'ed the second book. It had potential but it was a clustercluck.

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357. Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ugh, why am I crying?! I didn't expect this book to make me cry.

I had always seen this book floating around and never really gave it much thought. But then someone somewhere mentioned what it was about and I was immediately intrigued. And while it took me a while to get used to the storytelling, ODD THOMAS definitely grew on me. I think part of why I ended up actually really enjoying this book was because it gave me a similar vibe of so many other books printed around that time. They all have the "this is my life" type of vibe, which was something both in female-led and male-led stories.

The mystery aspect gripped me about mid-way through. The writing was a bit choppy at times and I felt like I had missed something here and there, but when the story kind of righted itself and all of the info-dumping was done, the mystery really set in. The extra touch of him being able to see the dead was both a little creepy and fun.

Odd Thomas himself was such an entertaining character. He's smart, but not very aware. I laughed at the scenes where it's so obvious how others see him (especially women), versus how he sees himself. He was truly one of those characters who jumps off the page and I'm intrigued to see how his characters grows and changes as the series progresses.

I'm intrigued and I'm definitely going to be picking up book two!

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358. Scarewaves by Trevor Henderson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book was genuinely creepy.

I 100% would have had nightmares as a kid. There were some chapters where I was glad I had the lights on. And I know I'm probably a scaredy cat, but this book was actually really unsettling. I'd even say that this had moments that were almost TOO intense for a middle grade novel.

Gave me IT vibes, but for preteens. Especially with that sense of dread and the sightings of the creepy things that haunt the town. The way Henderson showed us the end of various characters also gave me that similar vibe because it went beyond the MC and her own experiences. I really liked how he did this because it involved the whole town. It was very creative and i loved how we got chapters from the victims' perspectives.

The monsters were a bit too well described and were actually so creepy. I can tell the author has experience creating scary stories that will haunt the readers long past "the end". This was almost masterful, especially for middle grade. I think this is one of those MGLit horror novels that will be a hidden surprise that kids will stumble on, not something that is going to be very mainstream--but I think adults and teens should definitely read this one.

Also, this would be a terrifying movie, to be completely honest.

One of the obvious signs, for me, that this is truly a middle grade novel was that ending. It was quick and a bit too easy? But that being said, this is a kids book and honestly, sometimes things are just that easy. I can't wait for book two!

If you have a little who loves horror stories, I definitely recommend this one but keep in mind that this one is genuinely scary LOL.

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359. Practice Makes Perfect by Sarah Adams--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I REALLY liked PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. Probably my favourite Adams book so far.

I loved the connection between the two MCs and how the FMC found her voice by the end, even though it was a bit of a journey. I liked that we got to see her overcome those difficult barriers, especially because she had spent so long in just letting them fester and grow. She was one of those characters that everyone thought they knew because of the mould they had created for her, but watching her find herself and her voice made this book even more satisfying.

The MMC also had some serious character growth, even if his was a bit less obvious. His trauma really came to light as the story progressed and was an interesting and sad revelation alongside the FMC's own struggle with her grief. I love seeing characters who work so well off each other, because them helping each other makes me feel their chemistry even more.

The third character that I loved in this book was the town itself. Everyone in this town is so nosy and opinions are always flying all over the place. The whole aftermath of the very attractive MMC running shirtless in the morning through the town was hilarious.

The tension between the characters was great, but even though there are allusions to the spice, this was another closed door romance from Adams LOL.

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360. Haunt Sweet Home by Sarah Pinsker--⭐️⭐️

I don't know what I was expecting from this book, but it wasn't that. Even though the concept seemed really interesting, I felt like I needed more of SOMETHING to make me feel more invested.

There were some parts that had me guessing what the twist would be, so I wasn't entirely surprised, but it was interestingly done, nonetheless. This part of the story was probably the best part of the whole thing.

I think my low rating is because this novella had a lot of potential and kind of didn't do anything with it. Plus, it jumped around a lot and got kind of confusing at times. I got half of the information I needed and barely had time to get invested in the characters.

I think this could have been great if the plot was a bit more linear, rather than jumping around from place to place. Also, if we had a bit more to go off. I normally really like horror novellas, but this one felt like it was missing a lot.

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Happy reading!

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

[salami2]

AN: Thank you for participating in Sally’s Valentines Lovers Raffle! Here is your 1 Alphabet, as apart of your 4 prizes. Enjoy my dear! ^o^

— Other Mother - Fluff Alphabet —

A - Affection: Love Language is most definitely acts of service. Making you tea, buying the small things that you need, making the bed. It’s the tiny things that make a difference.

B - Beauty: She admires your loyalty the most about you. It’s what made her love you. No one had ever shown you that trust and love without a price.

C - Comfort: She has a very welcoming bust ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) no, but seriously, her hugs and cuddles are some of the best comforts out there. Her scent reminds you of fresh roses and peppermint tea.

D - Dream: She pictures a future of comfort, a little, secluded cottage in the woods. And- uh- maybe a couple kids if you would like.

E - Equal: Oh, EASILY the dominant one in the relationship. It doesn’t matter if she stays home and you work, in the bedroom and home, Other Mother is superior.

F - Fight: If it’s you, she can forgive easily. She’s not a child since she's used to being with them all the time. She fights with stern discipline, but will raise her voice if it comes to it.

G - Gratitude: Extremely grateful! She thanks whatever the hell is out there for meeting you and for making you her S/O.

H - Honesty: Well, here's the thing- if it’s something going on in your guys' everyday life, then she’ll tell you. But, there’s still a lot about her past she wants to keep hidden till the future comes. She’s just… scared, is all.

I - Inspiration: When meeting you, something changed about her. She became less mysterious and “fake”. More genuine and sweet.

J - Jealousy: Oh, she never gets jealous. She knows your hers and she’s yours. After a long time of being together, you keep that amazing relationship together.

K - Kiss: Extremely good kisser! Surprising since she barely did it on the lips before you got in her life. Your first kiss with her was sweet and deep. She gave it to you when she first got into a relationship with you.

L - Love Confession: You confessed, actually. With flowers and chocolates. But she never took them. Only taking you into her arms for a massive hug, as you fell the ground.

M - Marriage: Oh hell yeah! She wants marriage soooooo badly! She proposed with a candle light dinner. The marriage would be sweet and romantic, just like her kisses. With her knack for acts of service it would be the embodiment of being on cloud 9.

N - Nicknames: Dear, Darling, SweetPea, the list goes on! But, her the nickname she likes the most is probably “My Kitten”, surprisingly.

O - On Cloud Nine: When she’s in love, it’s the most subtle thing in the world. But, her buttons shine and sparkle when she looks at you for any period of time. She expresses her love through the small things Other Mother with you.

P - PDA: Oh, she brags WAY too much about you. About how incredible you are, how kind, how caring, how good you are in bed, hehe~ not to mention, very open with kisses and affection.

Q - Quirk: Her ability with good cooking is still so helpful, even after everyone has praised it many times. Hell, even the basic stuff that you’d forgotten is extremely helpful!

R - Romance: She loves the cliche romantic shit so much- it’s her entire shtick with you. Y’know, she’ll get you roses, chocolates, be a romantic sucker.

S - Support: Whatever you wanna do in life, whatever makes you happy, she’ll happily oblige. As long as it’s safe and makes good money. Other then that- you do you!

T - Thrill: She’ll ask for a lot of spice. And y’know, this girl probably has a bunch of bdsm toys and gadgets she likes to play around with…

U - Understanding: Like I’ve stated before, you two have been together since forever after. Other Mother emphasizes with a lot of your situations and struggles, so don’t worry about her not understanding.

V - Value: Your guys’s relationship means too much for her to let go. Everything she loves will only ever measure up for her affection to you, and especially the relationship.

W - Wild Card: KNITS! She knits for you! And then your forced to wear all the sweaters, hoodies, hats, mittens, blankets that she made.

X - XOXO: At home, she will kiss you SOO much! And the cuddling is phenomenal. She’s very, very affectionate.

Y - Yearning: She becomes almost dead inside when you’re away for too long. Like she answers in hums and “hmm”s, since she would be too tired to make out real words.

Z - Zeal: THE LENGTHS!! She’d move to a different house, state, and country for you. She’d speak a different language, make different foods, and especially kill you.

@salami2

[omegaversetheory]

Hello!

So uh, do you have any headcanons or things to consider for a Beta/Omega relationship (sexual and romantinc)? I'm quite struggling with it 'cuz I want to write something with that kind of relationship but my brain can't think 😖😖

Thank you! ���💖

Howdy! Let's rock and roll.

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

1. The beta doesn't know how to cook. The omega doesn't know how to cook. They are both hungry and it's too late at night/early in the morning to order any food that doesn't come from a drive-through...so they decide to cook pancakes. Seems easy enough, isn't easy enough.

2. Beta was worried about what their parents were going to say when they started seeing an omega. Not that their parents were ever outspoken about their thoughts about alt pairings but still, they come from an all beta family and this is just different. Parents love omega! So much so that they suggest to beta's younger siblings to go find alphas and omegas of their own for a little spice

3. Omega knew their family would be happy with beta, especially since they'd had so many bad experiences with alphas in the past.

4. Being with Beta in bed is a lot different than being with an alpha (or other omega) in omega's experience. Alpha's are obviously known for their magnetic and intense sexual prowess, but omega has been there done that. Beta isn't like that, it's more about the anticipation and the romance leading up to the kissing and the getting in bed than anything else.

5. Omega has been in way more relationships than Beta has, and so that combined with their headstrong personality means that they like to take the lead. They never felt like they could in other relationships and so they really like it. Plus beta loves being doted on and protected so it's a win win.

6. Going into heat is always a little bit awkward, omegas can only be truly satisfied by an alpha. But the beta is good at other things. Keeping the sheets clean, ordering a whole bunch of take-out and stocking up on snacks, keeping omega hydrated, and of course...toys come in handy too. So as time goes by they settle into their own routine, and it's perfect.

7. Beta and Omega work at the same company, and they kept their relationship a secret for a while. mostly while it was just flirting and talking and going out on dates (but not dating) because they didn't want to go to HR to fill out the paperwork. When Beta eventually did convince (begged) omega to go the HR manager just rolled his eyes and said everyone already knew so what was the point.

8. Omega asked Beta out, and beta was really nervous. They thought omega was totally out of their league and had never considered being with them. They caught feelings fast but hid it because omega took longer to get there.

9. When they first met, Omega wasn't monogamous. Although they weren't in an established poly pod they were seeing many people off and on. Alphas for heats and to have mind-blowing "o", other omegas for that softer sensual touch, and even other betas too. Beta and omega's first fight was when beta realized that omega was seeing other people at the same time as them, and omega realized beta wasn't. Omega had to sit down and decide if they could be monogamous with beta and if they could do that long-term.

10. Omega and beta aren't sure if they'll ever get married. Omega has always been sort of anti-marriage and because beta knows how big it is that omega is seeing them and them only, right now that's okay. Maybe they'll reevaluate at a later time, but maybe they won't.

-----

You guys better let me know if you ever use any of these - I NEED to read them!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 25

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+)

A/N: me to me “you shall not write smut. BEHAVE” also me “mILE HIGH CLUB”. 2021 barely started and i already need jesus. also rip me attempting to post this before christmas but hey i refuse to let christmas end bc christmas is my only hope and love and it’s over.

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky was the first one up as the clock struck 5AM. He was anxious for the flight, for everything really. Y/N had assured him she had bought first class tickets so he’d be comfortable with the long trip but he was still reticent about flying. As an Avenger he used to do national missions, preferring not to fly as it brought him some memories he didn’t like to relieve. Sam had suggested he took some sleeping pills while the flight was going but Bucky refused not to be there to support Y/N who’d been getting called by her team 24/7 about her “mishap” as her manager like to refer to. As if a 20-something dating was something weird. Bucky knew Steve did way worse things than that but of course, she had stepped off the line, off the good girl, virgin ‘til marriage, girl next door yet just gorgeously unattainable and if Y/N hadn’t told him to stay out of it, he would’ve threatened everyone.

Anyway, other than flying he kept wondering about her family. Y/N had a big family, at least more family than he had and he wasn’t entirely sure how they would react to him. Bucky knew he wasn’t the type of man you’d like your daughter to bring in. Who’d want to say that their daughter was dating an assassin? No one. He had wanted to say no, he wanted her to have a nice holiday but looking at her there was no denying her. 

Y/N woke up half an hour later, extending her arm towards Bucky’s side only to feel the cold of the sheets on her side. She rose her torso, rubbing the sleep off her eyes before the blurry room became clear. He was sat on the big armchair, staring at the flight tickets.

     - Someone’s an early bird. - she leaned on the bed, hands under her chin as he gave her his charming smile. - Excited?

     - Nervous. - he rose from his chair to kiss her forehead. - Do you need anything, princess?

     - Just need to get dressed. - she lazily got up from her bed. - You’re gonna love it, Buck. There’s snow on the ground, we can get spiced mulled tea and go see the decorations at the West End. 

     - I’m sure I will. Now get dressed unless you plan on going to the airport in your underwear.

     - I don’t see you complaining. - she flirted, hips moving side to side as she opened his wardrobe to grab her burgundy long sleeve dress and pair of black flats. Bucky tried his best not to ogle at her and her figure in a matching black set of star motif bra and panties with garters to see through black stockings. Sometimes he had to slap himself to convince himself the woman standing in front of him actually liked him. - You’re okay with going, right?

      - Of course, princess. Whatever makes you happy.

      - Okay but what makes you happy? We don’t need to go if you don’t feel comfortable. 

      - Just regular meeting the parents nerves. - he pulled her hair away from her face to kiss her forehead. 

      - Based on the photos Rebecca has, I would say you’ve met enough parents not to be nervous anymore. 

      - Come here, you little minx. - he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in close to him. - I will have you know that I never met any of the girls’ parents. It was not a good thing for a lady to be seen alone with a man in my time, so we had to keep it a secret.

      - Mhm, were you destroying ladies’ reputations in your day, Mr. Barnes? Is that it?

      - Not my fault they couldn’t resist me. - he leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face away, naughty smile on her lips. - Don’t do that to me, princess. It’ll break my tiny heart.

      - Stop playing Romeo and grab your bags before we’re late. - she swung her hips side to side to grab her own cary on, a small matte black suitcase with her initials on the bottom left in a small size. 

Bucky followed her into the airport. He couldn’t seriously remember the last time he had been in an airport, maybe during his youth but right now everything seemed so different yet he didn’t feel scared. He looked to his right and there she was, holding his hand as the other pulled her trolley, dark sunglasses on to hide who she was but still sporting that smile that was truly hers, something he could pick out of a crowd. He never really liked the word or feeling of possession, neither did she, but they didn’t really mind the feeling that a ship’s rope held both their hands together in a nautical strong knot. It was that sort of feeling that disconnected them both from what surrounded them, the sound of echoed and at the same time murmured silence. Y/N didn’t mind, Bucky didn’t mind. The flashlights went by dim and the announcements went mute for both of them.

Y/N however did not like airports. For her, airports signified goodbyes, harmful and painful goodbyes those were you wave goodbye to your loved ones and walk into security checks with tears lodged in her throat, telling herself to put herself together as she approached the beginning of that line. It represented waving goodbye to her comforts to travel somewhere she was not happy, not that her life in the US after she left the UK didn’t made her happy, it did but it was a faux happiness. It was locked inside a bought apartment with people who didn’t or refused to understand her, with friends she loved and cared for but didn’t really check on her them too lost on their own lives, it was yearning for a love that took years to come and everyone told her it would come but never did. It was an odd feeling being at the airport but being with Bucky twisted that. It was no longer leaving loved ones, it was departing with them, it was leaving all the mess that haunted her behind yet she couldn’t help feeling like something lingered in the wind, some cut throating emotions and actions which would return to her. 

She decided not to dwell on it, smiling at Bucky as he picked some snacks to bring inside the plane besides her telling him they probably would have the peanut M&Ms rather than his beloved chocolate only ones. She watched him as someone watched something that reminded them of a childhood memory or something that touched them, with a tinge of sadness, almost knowing it would never happen again. She felt tied to him but she felt at any time this knot could worn out and she feared he would leave. Things fade, nothing lasts forever and she wondered when he would realise that he was dating a ticking time bomb controlled by others. She had control over her own heart but her face, her reputation, that would never be hers to control. 

     - Y/N? - he laid his hand on top of her shoulder. - Are you okay, princess?

     - Yeah, just thinking. - she handed the lady the tickets, holding Bucky’s hand as he led her inside the airplane.

Y/N was lucky to be used to first class, she spent in life in it but for Bucky it was a jarring new experience. His parents used to be well off, better than most however they were never well enough to afford flying anywhere. The closest he’d been to flying was in military helicopters but all his experience to commercial flying had been watching on magazines but even this looked so different. It looked like a perfect first class bedroom in a five star hotel with individual little places for each passenger and some for couples which he guessed was one for the two of them. As they approached their cabin, a polished dressed lady signalled them inside their own seats. She looked at Bucky who had star filled eyes as he noticed all the comfort of his seat.

    - Is this how you travel? - he sat down by the window, looking at the small bottles of water, juices and fun sized treats. - Now I know why you travel so much. It’s like a damn hotel room here. 

    - Peanut M&M’s. - she grabbed one of the snacks from his side. - I believe you’ll be donating those to me. 

    - That’s a travesty, princess. I cannot believe you prefer those with peanuts

    - Peanuts are great. 

    - Unless you’re allergic to them.

    - You’re not allergic to peanuts. Steve would’ve told me if you were and I saw you eat a peanut energy bar yesterday. - she crossed her arms. 

    - First, I hate peanuts so it’s almost as if I were allergic to them. Second, KIND bars don’t count, you know how good they are, they add that little caramel drizzle.

    - I guess we’re gonna have more than my nephews and nieces for a picky eater this Christmas. - she laughed, picking the remote to shuffle through whatever the company offered. Bucky leaned on her shoulder, leaving a kiss on it right before he did. - Thank you for coming with me. 

   - That’s not a problem, princess. Besides, who would guard you if I were not to come?

   - Is this overtime then, Mr. Barnes? - she looked down at him, his childish yet charming smile whenever he meant to tease her which he so easily could do both meanings of the word. - We should prepare for take off. 

It couldn’t be too different from take off in the quinjet. Bucky had done it once after the train incident but it always brought him back to it. He wasn’t like this and it pained him that the slightest of turbulences in any travels now made him feel like a kid. He didn’t use to be like this, he was fearless, going on the Cyclone time and time again and now ... now he was a shell of a man afraid of take off. He shouldn’t be afraid, it was not his role, right? He knew things were different then and were different now but he always wanted to be strong, strong for her as if any insecurity would throw her away. He knew it didn’t, Bucky knew Y/N was there to stick around and didn’t care about what the war and HYDRA had done to him but he cared. Bucky wanted to be her hero, her safe harbour and with this ... 

His mind shattered into snowflakes as she held his hand, the captain’s voice muffled as the plane gathered speech. Y/N never hand cold hands or a cold touch, she was just warm, a little ray of sunshine burning his icy exterior and forcing him to see the beauty of winter. Bucky clearly mostly got distracted by her own beauty but her holding his hand, the rings on her fingers which she had gathered from little shops along the street against his hand, made him want to remove the dagger he had stuck on himself so he could feel pain forevermore. 

The plane move upwards, both of them being pulled against their seats by the laws of physics on an endless climb and he still had his eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness. 

    - Buck. - her finger caressed his jaw. - Look out the window. 

Bucky peaked open one of his eyes, looking out the window near him to see a full blue sky, completely different from the dark skies of the winter filled New York they had just left.

   - We fly above the clouds. Isn’t it beautiful? - she leaned against his shoulder. 

   - You see this everytime?

   - Unless I’m flying at night, yeah. Sunsets and risings are particularly stunning. 

   - Now what?

   - Now we wait for round 6 to 7 hours. We can put a movie on, maybe. Whatever you’d like.

Bucky took to shuffling through the movie catalogue himself. Some of the movies he’d never heard about and some he’d heard from Sam or from Steve’s list of movies he had to watch yet he never did. Capitan America himself stuck to the old classics, the movies they used to sneak through the backdoor of the theatre. He himself liked the classics too and Y/N, as a film/acting major herself, also had a soft spot for them. Bucky’s favourite was the Wizard of Oz, despite later knowing how controversial filming had been, yet he couldn’t help but always remember the wonder on his sister’s face and his own wonder as he watched the vivid colours. He could still feel it now, however the movie ended and soon the food came in and he found himself bored. There wasn’t much he could do on a plane and he found himself jealous of the 5 year old running up and down the cabin, despite most of Y/N’s laughter. 

He covered himself in the company’s blanket and snuggled against the pillow and still he couldn’t sleep. Y/N on the other hand had fallen asleep the moment she pulled the leg rest, wrapped around in her blanket, face facing his which gave Bucky the excuse to look at her while she slept. Bucky always found it wildly amusing how she slept, lips slightly puckered, eyes fluttering until she fell in deep and hands fisting the blanket up to her chin. Eventually, Bucky got frustrated, moving around in his seat to find a comfortable position. How come he couldn’t find a comfortable position on a first class seat?

    - Buck ... - she groaned, opening her eyes. - Stop moving around. 

    - I’m sorry, princess. I’m just ... so bored. How do you do this?

    - I sleep. - she placed the blanket on her lap. - Why don’t you get something else to eat?

    - How many hours left?

    - You don’t wanna know. - she rubbed the sleep of her eyes, Bucky still laid against his seat, blanket on his lap, head against the head rest. Y/N started thinking about how to entertain him until her gaze fell onto his lap. Looking around the cabin was quiet, no cabin crew or passengers on their feet, just a calm cabin. 

She moved closer to him, head against her shoulder, facade of a glistening angel on a renaissance painting. Her fingers traced the soft finish of his blanket, the embodied company name until her fingers were under the soft fabric. She slide her hand under his shirt, feeling his warm skin as her hand travelled downwards towards the Hugo Boss boxers he wore, fingers hooking on the waistband. Bucky swallowed dry, wondering if he had finally gone to sleep and this was finally a good dream or if his sweet, innocent girlfriend was actually about to do what his mind was rushing to as her fingers wrapped around his softened member. He grunted, looking at her like she was a fever dream, hips mindlessly thrusting into her soft warm hand. He would say there was no better feeling, had it not been for the fact he had been inside of her. 

Y/N bite her lip, insecurely swiping her thumb over the tip, his pre cum dripping onto it. She didn’t know what she was doing, mostly going by the erotica she had read and seen before, guiding herself by his low sounds, mumbled by his own hand which laid against his own mouth. She looked up at him, cerulean eyes looking at the ceiling as if all his strength would break loose were he to look at her and she thought that was the most gorgeous he’d look. She straight herself up, pushing his hand away from his mouth to start kissing him, something which would look rather innocent to anyone who passed by. Her kiss was warm, hot and sinful, much more different than the shy ones she would lay on him each morning yet he guessed it matched with her movements, fast and tighter against his cock. He tried to remain still, allow her to do what she wanted to do but his body had a different idea, hips thrusting and gyrating against her hand like some idiot teenager as her mouth lowered to kiss his pulse point. His breathe quickened, coming into staccatto as her movement quickened. The environment was blurry and all he could think about and hear were her movements and his body shuddering until he was spurting thick ropes of white liquid onto her hand and his breathe came out knocked as if he had finished a race. 

She cleaned her palm with a tissue, bringing her fingers up to her cherry tinted lips from her chapstick, disappearing within the plumpness of them. He swore he could cum again just from that sight. As he tried to regain his breathe from the latter event, she gave him a shy smile, pushing her blanket up to her chin. Whatever she did to him, whatever release she had given him had made him comfortable enough on that cloud nine that sent him into sleeping, only awaking once the plane wheels hit British soil. 

It was dark, around 9PM the captain had said and Bucky himself thought the trip was over until both of them disembarked onto the airport which was a completely different world. Had it not been by Y/N’s unwillingness to spend more time in an airport, he would’ve possibly stood behind taking pictures yet once she spotted a man with a sheet with her name written in, she had his hand on hers and dragged him up to it.

Bucky had been in London, he remembered it from the war and some buildings were the same yet everything was brighter. His eyes shone against the decorations, wondering how bigger they could get and Y/N took great pleasure in seeing him so happy. All she wanted was to make him happy, all she wanted was to see him happy. The taxi driver stopped in front of her childhood home which gladly always seemed to look the same with christmas lights and garlands. Both of them step out the car and the nerves finally hit Bucky. How do you meet someone’s parents? How do you meet the person who just gave you a handjob’s parents and make a good impression? How could he make a good impression? He was a hundred year old never aging man with a metal arm dating the little rose that everyone put on an altar. He didn’t belong. Maybe he could stop her, maybe he could convince her not to ring the bell except she was already ringing the bell and the door was opening up.

A short woman in a white jumper and jeans opened the door. She had Y/N’s eyes, the same eyes Bucky would recognise anywhere and based by the tight hug she gave Y/N, he would guess she was his mother.

   - Mum, this is Bucky. - she held Bucky’s hand. What should he do? Should he wave?

   - Oh my, you’re tall. I thought that with a nickname like that you’d be small. Oh, here I am again rambling. We are so happy here, you know, you’re the first man Y/N brings home.

   - Mum!

   - What? It’s true. You’re my oldest child and only now have you brought a man. Aunt Petunia is really proud of you.

   - Mum!

   - Come in, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? Come meet the family.

taglist: @disasterbii​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @buckyandsebastian​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34​ @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Can you please write a SFW Alphabet with Kuina? 💕💕💕

Of course I can! Thanks so much for requesting! ❤️

SFW Alphabet | Hikari Kuina

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character: Hikari Kuina

Genre: fluff

*based in the real world, not in the Borderland

A - Affection

(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

People would always perceive her as someone who hates affection, but only you would know the truth

PDA wise, she wouldn’t be a fan of affection out in public

She would hold your hand or have an arm around you but that’s it

When it’s just the two of you though, she would be so affectionate

She wouldn’t particularly always want to be touching you, but she would show her love through acts of service, like cooking or taking care of you

She would also just like being in your presence, like just being in the same room with you would be enough for her to feel comforted

B - Best Friend

(What would they be like as a best friend?)

She would be the quiet friend, but secretly really protective and strong-willed

She would always love spending time with you

Every time you ask her to hang out she would always accept

Your favourite thing to do together would be going to all different restaurants and trying the food in each one

I can see her as being quite hard-headed as a friend, probably not listening to a lot of people when they tell her not to do something

With her best friend, she would be very open to and would love to have deep conversations every now and then

Your parents would love her, for some reason everyone’s parents absolutely adore her

C - Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She would probably become super cuddly when she’s tired

If she’s had a long day, she would walk up to you and throw her entire body weight onto you, wanting to be babied

“Y/N, carry me.” “Kuina, I’m in the middle of somethin-” “Carry me please!”

You would never be able to sleep without her tucked so close to you

Even on really hot nights, she wouldn’t care if you’re sweating, she wants to feel you close and that’s all that matters

In the morning though she’d somehow end up on the complete opposite end of the bed to you

Her favourite way to cuddle would be sitting on each other’s laps

She would love the protectiveness she feels when seeing you all curled into her, tucked into her neck

And she would love having your arms around her when she’s on your lap, feeling happy and safe

If you thread your fingers through her hair, she would marry you right there

D - Domestic

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

She’d settle so quickly with you

Would act like you’ve been dating for years after only living together for two weeks

It would be comforting, seeing how she obviously trusts that she’ll be with you for a long time

She would talk about you to Chishiya and Alice like as if you two were married

Helping around the house wise, I have a feeling she has a hidden cleaning obsession

It would drive you insane most of the time, because she would always clean your empty cups and bowls up seconds after you put it down

She defiantly moves things all the time, and you always have to ask her were she’s put stuff

E - Ending

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

She would do it very slowly and gradually, always sending small signals that she wants to separate

She wouldn’t be able to do it straight up, she would feel too guilty

In the end, it would come to a mutual agreement, both of you deciding that it’s what's best, even if it’s incredibly hard

Would try her best to move on quickly, but would probably still have moments wear she would miss you months after separating

I think she would try her best to stay friends with you

She knows it wouldn’t be as close as when before you were dating, but at least it would be something

F - Fiancé(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Would be so committed to you, she would want to marry you and have kids so quickly

She would want to go quickly because she gets excited about spending the rest of her life with you

She would always drag you to the jewelry shops to look at the rings

“Y/N look at this, they’re matching rings! This would suit us so well!”

You honestly find it adorable when she gets excited over things like marriage and kids

Look forward to it because it would definitely happen soon enough!

G - Gentle

(How gentle are they, physically and emotionally?)

Physically, I think you both would be a bit rough with each other

You would have wrestling matches on the loungeroom floor, the winner being the one who doesn’t have to cook dinner

I feel like in heated moments you two would throw each other around playfully while laughing and making out

Emotionally would be the complete opposite though

If you weren’t having the best day, she would stop everything she is doing and make you talk to her about it

She would be such a good listener, always taking your feelings into account in every situation and making sure you’re 100% comfortable

If you ever started crying in front of her, mother mode activated

She would coo and rub your back as you cry into her shoulder

Then she would pull back and kiss the tears from your cheeks, giving you big smooches everywhere until you felt better

H - Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often would they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Her hugs would feel like a warm fire

I have a feeling that she always radiates warmth, like her skin is always hot

She would be your own little personal heater

She loves to do surprise hugs by picking you up from behind and pressing her face into your upper back while laughing at your struggling

She would hug you so much at home

Mostly when she’s bored. She would get up and go looking for you just to give you a big snuggle

I - I Love You

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think it would be an unspoken thing between you two that you’ve just always said it

When you said it to her for the first time, it wasn’t a big deal because it felt so natural

You didn’t even realize that you had said it until a few minutes after

Kuina would always have said it from the start, wanting to be honest and give her heart to you fully

You would say it to each other so often, like multiple times a day

It would be like a ritual to say it before going to sleep

Even if you’ve had an argument, she would refuse to go to sleep without saying it to you

J - Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What would they do when they’re jealous?)

Probably doesn’t get jealous too easily

She would only get jealous if someone obviously was showing much interest in you

She knows and trusts that you love her too much to find someone else

Although, on the rare times when she would get jealous, she would be very upfront about it

If you were talking to someone who was very obviously flirting with you, Kuina would act really cliché and place a passionate kiss on your lips right in front of them

That alone would most of the time draw them away from you

“Oh hey baby, what was that for?” “Just claiming what’s mine.”

K - Kisses

(What would their kisses be like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where would they like to be kissed?)

Passionate kisses 24/7

She wouldn’t want any sissy pecks on the lips, she wants passion and tongue

Your kisses together would always end in dazed eyes and messy hair

Especially ones where Kuina would smash her lips onto yours surprisingly

You would just melt into her, completely at her mercy

Her favourite place to kiss you would obviously be your neck

Such spice and passion

She would love to mark it up, ending in your being frustrated about having to wear turtlenecks or cover it with heaps of foundation

Her favourite place to be kissed by you would be her shoulders

She would love when you hug her from behind and press your lips against her shoulders

She would just fall back into your chest, smitten for your kisses

L - Little Ones

(How are they around children?)

I honestly think she would not like any kids accept her own

She would tolerate kids, but she would hate it if they begun climbing all over her and pulling her hair and such

She would probably prefer newborn babies rather than toddlers

She loves their mushy little faces and big eyes

If someone in one of your families has a baby, she would always ask to hold them

Could probably spend hours just looking down at the tiny human in her arms, captivated by their small hands wrapping around her thumb

Would be so cute to watch though

After every time she holds a baby, she would have baby fever for a few days, always bringing them up in conversation with you and showing you cute pictures online

M - Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings would be so chaotic

I can see her being an early bird, always waking up refreshed and ready for the day

If you were still asleep when she wakes up, I can see her leaning over you with a cheeky grin on her face

“Baby~ It’s time to... wAKE UP!” *tickle attack* “AHHH”

She wouldn’t leave you alone until you woke up

Climbing and lying on you, peppering kisses all over your face

Never expect to have a peaceful sleep in with her around

N - Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

Probably gets tired easily, so she goes to sleep early

If you watched a movie together, she would probably fall asleep and you would have to carry her to the bed and tuck her in like a baby

If you go to sleep together, she would become extra clingy while she’s tried

When you’re trying to brush your teeth she would be draping her body across you

“We can cuddle in a sec just let me wash my face.” “Just come to bed now you don’t need to.”

O - Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

Would be open from the start of the relationship

She would hate hiding things from you

She knows that you may not be as open, because she understands that everyone has boundaries

She would tell you about her childhood growing up and how she struggled with her father accepting her

You would be the only person she’s completely open to

Everyone else has to earn her trust, but to her you’re going to spend the rest of your life together, so she may as well be honest

P - Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

She would be quite hard to really piss off

In your relationship, you would have really small arguments but they would be resolved super easily

Although, on the one occurrence that she became incredibly mad, it would be terrifying

She becomes so quiet, not talking at all

It would freak you out because it would be so unpredictable

Nothing you do would get her incredibly mad though, it would always be someone else related

Q - Quizzes

(How much would they remember about you?)

Probably everything

She’s quiet, but she’s observant

She knows everything about everyone

Definitely knows more about you than you do yourself

But she would always use it to her advantage

Always tricking you into doing things by involving things like your favourite foods or your favourite places to go

R - Remember

(What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

It would be one night when you first became really emotionally vulnerable in front of her

You would have a lot of walls up during the first few months of your relationship, so Kuina values this moment so much

You had a bad argument with your parents, making you feel very emotional

You dragged yourself to Kuina’s place, wanting to be with no one else except her

You laid in her arms all night, feeling safe and warm in her embrace while talking about what happened, crying every so often

She loves this moment because she feels like it really brought you two so much closer and was a huge step in your relationship, strengthening your trust in her

S - Security

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

She would be very protective

Always keeping you close when out in public

Even with your friends that you’ve known for years, she would always get you to text her every now and then when you go to hang out with them

If someone sketchy was approaching you and talking to you, she would make sure to put herself in between you two and hold you behind her protectively

But of course, no one would want to mess with her due to her martial arts skills

One time she kicked a guy in the side of the head because he tried to grab your arm to drag you away from her

He definitely learned not to do that again

T - Try

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

You both wouldn’t go overboard on anniversaries

She’d plan something super simple, like a picnic date down at the local lake

Or a late night swim at the beach together after a restaurant dinner

For gifts, she would love to buy you clothes

She always looks at nice clothes and imagines you in them

Would get super proud when you like it and wear it a lot

As I mentioned before, her love language would be acts of service

She would show how much she loves you through doing tasks for you

Like making you tea / coffee when you don’t ask

Or giving you shoulder rubs after a stressful day

She would just love taking care of you

U - Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She would be really bad at admitting she’s wrong

It would be the cause of most of your small arguments, but you would usually have to be the person to apologize

It’s not that she’s too prideful to say sorry, she would just most of the time believe that she is the one in the right

V - Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

She definitely tries to look at least half decent before leaving the house

It would sometimes cause you to be a bit late to some events

She would at least always wear foundation and mascara

Looking at her hair, it would sometimes get hard to keep that managed

When she’s around the house, she would her dreadlocks down and around her face

But when she goes outside she would always tie it up

W - Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

She’d try so hard to not come across as completely smitten for you, but the truth is really obvious

She honestly cannot go a day without seeing your face

If she had to go a few days without seeing you, she would feel quite lost

She trusts no one as much as she trusts you

Wants to spend her whole life with you, always being by your side

X - Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

She would have a weird love for onesies

Like the animal ones

Would have multiple in your cupboard, always wearing them around the house on cold, rainy nights or lazy mornings

She would look so cute and cuddly in them

You would not be able to let go of her while she wears them

Sometimes you wonder if she wears them just to have your undivided attention

Y - Yuck

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

She would hate incredibly loud and obnoxious people

Like those type of extroverts that are a little too confident for their own good

It would give her headaches if she dated someone who was always full of energy and talking her ear off

She prefers friends and lovers who are real and emotional, usually acting rational and calm

Of course she would love a little loud fun once in a while, but she knows when it’s time to chill

Z - Zzz

(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

She moves a lot

I mentioned this before, but she would have herself wrapped around you when going to sleep but by morning she would be on the other side of the bed

You aren’t sure if it was from dreams she has or if she just does it naturally

Sometimes her tossing and turning would wake you up, and you would shake her awake to make sure she’s okay

SFW Alphabet Template

[rivetwrites]

Fluff Alphabet with Gundham?

you got it anon!!

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

Gundham Takana Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Gundham is a loner, having little to no experience in spending time with other people that aren’t his pets. With you, he’d love to showcase all of his marvelous Dark Devas of Destruction. He’d show you all the little tricks he taught them to do, or how to properly pet them. He trusts you dearly with his best friends, so he’s not too worried.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He thinks you’re perfect in his eyes. The way you don’t melt when he hugs you with his poisoned skin would easily be the best. He’s a very awkward person, so he compliments you on “how beautiful your cursed lips are.” It gets kind of dumb sometimes, but you can tell he’s trying.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Gundham is usually the one to send his Dark Devas to comfort you from across the room. He makes them hold little notes with hearts on them to send to you. He’s too shy to directly comfort you, so this would be the best thing. Once he finds that you keep them all, his cursed heart melts in his chest <3.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He doesn’t think about the future that often, since he usually lives for the now. But he sometimes thinks on how you two can take care of his animals together, or maybe share a household together. He wants you to be apart of his life, he’s just super hard to get to.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

The Supreme Overlord of Ice always takes care of his darling, no matter what. But sometimes, he’d need a bit of help knowing what to do in a relationship. Poor boy never truly had anyone to love besides his mother and pets, so he would be confused on how to progress through the relationship.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Gundham hates fighting with people, usually finding a way to get out of it before it escalates. But if it did get too bad, he’d apologize immediately. He can’t bear the thought of you being upset at him, pushing past his anxiety to comfort you himself. But if you upset him, he’d need a bit of time alone with his thoughts and Devas. He’ll come to you once he’s ready.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s kind of oblivious if you do things for him, like buying his pets their favourite food for them. It takes awhile for him to realize it’s you, and not his powers bringing his Devas’ gifts of gratitude. He’ll thank you immediately, with his scarf covering half of his face to hide his blush.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Gundham has the tendency to hide his feelings from people who he doesn’t trust, or not comfortable around. It takes a bit of time for him to open up to you about how he’s feeling, or what he’s been through in the past with his family. He trusts that you’ll be able to keep his secret, or he’ll have to curse you. He knows he would never have to, though.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Gundham is...Gundham. Always will be. The only thing that would change is that he slowly allows you to touch him. He has a little fear of people’s touch, which he covers up by saying his skin is poisonous to mortals. For you, he would probably change your perspective on “scary” animals, such as bears, or lions. He’ll love to show you how gentle they can be, even if it still scares you sometimes.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He has a big fear of someone stealing you away from him and leaving him behind. He feels like he’s not good enough for you, but he’s slightly greedy, so he would never let you go so easily. If someone was flirting with you, he’d be slightly oblivious. “Yes, of course my sovereign is beautiful. Don’t speak some foolish, obvious observation.” If he finally figured out that they were flirting, he would threaten to put a curse on him and his bloodline.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It takes quite a long time for Gundham to kiss you, always chickening out before it gets too close. Of course you’ll wait until he’s ready. Once he is, it’s clumsy, very shy, and gentle. You two almost bonk heads as he kissed you suddenly. He’d nearly be sinking into his scarf, mumbling on how soft you were.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Very dramatic, yet very awkward. As soon as he figured out what he was feeling for you was love, he’d find you immediately. “Mortal, my...human half inside of me is telling me that I have very strong...feelings for you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, his scarf slowly inching up his face as he waits for your answer.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s very iffy on marriage. Of course he wants you to be his forever, but he feels like there doesn’t need to be an official label on it. You’re his Sovereign of Ice, he doesn’t need some piece of paper to tell him that.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Sovereign of Ice,” “my dearest,” are his go-tos, both in public and in private. He believes you’re worthy enough to be by his side, so he’s going to address you as such.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Gundham has a hard time showing love to anyone, so you’re not going to be any different. If he’s comfortable enough with you, he’ll slowly bring you into his arms as he rests his chin on top of your head. It doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t have to. It’s amazing enough for him to muster up the courage to do this, so his actions speak much louder than words. More commonly though, he’d constantly declare his love for you in private, telling you how much you mean to his cursed heart.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He’s a big loner and very quiet about his personal life, but it’s no secret that he’s dating you. He never ever kisses you in public, because he’s already shy enough to hold your hand around everyone else.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s absolutely amazing at listening to you. If you have a problem and need to vent, he’ll be there with his Devas in your lap as you complain about your friends, family, work, school, anything. After, he’ll support you and give you some advice that has helped him in the past.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

His dates usually consist on staying home and making food yourself. Gundham isn’t the best in social situations, so a date with just you, him, and his Devas, would be great in his book.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Your goals will be his goals as well. He’ll try his hardest to help you reach your goals in your life, as long as you help with his. He would never ever make fun of you for your goals, no matter how out there they are. He’s the Supreme Overlord of Ice, for hells sake! Nothing is impossible with him!!

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He would rather do things that you’re both comfortable with. His idea of “spice” in your relationship is going out to a diner to eat. He’s not much of a risk taker, but he rather have things happen naturally, than to have a routine.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Gundham is very empathetic, even though he has a hard time showing it and helping you. He’s the best at listening to you and your problems and will do his absolute best to help you get through them. You’re never going to be alone with your troubles when you’re with Gundham.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You are his everything. You and his pets are his lifeline, and he would give anything and everything in his life you keep you guys safe.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It’s very easily to tell when he’s needy for love. He’ll follow you around like a small, lost puppy, nudging you slightly with his arm. He’ll act like it was nothing, but once you hold him in your arms, he’ll melt instantly.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Affection isn’t a need for him at all. He prefers to vocally tell you his love rather than show it. Though, getting ready for bed, he’d love to rest his cheek on your chest has he listens to your heartbeat. It keeps him grounded, and it helps him sleep peacefully.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’s rarely lonely, since he’s a loner, and he has all his pets to keep him company. But he wished you were here with him so he can protect you. Once you return home, all his Devas would climb on you as he hugs you lightly.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Gundham is willing to protect you the entire relationship. He may be very awkward and shy in regards of romance and affection, but he’d push away his discomfort to make you feel happy.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Word Of Your Body Duet (Roland x Rin Davies)

Andante, Andante

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: angst, bit of fluff mixed in with smut, one outdated word,

A/N: Everyone has their secrets, but sometimes we need someone to share them with. Roland just chooses his last night to let Rin in on his. This is a follow-up to Songbird

Roland sat on the edge of Rin's bed while she paced back and forth anxiously in front of him. Since he came over earlier in the evening, they only managed to kiss until their lips swelled. Rin had taken her gloves off, but refused to touch Roland anywhere with bare skin.

“I don't understand. You said I do nothing to ye?”

“You-you don't,” Rin stuttered. “At least not normally. This isn’t normal, Roland. We've known each other for over a year, and until yesterday neither of us have given any inkling that we are attracted to each other. I mean who wouldn't be attracted to you? Look at you, you're terribly handsome.”

Roland cocked an eyebrow, “Handsome in a terrible way. I'll admit t’the terrible part. I can be a bit..”

“Of a twat?”

“Much. It's the handsome part I don't know I’d agree with. There's not exactly a line around the block.”

“I just don't like surprises. I've had things happen.. To me. I can't take that again.”

Roland reached out and hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Rin’s jeans. He drew her down into his lap, his arms held her in place.

“First you’re giving me motion sickness watching all that back and forth. Second will ye just bloody touch me?! Anywhere, you'll see something I've never told anyone at this school. Not that I have friends besides you.”

Rin’s heart fell. That really couldn't be the truth? Roland wasn't all that bad, he was just a little.. blunt. Not that she had friends, present company aside. It was difficult for Rin to get close with anyone in case their true personalities showed through. She had a knack for telling people their feelings before they were even ready.

“What if I don't like what I see?”

“It's nothing that salacious. Just a wee bit I suppose,” there was a shrug in his shoulder. “If ye don't like it, ye never have t’see me again.”

“Why do you keep saying that like another semester won't roll around?”

“I'm moving to Perth,” he said matter of fact.

“AUSTRALIA?!” Rin was gobsmacked.

“Jupiter!” Roland gave a mock surprised face that teased the girl on his lap.

Rin shoved Roland somewhere between serious and playful. “Oh don't be a bastard!”

“I can't be one! My parents were married!” his brows furrowed in fake consternation. “As far as I know at least?” He stroked his chin in deep thought.

“Can you ever talk without sarcasm or snark?!”

“I'm like Tinkerbell, but I must be acerbic to live!”

Rin’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head. The banter was so natural between them. In that weird way you never notice how much you want or need someone until they won't be there tomorrow. She became instantly pained. Rin had never felt as at-ease with anyone, sharing her secrets and her songs as openly as she did with Roland.

Now her voice was soft and sad, “What's in Oz you can't find here?”

“They offered me a place at their sister conservancy. I've got family over there too. What's left of them.”

Roland nudged his nose against Rin’s. He nuzzled downwards and along her cheek. Taking a chance in kissing her once more where his nose had been. He let his lips linger on her skin, so she knew he would be an open book if she wanted. Even if it was just a day or so before he left her.

Rin draped her arms around Roland’s shoulders before kissing him again. There was a heat, that taste of smoke. Of trailers and RVs all parked together around campfires and music. Then a spice of peppers as his tongue overpowered hers. His kisses taste like Travellers, once called Gypsy.

Roland’s mouth was hungry for her as he awkwardly reached for the hem of her shirt. Desperate to feel Rin, she could tell. All of her. There was nothing sinister about his intentions. Just fiddles and drums and whiskey.

In a blur of laughter and limbs, Rin and Roland clambered to their feet to strip down to their underwear. She flattened her scarred hands on his chest. For someone who could see into someone's mind or emotions, how did Rin miss his olive skin? Those subtle differences that would've given him such grief if others knew.

Rin said it out loud in the sudden quiet. only Roland’s wild heartbeat under her fingers and heavy breath that builds. “You're a gypsy.”

Her eyes focused on his body. An ache between her thighs as she glanced down at the erection inside of his boxers. He wasn't embarrassed. In fact, he was quite confident for Roland at this moment.

Roland’s hands were in Rin’s hair. Entangled so that they tugged her head upwards with a pleasurable pain. She was forced to meet his eyes as he leaned down to mesh his mouth with hers again. His tongue darted in swiftly before she reciprocated. He let his hands stray down over her body to the hook of her bra where he fumbled but only briefly before it came free.

“Not anymore,” Roland’s voice thick.

“I'm sorry. Traveller?” Rin was apologetic.

Her hips involuntarily pushed into his as she lightly brushed her fingers down his body. They traced around his waist to the small of his back. That dip just above the band of his boxers.

“No, I mean I'm not a Traveller or a gypsy anymore. Best assimilate with the other gorja. Being “normal” has made everything easier.”

There was a sadness now in Roland's flesh. It flowed just underneath the surface as Rin embraced him. Her experience with tents and churches and people “speaking in tongues” as her parents forced her to perform “miracles” on blind faith punters bubbled over her surface and spread to Roland’s.

“Wren. It wasn't like that. I'm sad because I miss them. I'm ashamed of turning my back on the people who raised me. That's where I fell in love with music. C’mon you’re ruining our last night!”

Roland let go and laid on the bed with his back to the wall. He propped himself up on his elbow and tapped the bed a few times. “Let me take care of you?” An eyebrow arched suggestively.

“You know what you're doing?”

Still, Rin laid down beside Roland on her back. He bent forward with a hand on her neck and pecked her lips softly. Once. Twice, before she opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue. They mingled and danced with each other as Rin slipped her hand inside the fly of Roland’s boxers so she could trace her fingers along his erection.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Roland’s stomach contracted at her touch. Rin knew it was more of a delighted surprise as her hand now curled around the shaft and began to stroke back and forth. Her fingertips worked up a friction as he finally exhaled heavily into her. Then, with just a moment’s hesitation, palmed her between the legs.

Rin’s turn to gasp in pleasure as he rubbed swift circles on her underwear. Teased her until a wetness formed that he pushed the fabric aside to get to. His fingers easily slid in and out of her until they almost started to play. Hooked and curved like she was guitar strings. Rin clenched her eyes shut in ecstasy as she broke the kiss to bury her hand at a pillow. With their guard down, Roland began to play.

Rin got lost in the way his fingers moved inside of her. They searched and learned as they went. She felt Roland’s eyes on her as he darted in over her G-Spot, but Rin thought that to be accidental. Still he forged on; only stopping when her body started to jerk just slightly. He kept at it once he realized that was her clit.

Roland craned again to cover Rin’s mouth with a kiss. His hand never ended manipulating her as he opened a door to her gifts. She was at her most vulnerable, and welcomed him in.

Roland stood just outside the caravan his family spent their summers. He and his Dá had their rows over the enrollment at the conservancy. How had he saved that much money, and why had he disobeyed the rules of the family? Every penny earned went to them, the community. Not some gorja school in Cork.

Roland knew if he left he would be excommunicated from them. He couldn't return, they would make sure he wouldn't be able to find them. Still, with his kit and guitar he looked ahead and never back. He wouldn't always blend in; when he hit it big, Roland would pay them their respect.

By first year's end, gifted students like him were set up with mentors. Someone who had been around the program for a few years. She was pretty with soul piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. Roland was smitten.

Unused to outsiders who moved kind of slow compared to Traveller girls who weren't afforded time. They married by 17 or 18; his own mother was only 33 years old while Roland was 18. Yet in his culture, sex before marriage was unheard of. They dated in large chaperoned groups, and being alone with a woman was forbidden until marriage. His mentor took advantage of that. Of him.

It started the way some flings do, innocent flirting. Then one day as they sat side by side on the piano bench, she stopped playing and made a pattern of nothing on Roland’s thigh. She lightly scratched the denim material before passing over his crotch. Roland played faster to match his breathing as she started to tighten her grip on his noticeable erection. She unzipped his jeans, delved inside his boxers to take his naked cock in her hand. His improvised playing matched the way she began to jerk him off. Frenzied. Clandestine. Wanton. His music and the way he felt were both.. Perfect.

That's the way she did it. Told him it was more fun to keep it hidden. Just between them when it was their time in the practice suites. How powerful it made Roland feel to have a secret like that. How she went down on him some days. Or when they finally fucked (Roland was convinced it was more) on the piano bench. She rode him while he admitted he loved her. He always said he loved her. She would ignore him.

His scores faltered a bit, but his teachers agreed it was probably the adjustment to conservancy life. He was still better than nearly everyone, which made his head grow. Until one afternoon when they were in the room. A surprise.

Roland laid on top of Rin, her legs bent around him. He dug through the pockets of his jeans almost frantically. He was pressed hard into her thigh, but Rin urged him inside of her.

“What are you doing?”

“I forgot a condom.”

“Doesn't matter”

“Do ye really want t’have a baby with someone like me?”

“I can't have them,” Rin was matter of fact.

“Oh.. I'm sorry?” Roland pushed up on one arm to get a better look at her.

“I don't know if you should be. I'm not exactly chuffed with myself half days, imagine me as a mum. With my,” she held her hands aloft. Roland kissed them.

“Then you're meant for so much more.” It was a whisper as he sunk inside of his friend.

Rin’s breath caught in her throat for the hundredth time that evening. She held Roland as he moved in her the same way his fingers had. Her hands splayed along his shoulders as they found a cadence; silent except for their breathing. Roland’s heavy. Rin's airy as she realized a little more about him.

She was married. With a little girl about 7 or 8. Roland knew her husband as the head of the classical music department. Roland’s department. He listened as they talked about him like an art exhibit instead of a human. technique not passion.

But the husband found out, and Roland was placed in the folk music program. It just made him heart sick for Ireland and caravans and Sunday night cèilidh. How he couldn't go back, but she had stopped him from moving forward. Folk music, HIS music, required love and emotion and Roland had been told he was only good for the technical.

Then he did something he hadn't done since he was 3 or 4, Roland just stopped. He'd play something that was mechanical and cold and hard like he would become. Even if Rin had changed his view these past few months.

Rin loved Roland in that moment as he rocked harder and faster. And he loved her. It wasn't the romantic kind; that was ok too. Sometimes you just need a partner to play music with.

Tag list: @robertsheehanownsmyass @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @sean-falco @magic-multicolored-miracle @forenschik @crisis-of-joy @slutforrobbiebro @firstpersonnarrator

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ FALLIN' ALL IN YOU ❜

Songfic with ‘Fallin' all in you’ by Shawn Mendes.

with Jackson ‘Jax’ Teller.

Request: Hellooo love!! How are You?? Hope You good💕 could I request a jax teller x reader? Jax propose to the reader and then they have a wedding and some smutt!! Thank you honeeeyyy💕💕💕 love your work!! Just keep going💗 You are amazing🥰

BY ANON

The marriage proposal.

Warnings: none, fluff af.

Word count: about 1.7k

Aurora says: I didn't write the smut part because I thought that didn't fit in. this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist.

Sunrise with you on my chest. No blinds in the place where I live, daybreak, open your eyes. This was only ever meant to be for one night. Still, we're changing our minds here. Be yours, be my dear.

Today is the day. Today is the day when you're going to marry your best friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life, the best man you could ever know. And even if it's supposed that the night before you shouldn't sleep together, you don't believe in superstition. You two wanted to wake up as a couple to go to sleep as a married couple. Your nose caresses his, purring as he closes his arms tightly around your body. One of your hands tour his neck slowly, with the tip of your fingers running over his skin and flooding on his lips, gently and sleepy kissing them. One second after, his mouth meets yours with a soft move before opening his eyes.

“You on time to run away”. He whispers with a hoarse and deep tone of voice.

“You too”. You chuckle sinking your face under his chin.

“I love you, darling”.

“I love you more, Jackie boy”.

So close with you on my lips, touch noses, feeling your breath. Push your heart and pull away. Be my summer in a winter day love. I can't see one thing wrong between the both of us. Be mine, anytime.

When the door rings, you're ready to start with the preparatives at the clubhouse, where your wedding dress waits for you. But before you can go with your girls, Jax grabs your wrist to pull you into him with that dearly smile on his lips that shakes your legs.

“Goodbye, miss (Y/L/N). I will see you again calling yourself ‘Teller’”. He says very proud, peeking your lips with short kisses.

“That sounds amazing”. You mutter against his lips, surrounding his neck with both arms tangled on.

“I can't wait to be married”. Putting away a soft tuft of your hair, he leans forward to kiss your forehead with all the love he carries on his chest.

“Then, hurry. I'm the one who has to be late, remember?”

Fast forward a couple years, grown up in the place that we live. Make love, then we fight, and laugh 'cause it was only meant to be for one night, baby. I guess we can't control what's just not up to us.

You're sitting on a stool in Jax dorms, while Laila does your hair. A beautiful braid decorated with white flowers on it. Watching the long white silk dress hanging from the top of the bathroom door, you can't help but think about the day you met. It was like fifteen years ago, in the kinder garden. Actually, it was really cute because there were some children trying to take off from you a teddy bear, because apparently you were too old to play with him. And Jax appeared from nowhere, followed by Opie. You still laugh because of the looks on their faces.

“That's ready, honey. Do you wanna see it?” Layla asks you while you stand up, straight to hug her.

“It isn't necessary. I would trust you my life”. You just say, before being interrupted by Gemma.

“Look at you…” She said almost in tears, opening and closing the door as fast as she can, to hold you into her arms. “You're going to be the most beautiful Old Lady ever…”

“Do you think that… Jax would like it?”

“Of course he will, sweetheart”.

Every time I see you, baby, I get lost. If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up. Every night I'm with you, I fall more in love. Now I'm laying by your side and everything feels right since you came along.

The front yard of Teller-Morrow is completely changed. The main door is closed and covered, so you will have the intimacy you deserve. Maybe it isn't the most romantic place on earth, but it's the one where you grow up with Jax and your families. There's a big flowers arch as an altar, and the alley to it it's in the middle of the guests. You will have to walk over a red carpet as if you were a star, because Tig said so.

When the door of the clubhouse gets opened and your bridesmaids step out from it, the soft music floods the crowded yard. The girls positioned themselves at the right of Jackson, waiting impatiently on the altar with Opie putting well on his tie and the flower on the lapel. But as soon as your future husband watches you walk towards him, grabbed to your father's arm, he breaks into tears. You can hear some chuckles, some kindly whispers, and Jax laughing between a soft cry, so proud of what he is seeing.

Oh, you know I've been alone for quite a while. Haven't I? I thought I knew it all, found love, but I was wrong more times than enough. But since you came along…

“When I met you, fifteen years ago… I promised you that I would protect you with my life”. He has to do a brief pause, freeing your hands to clear his tears with the back of them. “You made me a better man. You took care of me, loved me unconditionally, without asking anything back. You have been my best friend since ever, my counselor, my anchor to keep floating, and I can't wait to continue my life with you, (Y/N). I can't wait to have a family with you. To come back home everyday and fall asleep with you between my arms. I will never love anyone like I love you. And I want to show it to you every single second for the rest of my life, 'cause I'm the luckiest man on earth. You're kind, attentive, motivating, honest, careful, loyal. You are perfect for me, and I couldn't imagine a day without you”.

Leaning forward, Jackson kisses your cheek, taking the advantage to clean his tears with your fingers. You know everything that he thinks about you, but these words just make it real. For a second, you thought you were dreaming. That the wedding was a dream and that you would wake up before kissing him again. But there you are, stunning and making your future husband running out of air with a charming smile.

“I couldn't ask for a better way to spend my life, than doing it by your side, Jackson. You are the most intelligent and courageous man I have ever met. Your sense of… keeping close your family, your brothers, your friends… That's what makes the difference. You put their welfare before your own, and that makes you a good man. If your father would be here, he would be proud of who you are and of who you are becoming”. John always loved you like his own daughter, and he used to say that Jax and you would end up married. But you two always used to laugh about the idea, until three years ago when you got badly drunk. And a one-night-stand and an apparently big mistake, made real his prophecy. “Your father told me once that we were made for each other, destined to meet us, destined to protect each other, destined to respect each other. Destined to love each other. Your father was the wisest man I have ever met, even if I thought that he was wrong. And I can't wait to start calling you ‘my husband, ‘my family’ for the rest of my life”.

I'm thinking, baby, you are bringing out a different kind of me. There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free fallin' all in. You fell for men who weren't how they appear. Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free, fallin' all in you.

It's supposed that you should put the golden ring in each other's finger, but Chibs is crying so deep that he can't even say a single word, making the guests laugh when Bobby pushes him out of the altar.

“Fucking scottish… Or you're drunk, or you're crying”. He mumbles rolling his eyes, before grabbing the wedding rings from Opie's hands.

“I saw him once crying and drinking”. Jackson chuckles, infecting your families there.

“Here we go, brother”. Opie narrows his shoulders, before placing himself with the groomsmen behind him.

“I, Jackson Nathaniel Teller, take you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part”. Putting in your shaky finger the ring, with his oceanic eyes on yours, you're trying to contain the tears you have been hiding since you woke up on your shared bed.

“I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you, Jackson Nathaniel Teller, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part”. You can't help but laugh softly when you notice that he's more nervous than you, holding his hand to put in the wedding ring.

“Aye, ye can kiss yer wife, kid”. Kicking out Bobby's ass, Chibs appears again cleaning his tears. “I haven' been five month practicing ti not say these words”.

Fallin' all in you.

You can assure that his lips are softer than never, with your fingers tangled with his, kissing him under the cheerings of everyone around you two. Jax can't help but hug you. Tightly, dearly.

“I will always love you”. He mutters with a broken voice, intertwining your fingers in his scalp to push him closer.

“Not even death will set us part, Jax”.

✨ Tag list:

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If you want to be tagged, send me a message!

[hpinspiredby]

HP Inspired By Reveals!

Reveals are here! We’re so excited to share who wrote and created all our wonderful fics and art. 

To all our brilliant creators - thank you for your hard work, your creations are truly fantastic. Thank you for making this fest so brilliant. We’ve also sent you an email with some further information about the reveals process. 

Thank you to everyone who followed along with the fest and read, reblogged, liked, left kudos and comments - we know the fest participants appreciate them so much. It’s not too late to check out any creations you haven’t seen yet! 

Thank you for making this fest such a wonderful experience, and we hope to be back again next year. 

Your mods,  @candybarrnerd, @malenkayacherepakha, @shealwaysreads

Full reveals under the read more

Draco/Harry

A Pleasant View | Draco/Harry | 1k | E By Articcat621 | @articcat621

Draco can’t resist watching Harry in the shower, nor can he resist joining him.

Blow-By-Blow | Draco/Harry | 6.4k | E By P1013 | @p1013

Harry rolls his shoulders again, then reaches for the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. The Aurors around him take a step back, and his side of the room falls quiet as he steps forward.

“Malfoy,” he shouts, drawing the blond’s attention from his friends to Harry. “You’re here for a fight, yeah?”

Malfoy gives Harry another contemptuous once-over. “I’ve yet to find one.”

“My apologies. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Dress To Impress | Draco/Harry | Art | E By ZandraGorin | @zandragorin

Harry has finally come to appreciate (look forward to) dressing up. It’s all Draco’s fault, really.

Hands of Forever, touch me | Draco/Harry | 3.2k | E By HogwartsToAlexandria | @hogwartstoalexandria

If either of them cared to be honest about this, they’d probably see how much of a long time coming them finding each other this way is. Neither Draco nor Harry were ever particularly good at introspection though, much less at communicating in such subjects as that of attraction, and feelings. So this way it is, and that’s ok.

"You want a tour or are you going to get your hands on me, Potter?”

Kiss me in the doorway | Draco/Harry | 7.7k | E By Primaveracerezos | @primavera-cerezos

“At Draco’s trial, Potter testified that Draco had acted only in fear of his life, for his parents’ lives. When the Wizengamot announced his pardon, hundreds of eyes were on him, but he only felt one gaze. He found Potter’s green eyes in the crowd, where he was insulated by layers of loyal friends. The expression on Potter’s face was painfully open, studying, curious. Draco returned it. He had questions too.”

Needs in the Darkness | Draco/Harry | 2k | E By Keyflight790 | @keyflight790

If he needed, Harry knew he could go to his Master and ask. He’d be rewarded, most of the time.

Ocean Eyes | Draco/Harry | 7.2k | T By Shealwaysreads | @shealwaysreads

Pale skin. Grey eyes. Sleek hair.

Some things are a constant in Harry’s life, and Malfoy is one of them. Until he isn’t—not the way he acts, and not the way he looks.

It might take Harry a little while to get used to it, but eventually he decides that change can be good, too.

push and pull you down | Draco/Harry | 5.2k | E By M0stlyVoid | @bonesliketambourines

Harry’s resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He’s not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

Reconciliation | Draco/Harry | Art | G By PinkElephant42 | @pinkelephant43

Harry and Draco meet in the dark corner of the library.

Reflections in Moonlight | Draco/Harry | 4.5k | T By Static_Abyss | @static-abyss

A walk in the Forbidden Forest brings forth old regrets about Harry’s parents, about his future, and inevitably, about his past relationship with Draco. On a cold winter night under the moonlight, Harry learns he can find absolution in the unlikeliest of places.

Say My Name | Draco/Harry | 1k | M By HogwartsToAlexandria | @hogwartstoalexandria

Draco could get used to the kind of quiet that comes with having a sleeping Harry Potter in his bed while he sips his morning tea.

Scribbled Confessions | Draco/Harry | 9.2k | G By MotherBooker | @motherbookerao3

Draco finds a diary and discovers that the latest entries are all about him.

The Subtle Art of Arse Eating; or How Draco Learned to Be Open With His Desires and Had Mind-Blowing Sex | Draco/Harry | 4.1k | E By Adavision | @aedwritesfic

Talking about one’s fantasies is so much easier in the dark. With Harry’s gentle prompting, Draco is able to ask for what he wants in the bedroom and is ecstatic when Harry teaches him about the pleasures of rimming.

When you look like that | Draco/Harry | Art | G By Whileatwiltshire | @legendrarry

Alternate Universe where there are no dark lords and no sudden deaths lurking in the corner. But there is still a very blond looking Malfoy prancing about, and when he looks like that, Harry just can’t handle it.

Or,

It’s fourth year and Draco has just received his tailor made outfit for the yuleball.

Sirius/Remus and Sirius/Remus/James

Married Young | Sirius/Remus | 1.2k | G By Bluefay | @thesleepiesthufflepuff

Remus wakes up to a sweet surprise.

Signs of Affection | Sirius/Remus | 8.2k | G By KittyCargo | @kittycargo

“Hello, everyone! My name is-” the professor did something quick with his fingers and the interpreter paused for just a moment before continuing, “-Remus Lupin. I’ll be your teacher for ASL I.“

When Sirius learns that he’ll have a Deaf student in his class next year, he takes an ASL I summer course at his local community college. He didn’t expect the professor to be so attractive though.

Uncharted Slopes | Sirius/Remus, Sirius/Remus/James | 8k | E By Kattlupin | @kattlupin

After spending a week conquering the slopes of the Swiss Alps, boyfriends Sirius Black and Remus Lupin decide to engage in a different sort of adventure on the last day with the help of James Potter.

Draco/Hermione

Carved into the Stars | Hermione/Draco | 5.2k | T By Kiwipon | @donkiwi

In a world where the Golden Trio never existed, Draco Malfoy decides to be the change.

Enough for a Second Chance | Hermione/Draco | 5.2k | T By LadyKenz347 | @ladykenz347

Hermione finds peace in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest and with a Unicorn who seems as lost as she is.

Rare Pairs

Alice Asked For Spicy | Lily Luna Potter/Alice Longbottom II | 1k | M By Motherofmercury | @motherofmercury

Lily Luna Potter eyed the bra on the mannequin thoughtfully.  Just a few days ago, Alice had been saying they should try spicing up their sex life a little.  Lily tended to agree.  She thought of herself as rather a spicy person, but lately sex had been a little bit… tame.  Alice had even gone to her twin, Augusta, for sex advice, and Lily knew for sure that that girl was a deviant.  She could only thank Merlin Alice had left Uncle Nev out of it.

Lily Luna gets some new underwear and wears it to a family dinner in an attempt to fluster Alice.

every touch unravels | Harry/Charlie | 1.8k | E By Gracerene | @gracerene09

Harry’s got a surprise for Charlie.

Luxury | Narcissa/Lily | 2.1k | E By Houseofmalfoy | @malfoy

Narcissa Black had always enjoyed luxury.

Smoke Surrounds Your Perfect Face and I’m Falling | Narcissa/Bill | 3.4k | E By meditationsinemergencies | @meditationsinemergencies

In an arranged marriage with Lucius, Narcissa finds herself miserable, until she’s given a special gift.

The Third Date | Hermione/Pansy | 2k | E By Bluefay | @thesleepiesthufflepuff

For their third date, Hermione was expecting a lovely dinner out. Pansy, on the other hand, had different plans.

[redemptionbaby]

The Altar is Calling| Arthur/Reader | pt.2

notes: you guys I think will get mad at me for this one lmao

word count:2569

summary: you and Arthur celebrate on your wedding night

“So, tell me about this would-be fiancé of yers, sugar,” Arthur said, his tone between playful and growling. You walked side by side in the autumnal forest on the way back to your house, hand in hand, and he swung your connected arms back and forth in amusement. He was clearly slowing himself down so you could keep pace with his longer strides. He had offered to summon forth some nightmarish steed for you both to ride, but you declined. 

Strange as you were, you were uninterested in theatrics of that caliber. 

“He’s. Uh, male. And has a face and some hair.” Arthur scoffed out a quick laugh. 

“Ain’t nothin special, I’m guessin’? Or are you just tryna spare an old devil’s feelings?” Better yet, are you tryin’ to protect this sonuvabitch from me? “That’s awful sweet of you, buttercup, but I promise you I’ve heard worse.” Your face is unreadable, which is equal parts intriguing, irritating, and nerve wracking for Arthur. Really, you’re just paying attention to the leaves that crunch beneath your heels. You make it a game to try and step on the ones that look the crunchiest. You’re very good at it. Having to think of conversation to make, or recalling any of the identifying characteristics of your fiancé, is making you worse. Arthur, who is easily at least seven feet of demon beef, leans down to be at your eye level. 

“Or maybe… you love him?” Arthur asks, eagerly awaiting the answer which could destroy him. Crush his blackened heart, shatter his damned soul like a crystal chandelier suspended by a rope in the crossfire of a heated sword fight. You stop walking and twitch your nose bizarrely. 

“Chu!” You sneeze, rubbing your nose with a sleeve, still sniffling. Arthur pauses awkwardly, unable to say ‘bless you’.

“No, nothing like that. He’s nice enough I guess, but not at all interesting, you understand. I’m sure marriage to him would have been almost infuriatingly tolerable.” Arthur has only known you for a few hours, but he can already see why someone completely ordinary would bore you to tears. This relaxes him somewhat, because he isn’t boring... Is he?

A question begins to bud on the tip of your tongue when your house comes into view at last. Arthur slides his hand beneath your chin and tips your head up, his eyes roaming over your features in adoration as his sighs. This kiss he plants on your lips is soft, gentle, and almost overwhelmingly warm. Like the tender underbelly of some great beast, the kiss implies near fatal vulnerability just beneath the surface. So of course you kiss back. He parts from you with a smile behind his eyes, and calls to you in a low whisper. You’ve never heard your name spoken so kindly. 

“Prepare yourself, sweet thing. I’ll be back come midnight to collect you for our wedding night.”

—————

Rehearsal was boring, but you were distracted, much to the displeasure of your parents and the staff. What did Arthur mean? Did he just want to hit it and quit it, or was this like, it? Were you going to pack your bags and move to hell? Not the most unappealing idea, given the current circumstances, you just would like to be more well informed. 

Your rehearsal is concluded with a lot of aggravated sighing from everyone but your fiancé, who has his patient gaze affixed to you still. Despite everything, he kisses your hand innocently and bids you goodnight. You almost felt bad about being unfaithful to him, but was there really any faithfulness to begin with, when you didn’t feel much of anything for him? His parents would just find another girl anyways, one probably much more sensible and agreeable and normal. 

After dinner and a hot bath, you retire to your room and change into your nightgown, which you’ve never really considered sexy, but you were on rather short notice and you weren’t sure what exactly to be preparing for. You aren’t really sure why you’re even thinking of this, as if what happened today wasn’t just a delusion of your hopeful romantic mind. Wouldn’t it be nice, though?

Being all warm from the bath, and your stomach full from dinner, you can feel yourself getting sleepy, and the clock is still a ways from midnight. Maybe if you sleep, you’ll dream of Arthur. Then again, when you wake up, maybe you won’t remember any of it. 

————

A clawed finger traces over your cheek lightly, trailing down to toy with the modest collar of your nightgown and the little ribbon bow that adorns it. You really are such a darling thing. Innocent, sweet. Everything Arthur couldn’t be. Everything he’d been told he could never have. 

Your eyes begin to open, and your gaze followed up the demon’s arm and shoulder, until your eyes meet his. His eyes are predatory and dark, but only as a thin veneer over his fears of absolute rejection. You were bound to him now, yes, but you weren’t mind controlled. He wouldn’t do a thing like that, no matter how lonely he got. 

“When did you get here? In my room, that is.” You grasped his hand gently and brought it back up to your cheek. It was super toasty and nice. Arthur reveled in the contact and the pleased look on your face. 

“This ain’t yer room, sweetness. We’re in my domain. Jus’ made it look like yer room so you’d feel comfortable,” he uttered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it, in case you’d be mad. Upon closer inspection, the rosary that was kept hung next to your door was absent. It made sense that he wouldn’t recreate that detail. 

“Is this my home now, too?” You asked. 

“Only if you want it to be. I could return you to the world above if you wanted, too,” he sighed. “But you’d never be free of me. Not forever.” You rub your thumb thoughtfully, patiently along the underside of Arthur’s wrist as you childishly cling to his arm. He can’t tell if your comfort is out of affection, pity, or something else. But he knows what he wants for it to be. 

The demon sits down on the bed, seemingly bigger than your bed at home, and you sit up to be level with him. Your nightgown is caught beneath you, pulling some of the fabric taut and flush against the swell of your breasts. Unintentional or not, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

You look up and see a sudden intensity in Arthur’s eyes, accompanied by an otherworldly glow. You felt compelled to ask your unsaid question from earlier. 

“Why was your altar in the woods, waiting for someone like me?” He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, as if attempting to summon emotional strength. He wants this to work. He wants you to know all of him, and for him to know all of you. And this is as good a start as any. 

A long time ago, I was in love with a human woman, and she was in love with me, or so I like to believe. Despite how different we were, and the worlds we came from, we were in love. So we chose our favorite spot in the woods for a little ceremony, a ritual that would tie us together forever. I said my vows, but when it came to be her turn she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. I should have seen it coming from miles away, but I ignored the signs. I just wanted to be happy with someone. 

She knew that I would not and could not join her in the mortal realm and give her the life she wanted. She said that it didn’t bother her, that she still loved me, but I don’t think it ever stopped weighing on her mind. She left me at that altar. Donned a silver rosary so that any contact I tried to make would burn me. I still have the scars from trying. In the end, she decided we were too different after all.

Arthur waited for something. Pity, disgust, admonishment, anything. But all he felt was the gentle and smooth flesh of your hand, almost cool against his warm skin, cupping his cheek and going up to tangle in his hair and stroke one of your thumbs over his blackened horns. How you knew that would comfort him was a mystery. 

————-

Your scent engulfs him as he buries his face into your hair, you smell wet and wild and woodsy, like spices and potpourri alongside the scent of a rotted log turned over, one with an entire ecosystem of newts and worms and beetles subsisting on fresh, rich soil. You smell of the death that sustains life, and it endears you to the demon all the more. In you he finds the sense of love impending— of a love that hasn’t yet bloomed, but even so he can imagine it clearly. It’s intoxicating and tear-jerking. 

He looks at you with softness undefined when he asks:

“This—what’s between us. Do you feel it too?” His skin burns pleasantly beneath your palms. “I feel it— I feel it so goddamn much I could die!” He doesn’t have to explain what he means. It’s an all encompassing and infinite fire between you two. One that burns with potential and promise, like your life to this point has been waiting, and your real life has just begun. Though it may be dangerous, you can’t refuse it. 

“I feel it, Arthur. I do.” The way you utter his name like you’re coming off of a high note, like it’s been practiced in your head, shoots straight to his loins. There’s a growing urgency in your voice, and he feels his body screaming for him to respond to your needs, regardless of whether or not you know of them. The adoration in his eyes betrays the depravity he feels. 

His hands are large, warm, and calloused. They cup your cheeks as Arthur leans his entire body into you and kisses you like he’s trying to devour you. His hands trail down to the swell of your throat, the curve of your waist, the meat of your thighs, where he grips and pulls you into his lap unapologetically. Your quiet and restrained mewls are going to be the death of him. He grits out your name. 

“Baby. Angel. Tell me you want this. Tell me that and I’ll be yours.”

“Arthur, I want this. I want you.” The moment you finish he pushes his mouth against yours so hard you can almost hear your teeth click together. His mouth is raw on yours, with animalistic amounts of teeth and tongue, with passion. You feel a few hot, wayward tears against your cheeks, and you know you’re not the one crying.

The demon parts, looking at you for approval as he places his hands at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up over your head when you nod. Your underthings are not removed with the same grace, as they’re sliced apart by the delicate work of his claws. There’s a ravenous fury in him, but he pauses to appreciate every curve and mark and pocket of fat on your innocent body, nervousness radiates off of you in waves while you tremble under the heavy weight of his gaze, clearly trying to stay brave and keep your eyes on him.

“You ever been intimate with a man before, darlin’?”

“No. I’ve only ever been kissed--”

“By who?” He blurts out, unable to contain his budding jealousy.

“Just friends. Playmates when I was young, but I fear I know just about as much now as I did then,” you trail off, averting your eyes as you submit to embarrassment. Arthur’s fingers delicately cup your chin and guide your gaze back to him.

“A virgin bride, then, how cute,” he croons, a gleam of something sadistic in his eye, but gone in an instant. “I’ll take care o’ you, promise. You’ll never know pain from me unless you wish for it.” He presses his forehead to yours, gently.

“My wife. My beautiful, sweet, strange little wife…”

The word strange had never sounded so lovely to you. It had, for as long as you could remember, made you unmarriageable and discomforting to others of your class. It was something that people called you behind your back with quieted giggles.

But coming from Arthur, it made you feel special. Like it was something wonderful no one else could have.

Your awareness returns when one of his hands finds the curve of your breast, toying with one of your nipples while he gently bites and sucks the other. His hand travels further, reaching your ass and grabbing, pulling you even closer-- right up against the bulge under the simple cloth he wears. You get your first taste of delicious friction as he begins rutting against you fervently. He thumbs your clit while he latches onto your throat, smiling at every choked moan and breath you release at the new sensation.

You soon find yourself laid gently on your back, the curtains of the canopy on “your” bed closing, much of the light going with it, but Arthur's eyes and patches of his warmest skin, like his palms and across his nose, have a faint light about them, as well as beneath the cracks of his horns.

______________

Arthur grips your thighs and guides you to wrap your legs around him as he leans forward and over you. There’s an intensity behind his eyes that’s frightening, and yet you can’t look away. His hand comes back to your cheek, and everything stops.

“What do you want?” you’re not sure what he means. The way he says it makes it seem so much deeper than just permission for sex. Tears form at his eyes once more, and they drip onto your cheeks.

“I’ll be anything for you. Just say what you want, and that’s what I’ll be.” 

An idea strikes you. A thought that made your eyes widen enough for Arthur to pause and worry. Your palm comes up to his cheek and you can feel his hot tears run down your arm. The mortification— the scathing and paralyzing fear of rejection has the demon choking down a sob. That rejection seems imminent and inevitable, with the pitiful display he thinks he’s cultivated. Who would want this? A broken down hell creature, battered and torn away from all that is strong and all that is beautiful. You would never—

“You don’t have to be ready for this. I will still have you. I will still want to be here. Relationships aren’t based in the realization of fantasy—,” you move your hands down his body to his waist, where you gently guide him from atop you to lay on his side, face to face with you. 

“This is not a play, you have no part to fulfill. You don’t have to be anyone or anything but you.”

He hates for you to see him this way, but he would feel even more pitiable and ashamed turning away from you. You scooch closer, wrapping your arms around him and pressing light kisses to his face. 

Sobs turn to full on wails, and yet you don’t let him out of your loving hold. 

[qatirna-can-read]

Tsagaan Sar - Q

Khadagan chopped feverishly at a head of garlic. A young Qatirna - still too small to look up and see the tears painting her mother’s cheeks - toddled up to the woman, gripping at the fabrics of her skirts for balance. 

“Mama! <What cooking?!>” the child shouted excitedly in a broken Eorzean Xaelic tongue. She nuzzled her face into the layered fabrics and giggled.

Khadagan set the knife down on the cutting board and used the back of her clawed hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes. She looked down at her daughter and smiled an earnest but sad smile. Before picking the affectionate child up and balancing her on her hip so she could use a free hand to stir a pot simmering on the stove.

She looked so much like her father. Little freckles dancing across her nose just the way Batu’s did. Her strange purple eyes that appeared to shine differently depending on her mood. Even the child’s tail, long and slender and tipped with spines, mirrored that of her late progenitor. 

Khadagan kissed her daughter’s nose, just below her scales, right on her warm purple freckles atop her soft hematite soil skin. “Mama is making feast of Tsagaan Sar.” She gave a gentle smile, “In Mama’s homeland this is very important time.” 

She placed the child back on the ground, “You want to help Mama?”

Qatirna looked up at her mother with a broad confused smile and nodded enthusiastically.

“<Will you help me mix this, please?>” Khadagan handed a small wooden bowl to a tiny outstretched clawed grasp. With the bowl in Qatirna’s hands, Khadagan picked her up once more to set her down at a table nearby. She handed over a small wooden spoon then began pouring dry ingredients into the bowl as the little girl mixed with delight.

“<Thank you, my sweet desert rose.>” Khadagan kissed the dark hair on her daughter’s head and beamed at the display in joy and amusement as the two prepared for the feast together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatirna playfully kneaded the dumpling dough as her mother fussed over the fillings she had simmering in several pots over a single fire. She still required a stool to reach over the counter, and even standing a fulm higher from the ground, she still only came midway up her mother’s arm. 

“Mama, done!” she shouted proudly.

Khadagan looked at the little girl with a bemused smile, coming over to help her child. “<Let Mama show you.>”

Qatirna stared at her mother with a serious expression, nodding her head to indicate her readiness to learn. 

Her mother brought over a dull stone knife, placing it on the counter between them. She showed her daughter how to roll out the dough. "<Like this, Little Flame. Make it like a snake.>" 

Qatirna rolled the dough, more playing than working, but learning all the same. 

"<Please be cautious not to cook the dough.>" Her mother added. 

"<Okay Mama. I careful.>" Qatirna had recently come into her magic and still struggled to not catch her hands on fire when she got excited. “<Mama?>” she paused her rolling to ask, “<Is friends come to Tsagaan Sar?>”

"<I invited everyone we know from Little Ala Mhigo. Including Petra.>" she answered softy with a grin.

The child blushed, burying her embarrassed face melodramatically in her folded arms. Petra was Qatirna’s best friend. She was Qatirna’s first friend. Kind, funny, adventurous. Qatirna also thought she was really pretty, and her mother knew that and found it adorable. 

"<Mamaaa!>" she whined at her mother's teasing. 

Khadagan tousled the little girl's hair before moving to show her how to cut off the pieces of dough and pull them out flat. "<Like this, little one.>" and she cut off a piece of dough for her daughter to practice with as well. 

"<Like this, Mama?>" Qatirna pulled the dough flat, although the shape she made was somewhat laughable. 

Khadagan giggled at the child, "<You're getting it. Now let's practice folding. Watch carefully.>" she neatly took the edges of her own flattened dough and tucked them into the center, twirling the whole thing at the end to create a shape reminiscent of flower petals. 

Qatirna stared in awe before attempting to do as her mother did. She folded everything into the middle, creating an oddly shaped cone. "<What do you think?>" She scooped up the cone dough with both hands before holding it out to her mother for inspection. 

The older Xaela looked at her daughter's practice folds with great scrutiny, her brow furrowed in a serious expression. "<hmm… yes! This is perfect. You keep practicing and you will be Khatun of Tsagaan Sar!>" She beamed brightly at her daughter before booping her nose with a flour covered finger. They both stared at each other for a moment before breaking into laughter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two red Xaela women weaved expertly through the crowds of the farmer's market. Both dressed in colorful wrapped sarongs. The one in browns and reds looked only just of age. Young and pretty, long flowing onyx hair with red undertones matched her onyx scales sitting atop red clay skin. Her eyes burned bright with a unique violet hue and her full clover lips grinned at the older and taller Xaela adorned with gentle blues. "<I want to try some new herbs and vegetables this year. I have extra coin from my work with Clan Centurio.>"

The Xaela in blue, despite being twice the age of the Xaela in red, was still just as beautiful as her daughter. She wore her silver peppered black hair held back with a scarf. Her own onyx scales protected her deep red skin, even darker than the crimson of her daughter's. 

"<I have given you the list of things I need. Anything after that is entirely up to you, Little Flame.>" She smiled back, her canines notably sharper than Qatirna’s. 

Qatirna shrugged in amusement at her, moving to examine a nearby stand. “<I think we can use some Ala Mhigan spices in the barbecue pork for the buuz this year.> Petra has been showing me some of her family recipes lately.”

“<Hmm..>” Khadagan took her place by her daughter’s side, leaning down to sniff the orange bag of spice Qatirna had her eye on. “<I can see what you mean. This might add a nice flavor... Have you two been discussing marriage?>”

“<Mama! What? No!>”

“<By the time your father was your age he was already wed.>” she said matter-of-factly.

“<I think it is different when it is an arranged marriage to your horse, Mama.>” she responded in a restrained hiss. 

The man tending the stand stared blankly at the two women speaking in the unfamiliar language. “Did you ladies want to purchase any spices?” He asked, indifferent to their squabbles.

“Yes, please! I would like… a small container of that, and a medium container of that one.” Qatirna pointed to the orange powder, then a yellow powder, before she began digging through her satchel for the gil to pay. Her cheeks had turned a substantially darker red than usual.

"<Qatirna! You should show respect for your father's culture!>" Khadagan pestered, now standing behind her daughter, a good 5 or 6 ilms taller.

Qatirna winced at her public scolding. Despite the fact that no one in the market could understand the two, anyone could see the basic theme of their conversation. 

"<I do, Mama.>" Qatirna replied as she turned away from the stand, gently tucking the spices into a side pocket of her satchel. "<I mean. Yes, Mama. I just don't think my relationship with Petra is comparable to Father's relationship to Koko.>" she sighed. "<Does everyone know that I invite Kazagg Chah? He is very important mentor to me and I do not wish for discomfort between guests.>"

"<Yes, my desert rose. I've told the other guests. They know of your friendship with the beast tribes and no one should make a fuss.>" she placed a reassuring hand on her daughter's arm and gave a gentle squeeze. "<We can speak more of Petra at another time.> Now where is pork farmer?"

Khadagan wandered off towards the meats section of the market with Qatirna following close behind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatirna stirred awake from a restless sleep. Her body felt heavy, like weights had woven their way up and down her arms and legs in the night. With a great deal of effort, she pushed herself up and out of bed. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to forget the empty silence in her home. She moved across her room and down the stairs of her loft, graceful yet absentminded. The only thing keeping her mind connected to this time and place was the feel of the cold hard ground beneath her feet. This morning seemed stiller than most, or perhaps the quiet hit harder today in particular. 

She placed the kettle on the burner, lighting the fire below with a flame conjured in her palm, same as she did most mornings. She closed her eyes, taking a deep strangled breath, before making her way to the ice box to pull out some pork she planned to marinate. She still hadn't decided if she wanted to use the traditional spices her mother taught her as a child or if she wanted to use the spice mixture she'd created with her late mother and ex fiancé. 

While she rummaged through her spice cabinet she began to hum. An old Auri lullaby, taught to her by her mother. Her father sang it to her during their brief time together before his death, or so she'd been told. Sometimes the tune brought her comfort, today it stung her with a sick longing. Despite this, she continued to sing. 

She busied herself, trying to keep her mind free, trying to keep any pesky thoughts of tragedy and loss at bay. The new recipe, she thought, to honor all those we lost.

Her mind was still until she began pouring the spices into a small mixing bowl. A memory trickled to the forefront of her thoughts: her mother asking her toddler self for 'help' mixing dry ingredients. A sad smile spread across her lips. She gripped the counter's edge, claws drumming the tabletop as she attempted to hold off any further thoughts of her past. 

The trickle of that memory pushed past her efforts to repair the dam of hindsight. It crumbled and burst. Memories flooded back as waves of grief crashed over her. Suddenly she was drowning within herself. 

A soft sob escaped her throat. She felt the familiar sting of tears welling in her eyes. Her head spun in a storm of everything that was, everything that could have been, everything she should have done. Teenage arguments with her mother, a first kiss, snacks lovingly prepared and placed near her while she studied, laughing at inside jokes, singing traditional songs in various languages, making a fire on cold nights, soup made for the sick. She crumpled. Falling to the floor like a warrior taking an arrow in the heart. A whimper on the floor of her kitchen became a sob became an agonizing wail. She clawed desperately at the floor, although her hands found no purchase. Even though she was hyperventilating she couldn’t fill her lungs with a full breath of air. 

She had no control here in the tempest. She held fiercely to her sorrow, the only feeling she could cling to for any measure of stability, as she slowly pulled herself tighter, smaller, into herself. 

The sharply whistling kettle cut through the screams of her weeping. She looked up through puffy eyes, glowing a vibrant indigo. She stopped her sobs, coughing at the thick film that coated her throat, before pulling herself back up to remove the kettle from the burner. She laughed at the kettle for pulling her out of hysteria, although the sound choked out as a half chuckle half sob. 

She shook her head, letting out a deep sigh, climbing up the counter to reach the tea on the top shelf. Her mother had been several ilms taller than her, and aside from lalafells, they were the two shortest people she’d ever known. She placed the tea on the counter gingerly before hopping back down. A clay mug sat on a cabinet nearby, she pulled that down as well. It looked like a tankard in her small hands. After pouring the water and leaves she held the steam up to her face, allowing it to soothe her skin, tender from crying.

This would have to be enough. She had no other options than for this to be enough. She breathed in a rough quivered breath before reaching just below where she’d grabbed her mug. Pulling a strong spiced spirit from the bottom shelf, she took a swig several gulps worth. She closed her eyes, allowing the burn to roll through her, numbing some of that pain in her chest.

She could go on. Once again she turned her attention back to the feast she prepared for one. Utterly alone. 

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Wedding Colors (Part 3)

(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)

13:00—lunch. For the first time since the ominous day in July that she’d descended into the gloom of 13, Effie’s belly was full. As weeks had turned into months, she hadn’t felt hunger. She’d picked at meals and pushed unpalatable food around her tray. But now something was different. Flint scraped over steel inside her like the wind across her cheeks that morning. Her spoon repeatedly clinked the bottom of the bowl of squash soup. It took every ounce of restraint to not bring the whole bowl to her mouth and tilt it upward to collect the last drops.

Keenly observant, Cressida noted, “That’s new.”

“What?”

“You finishing a meal here.” She dropped her voice. “Are you pregnant, Trinket?”

Effie’s face flushed scarlet, blushing through burnt cheeks. “Bite your tongue!” she snapped.

Cressida glanced at Pollux, and Effie recognized her own faux pas. “Please excuse me. I wasn’t thinking about...”

Interacting with an Avox who was a regular citizen rather than a servant of the Capitol was still a new experience for her.

Pollux signed, “No problem,” and his brother offered the translation.

Effie returned her attention to the inquisitive filmmaker. “I’m JUST hungry. Must a woman be pregnant in order to finish a bowl of soup?” She whispered “pregnant” as if saying it too loudly might invite the situation. Or just as worrisome, Haymitch could walk in at that moment, hear the word, flip out, and not touch her again. Now that she’d opened the Pandora’s box of sex with him, she didn’t want to put a lid back on it.

“Okay. I get it.” Cressida was intrigued by Effie’s blush, but otherwise mollified. “You like the soup. End of story.”

It was golden orange in color and lightly flavored with spices that tasted like autumn. Ginger was recognizable, but the others were a mystery to Effie. Her experience with cooking was mostly limited to a course she’d taken a decade and a half prior at Charis School of Grace, Beauty, and Charm.

Her mother had insisted on “Finishing School” for Effie after she graduated from the Academy. The summer classes had been a compromise, since her father was resolute in his intention to send her to University. He’d even dipped into his personal inheritance to pay extra tuition when her test scores didn’t qualify her outright for admission.

“Charis will focus Euphemia on the most sophisticated etiquette and deportment, preparing her for marriage into greater wealth,” her mother argued.

“University will prepare Effie for a practical career suited to her strongest skills,” her father contended.

“Grace, beauty, and charm ARE her strongest skills. Face it, dear. Like you, our daughter lacks the talent to be a Gamemaker.”

“She has the talent to be more than a rich man’s wife.”

“If I were the wife of a RICH man, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”

Their barbs stung each other. After years of practice, the Trinkets knew just where to aim them. They agreed that Effie needed a path which would secure an optimal future for the family. Neither of them asked her what she wanted.

If they’d asked back then, she would have had one specific answer. And if she was honest with herself now, her deepest desire was exactly the same. If she’d voiced it then, her parents would have sent her to the Asylum first before anything else. So she said nothing about it.

By 18, she’d become a master at the art of knowing when to hold her tongue. She’d internalized the pressure to please her parents and reflect positively on her family’s name and station in society. The burden of doing so was a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Effie’s shoulders ached too from the physical work of gathering and carrying around large sacks of perfect leaves. She daydreamed about a bath full of bubbles followed by a nap on a real bed. Allowing the fantasy was a mistake because then her body screamed for it.

She wondered if even babies were allowed to nap here, or did they get merely a half hour of “reflection” before dinner like everyone else? Did they have daily schedules imprinted on their chubby little arms? Eat. Poop. Sleep. What else did the tiny things do? She’d never paid much attention to them in the Capitol. Had she ever seen a baby in 13? She couldn’t recall.

***

14:00—volunteering. The children would be out of school soon. Plutarch told her to expect them along with anyone who was between work shifts. Coin was allowing more flexibility than usual in order to encourage volunteerism. Effie considered the irony in the word spelled out on her arm in purple ink. Following schedules was mandatory. Once “volunteering” is tattooed on your body, doesn’t it cease to be voluntary?

That place made her head hurt if she thought about it too much. She pulled her rose-tinted sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on, hoping the change in light would temper some of the ache, and help her feel less vulnerable.

“Ready or not, here I go,” she said out loud.

She approached the kitchen staff for permission to use large plastic serving bowls to hold the leaves at the tables. The kitchen manager, a middle aged woman named Cuire, put up resistance, muttering something about needing authorization from the president.

Greasy Sae showed no qualms about interjecting. “Now, those leaves ain’t all that different from a salad. We’ll have the bowls washed again long before dinner service.”

The older woman, with her hair up in a kerchief more plain than Effie’s, carried a stack of serving bowls through the doorway without waiting for the manager’s consent. She returned to the kitchen for more until every serving bowl in 13 was in the dining hall. Cuire pursed her lips but said nothing.

Sae pulled a handful of leaves out of one of the canvas bags and dropped them into a bowl. “The list of procedures here’s a mile long. Sometimes the only way to keep these folks from sayin’ ‘no’ is to just not ask ‘em. And then work fast.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Effie joined her efforts to quickly transfer the leaves to the bowls. “Thank you, Sae.”

“Thank YOU, girl. Gatherin’ up all these to make pretty things for the weddin’, you must be exhausted.”

“I had help. From Haymitch.”

“Did you?”

“I had to ambush him.”

“Nah. As often as that boy looks at you, I’d guess he went willingly.”

Ambushed and willing. Yes, he was.

Beetee wheeled up to her with several spools of wire, wire cutters, rolls of electrical tape, and several pairs of scissors.

“The copper color is PERFECT!” Effie gushed.

“This wire is at least a hundred years old,” he replied with little emotion, “The only reason it shows no corrosion is because 13 is fastidious about its storage conditions, including adequate air circulation. The gauge is small. The electrical current from present technologies, would overload and overheat it. The wire is rather useless actually.”

“Well, we’ve found a use for it!”

“In the absence of copper tape, this seems the best match, which is ironic since brown is typically used for high voltages. And high voltages would burn right through this particular wire.”

“We’re just making garlands today, not blowing out an arena!”

“You’re speaking non-metaphorically, of course. We might hope the propo will play a role in shattering the Capitol’s grip on the restless minds of its citizens... That said, it isn’t my intention to imply that YOUR mind is gripped and restless.”

A gripped and restless mind sounded fairly accurate to Effie. “I doubt the Capitol views me as its citizen at this point.” I guess that makes me homeless, even though my family home, my apartment, my belongings, my entire history are all there.

Beetee noticed her smile fade. “You might be right about that. ...I’m sorry.”

After seeing what her victors had been through and what they were still going through, she felt uncomfortable being apologized to by a victor who she held in high regard. I don’t deserve an apology, though manners dictated the proper response to an apology was a gracious, “Thank you.”

“Will you be staying to help?” she added.

“I’m needed in Special Defense. Bring the leftover supplies when you come down later.”

“Beetee, thank you for this.”

The clock was ticking. Effie went to work immediately, arranging leaves in alternating colors and shapes and adhering the stems to a long length of wire.

“What a beautiful pattern!” A friendly voice spoke over Effie’s shoulder. She turned to see Delly Cartwright whose blonde hair fell free of its usual braid.

“An artisan! Delly, I’m grateful you’re here to help with production and quality control.”

From their occasional chats at mealtimes, Effie had learned that Delly’s parents had been shoemakers, and 13 put her to work in textile production as soon as she’d turned 18.

“Me? An artisan?”

“You WILL be, dear. I’ve seen your stitching. I’ve also observed your congenial way with people.” Effie cut a long length of wire for Delly and set her up with supplies to work at another table. “Let’s spread around the talent.”

When school let out, Delly’s younger brother was the first to arrive, not wanting to go “home” to empty quarters. Posy Hawthorne followed close at his heels, skipping to keep up with his much longer legs.

“Stop followin’ me!” he told her.

“I’m not followin’ you. We’re just goin’ the same place, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re a baby, and I don’t want you sittin’ at MY table.”

“Cordwain!” Delly interjected, “That’s not polite!”

“I’m FIVE years old, and I’ll sit wherever I please, CordWAIN.” With three older brothers, Posy could hold her own in disagreements with just about anyone, especially boys. Effie admired that along with her manners.

“Aw, Dellyyyy,” her brother whined, “You’re supposed to call me Cord!”

“You apologize to Posy, and I won’t have to be so stern.”

“Do I HAVE to?! She’s just Vick’s little sister.”

“And you’re MY little brother, so, yes, you do. You know Ma and Pa would say so if—“

“Ma and Pa are dead!” Cord sat at the table with Delly and folded his arms across his chest.

Delly sighed, and her tone softened, “Cordy, honey, that’s all the more reason to apologize.”

His lip quivered, and he muttered in a hoarse voice. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry they died,” Posy empathized, “My daddy died b’fore I was born.”

She sat across from Effie and looked at her for a long fifteen seconds. Effie wasn’t used to children being so young. The girl’s dark hair fell long past her shoulders in two braids. Her gray eyes were deeply set. She had the look of a person who’d seen the shadow of death and kept going.

“I like your pink glasses.” Posy twirled one of her braids around her finger. “I used to have pink ribbons. Two of ‘em.”

“When I was your age, I wore pink ribbons in my hair. Pink was my favorite color.”

“Mine too! Gale says we can’t go back fer the ribbons. He says they’re gone. Do you think they’re gone?”

“Well... I...” For goodness sake. What does one say to a child whose district was fire bombed to rubble?

Cord muttered some more, “Of course they’re gone!”

Posy ignored him, waiting for Effie’s response.

“Your brother, Gale, is wise, dear.” Effie saw her expectant little face fall. “I am going to your district tomorrow. With Katniss. Would you like for me to look for the ribbons so you know for certain?”

Posy nodded.

“Then I’ll be sure to do that. In the meantime would you like to help make a garland? There aren’t any pink leaves, but there are other pretty colors.”

Posy reached into the bowl and pulled out a red one. “Can I do this one?”

“Of course. Let me show you.”

Effie demonstrated with a different leaf then watched Posy’s small fingers peel and cut the tape and use it to add her chosen leaf to the copper wire.

“How’s that?” the girl asked.

The tape was crooked. The leaf was crooked, and it didn’t fall in line with the pattern. Effie considered telling her so. Aemilia Trinket certainly would have. And for that reason if no other, Effie said to the five-year/old, “That’s wonderful, dear.”

Posy beamed. “You’re nice. You’re not scary at all! I’m gonna go tell Rory that he’s wrong.” She hopped out of the chair and skipped away, turning around long enough to say, “I’ll be back!”

Effie watched her go, not knowing quite what to think. Rory?... She couldn’t remember who that was. One of the Hawthorne boys?

“This year would have been Rory’s first reaping,” Delly explained.

Effie didn’t need to hear anything more in order to understand. The truth split her heart. Half of it dropped like lead into her stomach. The other half rose up into her throat, threatening to choke her.

The children are afraid of me.

Even without a reaping ball in front of me, they are still afraid.

In that moment, she didn’t have time or space to process the realization. She just sat there, forcing a smile, trying to keep the vacant feeling in her chest from showing on her face. As volunteers streamed into the dining hall, she swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed her palm to her stomach, and directed the project as planned.

More children arrived giggling and singing, 🎶”Come live with me and be my love...”🎶 It was the beginning of District 4’s wedding song, which they’d started learning in school. 🎶”...I'll take you out upon the sea...”🎶 drew them into conversation about how the ocean might look, feel, sound, smell, and taste. None of them had ever been to the seashore. They’d only seen it in books.

🎶”...To share the starry night with you...” 🎶 intrigued them too. Some of the children from 12 tried to describe the stars to the kids from 13 who had never been above ground at night. “A star is like the tip of the flame of a candle that never flickers.”... “They just pop out in the sky as it’s changing from blue to black.”... “My grandma says stars are ghosts that come to visit us at night. Good ghosts, not scary ones.”... “Ghosts ain’t real.”... “Are so!”... “Are not!”

Dozens of adults were there to cut wire and strips of tape for the younger children and to ensure the garlands turned out beautifully.

With so many helping hands, Effie had to let go of her precise plans. The work of other artisans became apparent as some patterns emerged which were even more pleasing than what Plutarch and Effie envisioned.

Boggs showed up, carrying his son on his hip. The boy seemed younger than Posy, though Effie was far from an expert about children under 12. Boggs sat at a table with the boy in his lap. The little one reached for the leaves just as Boggs’ communicuff started flashing wildly. “Damon, buddy, President Coin is calling. I’ve just lost my break time. I’m going to need to take you back to daycare, but maybe Miss Trinket will let you take one of the leaves with you?” Boggs gave Effie a pleading look. The last thing he needed just then was an upset kid.

Damon’s big brown eyes welled up with tears. He wiped them away with the backs of his hands which were filled with leaves that he didn’t want to let go. Since the epidemic, Boggs and his son had been on their own. Looking into those teary eyes, Effie couldn’t help but feel for them. The feeling seeped into that empty space in her chest, and eased a bit of the void.

“Your son can stay awhile, if you’d like. Then I can take him back to daycare.”

“Are you sure? He’s a handful, and you have a lot going on here.”

Seeing herself in the moment as “scary ghost” rather than a star, Effie definitely was NOT sure that she was the right person to be looking after a young child. “Of course, I’m sure,” she spoke through her smiling mask.

“What do you say, buddy? Do you want to stay with Miss Trinket and make a garland, or do you want me to take you back to daycare now?”

“It’s Effie. The only one who calls me Miss Trinket around here is Mr. Heavensbee.” She laughed.

Damon climbed down from Boggs’ lap and up into Effie’s. “Oh! Well, hello,” she said, pushing her chair back far enough to make room for him. He was heavier than he’d looked in the strong arms of his father. He squirmed around reaching for everything at once: more leaves of every shape and color, scissors...

Boggs’ eyes widened.

Effie handed Damon a roll of tape in trade for the scissors. “You can hold the tape, and I’LL do the cutting.”

‘Thank you,’ Boggs mouthed the words then told his son, “This is an important job, soldier. Effie is your commanding officer. Are you going to take this work seriously and mind what she tells you to do?”

“Yeth, thir, Daddy, thir!” His lisp melted Effie’s heart.

“At ease, little man. I’ll pick you up from daycare at 18:00.” Boggs kissed his son’s forehead, and Damon was already hard at work attempting to peel tape off the roll.

As Effie helped the boy put leaves on the wire, Posy returned, accompanied by one of her brothers who hurried to claim an open seat next to Cord. Posy skipped up to Effie and patted her head. “I got Vick to come, but Rory’s stubborn. YOU know how boys can be.”

Effie looked up from the table to see Haymitch leaning against a pillar near the edge of the dining hall. He was watching her closely. The expression on his face was a loaded mix of curiosity and seriousness.

“Yes, I do know how boys can be,” Effie agreed, “Especially when they are afraid.”

Haymitch had never seen Effie around little kids, and he was fascinated. The Hawthorne girl chattered on and on, tucking leaf stems into the top knot of Effie’s kerchief. Boggs’ kid was in Effie’s lap, crushing leaves with his hands and unwrapping tape for her to cut with scissors. A girl Haymitch didn’t recognize sat to the side, touching Effie’s bracelet. “Is this silver and gold?” the kid asked.

“This s costume jewelry,” Effie answered.

“What’s ‘costume’?” the girl wanted to know.

“A costume is... something you might wear when you are... pretending.”

The Hawthorne girl said to the other one, “You can wear one of my pink ribbons sometime, and we can pretend to be twins... if Effie finds my ribbons in 12 tomorrow.”

Effie locked eyes with Haymitch. “I promised I’d look, Posy, but please don’t get your hopes up, dear.”

He was trying to make sense of the situation. Effie’s going to 12 tomorrow? Why? And why is nobody telling me anything! Pissed off, he started to walk away.

“Excuse me, girls. Damon, let’s go talk to Haymitch for a few minutes.” Effie stood up, holding the boy on her hip as Boggs had done. “Haymitch! Wait...” She caught up to him before the staircase. If he’d really wanted to avoid her, he would have already been long gone.

“What are you thinking!?” he asked, unsure of what he was wondering about most... Why was Effie going to 12 where the burned corpses of his people were still rotting? Why didn’t she tell him about her plans? And what the hell was his heart doing as he watched her with those little kids?

“Annie needs help selecting one of Cinna’s dresses for the wedding, and Katniss asked if I could go with them for support. So, of course, I said yes. ...Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, sweetheart. But it’s bad there. You’re going to see things that’ll change you.”

“I’m already changing.” She boosted the kid up on her hip. “There’s nothing I can do to stop that. ...And I don’t think I want to stop it.”

Damon dropped the leaves and rubbed his eyes. “Are you tired... buddy?” Effie hesitantly used one of Boggs’ nicknames for the boy. He shook his head ‘no’, but rubbed his eyes again. “How about we take these leaves to daycare so you can show your daddy?”

Damon nodded and opened his hands to the floor where the leaves had fallen. Haymitch bent to pick them up and handed them back to the kid. He stood close to them. Effie smelled like the woods, faintly like ginger, and mostly like her. The fragrances helped him feel less agitated. They were familiar, as if less was changing all at once.

“Thank you,” she said about the leaves, “Will you please tell Delly where I’m going and ask her to stay until I return?”

“Sure”

She rested her palm on Haymitch’s shirt where his sweater gaped open. She brushed her fingertips along the buttons. “Will YOU stay until I return? I could really use your help hanging these garlands in Special Defense.”

Her touch felt too good for him to say no.

The peace in his expression was answer enough for her.

As he watched her walk away, a smile crept over his face. He was far too amused to remind Effie that the Hawthorne girl had embellished her head wrap with at least a dozen leaves. In all the years, it was the best *wig* he’d seen her wear. If she was going to roam around 13 looking like a tree, then who was he to stop her?

[rivetwrites]

rantaro amami with fluff alphabet?

//you got it!! also for the other anon who asked as well!!

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Rantaro Amami Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Rantaro is a very laidback guy, so he’d prefer to spend quiet time with you in your bedroom or living room. He’d let you lay on his chest with an arm around your shoulder has he talks about the adventures. His voice is so soothing, and he doesn’t mind talking his head off with you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He’s such a charmer. He’ll compliment you on every single little thing. Flaw and all. He admires how kind you are. A lot of people usually see him as a rich player, but you see him way more for that, which he appreciates dearly.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’s an expert on comforting you. He had to comfort his sisters a lot with breakups, homework, and more, so he’s the best to go to. He’d scoop you into his arms, carrying you to you room and onto your bed. Wrapping you in a soft blanket, he’d cuddle next to you and let you vent to him. Rantaro is an amazing listener, and even better at giving advice.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He pictures having a more modest life, rather than his rich, adventurous one he has now. He wants to start a family with you, have a few kids. He thrives to be a father and a husband, and you’re just perfect for him.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Rantaro is the dominant one. He loves taking care of you and leading the relationship. He wouldn’t complain if you wanted to take the reigns for awhile, but he wants you to be comfortable with him and take everything at an easy pace.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Fighting with Rantaro never lasts long. He’s very calm and collected to you, and never raises his voice. If he happens to upset you, he’ll apologize immediately, pulling you into a hug as he peppers your face in soft kisses. If you upset him, he would leave you alone for while, collecting his thoughts before going back to you to tell you how he felt. He’ll accept your apology immediately, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Rantaro loves you to death, since you treat him like a person, rather than a rich, play boy like everyone else who meets him does. He wants to spoil you, but whenever you tell him that you love him for him and not for his money, he’s putty to you. He buys you a nice necklace anyways, showing his own gratitude to you.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He doesn’t have many secrets, but even if he does, he tells you them. He trusts you a bunch to keep them. He doesn’t have a desire to keep some cutthroat secret from you. He’ll be the same for you, so he would keep your secrets to the grave.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You taught him that you don’t have to use money to be happy. He grew up with wealth, so it’s all he’s known. But as soon as you came along, he’s happier than he’s has been. Rantaro never used his money as often as his family did, but you loved him for him. He got a confidence boost as soon as he started dating you. You probably got a confidence boost as well, he compliments you every chance he gets, does your makeup for you, picks out your clothes whenever you need help. He just wants you to know that you’re beautiful inside and out.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Rantaro is an easygoing guy and he trusts you, so he rarely ever gets jealous. He gets slightly possessive, however. If someone ever flirted with you in front of him, his arm will loop around your waist, pulling you a bit closer as he introduces himself as your boyfriend. If you call him out on it, he’ll act like it never happened and just he was letting everyone else know that you’re off the market.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Kissing Rantaro is very laidback and the least anxiety inducing. Your first kiss with him would be after a small date, him leaning down to brush his lips against yours, a small blush on his cheeks. He gets unusually shy, complimenting the blush on your cheeks before pulling you in for another one.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He would be the first to confess to you. Bringing you out on a small walk in the fall, a growing blush on his cheeks as he says his confession. He knew that people thought of him as a player, but he knew you were different. When you accept, he’d have a big smile on his face, pulling you into a warm hug.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Absolutely. Marriage is a must for him, as he wants to settle down with the person he loves. He would propose to you after a small, romantic date night, pulling out a beautiful, expensive ring. The wedding isn’t extravagant, with his large family and friends, and your family and friends, it got pretty full. But he wanted to show everyone how much he loves you.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Doll,” “honey,” “babe/baby,” would be his usual. He rarely calls you by your actual name, but whenever he’s being serious with you, he would. He loves it when you return it as well. He gets a good chuckle from you calling him, “my pretty boy.”

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Rantaro is always in love with you, showering you in physical and vocal affection. He’d pull you to the couch and into his arms, pressing small kisses to your neck and jaw as he whispers how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

In public, he’s not afraid of affection. He always has an arm around your waist as he talks to his friends, pressing kisses to your temple. He doesn’t brag, though, he’s not much of a gloater about anything. He does talk about you a lot though, like a cute thing you did that day. You’re always on his mind.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s amazing at listening to you. He’d pull you to his chest as you’d talk about your day, his chin resting on your shoulder. He gives the best advice as he gives you solutions to your problems, or maybe how to make a situation slightly better.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s very cliché and romantic. He’d take you out on romantic dates, or take you outside to walk around in the evening. He doesn’t like driving, so he’d prefer to walk to your dates. Rantaro likes to get creative sometimes though, maybe taking you on a plane to a vacation as well. When he wants to go all out, he goes all out.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Your number one supporter!! He loves hearing about your goals in life, helping you reach them the best he can. Once you do, he lives for your smile on your face, which would be his own goal.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s not big on thrills, but he loves it when your relationship goes at its own pace. He rarely has a routine in his life, so he’d like for stuff to happen naturally. The biggest thrill would be him taking you to see the world.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Rantaro is very empathetic and understanding. He knows when you’re not feeling your best and he’ll offer to help you. If you want to be left alone, he will respect you and your space, but if you need his help, he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel better.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His family is always the most important thing in his life, which includes you. No amount of money could match up on how much you were worth to him.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Whenever you feel sick, he takes the entire day taking care of you. Making you soup, making sure you get enough sleep and fluids, snuggling you so you’re warm enough. In the end, he gets sick as well, so now it’ll be your turn to take care of him!

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Rantaro is a very touchy person, so he loves cuddling and kissing you whenever he gets the chance to. He loves being the big spoon while you two sleep, it makes him feel like he’s your protector.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He gets bored, since he doesn’t want to do anything super exciting without you. He doesn’t want you to miss it!! So he spends most of his time at home, reading or doing a puzzle. Once you return home, you don’t even have enough time to take off your jacket before he’s carrying you back to your bedroom to snuggle.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He goes beyond in your relationship. He treats you like his lifeline, trying to spoil you, but you never let him. In the end, just having him in your life will be good enough for you.

[gayregis]

what are your favorite hcs for the hansa?

canon universe headcanons... sorry if these turn out slightly angouleme-centric or regis-centric...

angouleme being trained by milva in archery, because milva learned that she had starved for a good amount of her past and wanted to give her the tools so that she would never have to starve again. the fact that she struck her with the belt weighed on her still, and she wants to have a better relationship with her because she’s just young and she also reminds milva of herself when she was young, but angouleme makes it so damn difficult because her favorite thing to do is get on milva’s nerves and milva can’t ever respond by being unfazed... so milva thinks she’ll do what she knows best and what how she and her father had a good relationship... teach her to shoot. it goes well... they talk... once angouleme has the basics, they go out once a week to the caoberta woods to shoot. angouleme isn’t great, but she’s not too bad, and ends up shooting some pheasants, which she’s quite proud of. 

cahir and angouleme being trained by geralt in swordfighting. geralt one day tells cahir he wants to train him, at first cahir is slightly offended and starts listing off times when they have fought side-by-side and he’s held his own perfectly, that he was an officer, that he has already been trained well... geralt agrees, and then gets to the point - he wants to train him specifically to be able to counter a witcher’s attacks, because ciri doesn’t know that cahir has joined geralt’s company, and when she sees him again, his other hand might also lose the use of two fingers, if he’s not careful. cahir pales a little, nods with resoluteness, and agrees, thanking geralt. angouleme joins in on occasion just because she doesn’t want to be left out and also all of the hansa members who are swordfighters need constant training to ensure their skills don’t get rusty. geralt at first is apprehensive for angouleme to join because he’s afraid that she’ll remind him too much of ciri and it will destroy him, but it turns out that this is one of the activities that actually allows him to notice more differences between the two and separate them more in his mind, since their fighting styles are extremely different and he as a professional can assess that. cahir’s training is helpful for him because all of his previous training was grounded in nilfgaardian techniques and thus propaganda, the only thing on his mind was seeking honor for his family and recognition for his valor. now, he trains not for the honor of his family, but just for his family, for the people he cares about... and also, for himself, not the concept of a country...

the only people more nocturnal than teenagers are vampires... angouleme arrives back at the palace in the middle of the night, around 2 to 4 AM, sneaks in stealthily... goes in through the kitchen, thinks she’s got it made, since no one’s up... she’s halfway through when regis coughs softly, to let her know he’s there... he was just sitting in the pitch dark, reading and drinking tea, when she happened to sneak in. cue a sapkowskian witty exchange of words, in the style that yennefer and fringilla exchange words at the lodge meeting in baptism of fire, where they dance around a concept and a hypothetical. “it’s good for you that i’m human, and because i’m human, i can’t see at all in the dark. but were i able to see, i might see a girl sneaking in from committing petty crimes, with shock on her face as she’s just been caught.” angouleme is snarky at first but then through conversation realizes that regis sincerely isn’t mad at her for sneaking out and isn’t going to admonish her or tell geralt who would likely ground her. they have a small conversation, angouleme sneaks back up to her room... sleeps in the next day. this continues occuring, except these times angouleme actually looks forward to regis being there when she gets back so they can talk. and she can tell him about the various exploits she got up to, brag about what she did, because unlike the rest of the company, regis doesn’t have that human-society instinct to scold a child when they’ve been sneaking around and stealing stuff and getting into danger. it’s good for her to be able to tell someone, not only so she can get validation, but also because if something goes wrong... if something got too dangerous... she’d have someone to tell about it. which does happen eventually...

milva tends to roam around toussaint because she dislikes the atmosphere at the palace... it’s snooty, it’s stuck-up, and they always talk nonsense. add this to the fact that they’re all posing as noble lords and ladies undercover, and you’ve got a cocktail for disaster... milva fears opening her mouth and saying something deemed stupid by those in the court, and blowing their whole cover. so she chooses to walk through toussaint, and since they have a good source of money, she goes to the shops and bargains and talks to the shopkeepers. she also hunts in the caoberta woods and sells what she kills, not out of survival, but out of habit and not wanting to let her skills rest. what she didn’t expect was that the entire female population of toussaint have never seen an archer lady before, a woman with such nice biceps... cue lesbianisms. milva doesn’t recognize that half of the entire city is flirting with her, until angouleme tags along with her one day to visit the fletchery, and almost bursts out laughing at how thirsty this fletcher woman is and how oblivious her aunt is to it all.

geralt is highly intimidated by the duchess and misses dandelion. everyone in the hansa likes to roast dandelion for bedding the duchess. it’s good fun, but they never do it when geralt is within earshot (earshot is quite a long distance for a witcher), because he’s jealous and begins to pout if they mention dandelion and the duchess in his company. geralt on occassion bemoaned how dandelion wasn’t at the breakfast table, but then stopped because he was repeating himself... this worried the company, so they all pleaded with dandelion to wake up earlier so he could have breakfast with them. one day geralt walks downstairs for breakfast and dandelion is sitting there, he can’t decide whether to enter the room or just skip breakfast for the day, when the hansa spots him and invites him in. he grumbles a little “i thought you were in bed with her enlightened ladyship...” but doesn’t say much else... how do you talk to your best friend when you haven’t seen them in a month? breakfast is awkward and geralt leaves early. the hansa is quiet, dandelion knows he’s offended geralt because he’s always so damn sensitive, and lightly chases after him to the stables. there they have a genuine conversation about the marriage, one with less haste and one with less shock and anger... geralt explains that it’s not about him being happy for dandelion but rather about dandelion leaving him and the company... dandelion admits he didn’t realize it was about that, he thought geralt was fine now, he didn’t need his company anymore because he had gathered a company and was sitting in pure safety in beauclair, with fringilla vigo, no less... that he didn’t need to be there anymore, he has others... but it’s not about how many he has, it’s about who he has, and he wants dandelion’s company, too... he still needs his company, even though he has others’ now, even though he’s not alone and even though his arm and leg aren’t broken and he’s not sleeping in a soverign forest nation of dryads.

geralt and regis’ garden meetings are comically interrrupted every time they’re about to discuss something important or intimate. geralt is just about to speak about his feelings about yennefer, and a man runs past them chased by a furious duck. regis is about to discuss exactly why he feels so committed to humanity, and angouleme interrupts them with a shout. after they stop being bothered by whatever it was, neither of them feel confident enough to re-pursue the topic at hand.

angouleme bothering everyone when they first meet in tower of the swallow and realizing she hasn’t bothered cahir yet... halfway through she realizes this guy’s a fuckin lawful goodie-goodie , starts pestering him about that... she mockingly asks if he’s ever been to prison, he just softly responds "i spent two years isolated in the imperial citadel under maximum security for treason,” and leaves it at that. the entire company is silent and it’s awkward as hell... but angouleme is impressed and concedes, says they’re not as different as she thought, is glad to be travelling with him... he smiles and nods. the rest of the company exhales.

regis cooks a lot and he’s genuinely a good home cook. it helps that he has expertise in spices and herbs, and can also touch searingly hot metal with no ill effects. milva will drag in prey that she hunted early that morning and he’ll cook it. the palace chef is glad to have the day off on these days. regis also teaches angouleme to cook because she kept watching intently when he chopped green onions. angouleme also gets pretty good at cooking, one day she wants to make cookies with cahir. cahir is like “are you sure you know how to do this” and angouleme’s like duh obviously i’ve been learning so yeah. she does everything extremely well until it’s time to take the cookies out of the oven and she forgets to put mitts on and burns both her hands because guess who is such a great visual teacher.

angouleme also exploded an alchemy lab when regis was teaching her principles of alchemy but it was ok bc he tossed her out before the explosion and subsequent lighting of the lab on fire happened. he just stands there in the fire like “don’t worry you did great!"

the palace in beauclair has a hall of mirrors like the palace of versailles has IRL. regis cries a little every time he walks past (not EVER through) it.

the company once was walking through the streets of beauclair together. a dog came up and started viciously barking at regis, no one knew what to do. angouleme started barking back at the dog. it actually worked, it scared it away and then she yelled at its owner

this is more canon than headcanon but the company sits around the kitchen table to talk almost every night. and they use the kitchen as their space to hang out and meet with one another, if they’re feeling like they need company, they’ll just head downstairs and sit in the kitchen, and wait for someone else to show up... it’s a foolproof plan, or at least, it was, until fringilla also began to bide her time in there, and cahir was unfortunately the first one to find this out when he went downstairs. it was even more awkward for him specifically because after he faked his way out of that situation by saying he just wanted to get a snack, fringilla said “assire says her greetings” just to fuck with him just as he was walking out of the door

fringilla realized regis was a vampire really late in the game. about a week into dating geralt (and having regis piss her off) she’s just like excuse me geralt but i have to tell you. regis is a vampire. and geralt’s like... thank you...? for that?

fringilla also gets on milva’s nerves more than anyone else, more than angouleme because angouleme only gets on her nerves out of pure joy. fringilla does it without being being intentional, or in fact being intentional about it but not betraying that it was intentional. she asks around milva’s insecurities and whatnot, tells her that there’s this great book she read and wants to recommend milva... while knowing that milva is illiterate because she read her mind and found that out. but to her surprise, milva actually thanks her and takes the book. milva is freaking out later because she dosn’t know why she fucking did that, and goes to the company for help. they offer to read it for her but she declines, and instead demands they teach her how to read it herself. she has a week to do it, because she said she’d give fringilla back the book in a week. cue everyone losing their shit because they want to help milva but are terrible teachers. regis wants to start milva off on the continent’s equivalent of plato, while cahir is busy referring to his nilfgaardian-common dictionary. somehow she succeeds and when fringilla smugly asks her what she thought of the book, she gives her honest opinion. it wasn’t a very good book, she says this in her own way, you know, it’s not some academic book review, “the guy who wrote this makes shitall sense” and such. she’s extremely proud of herself but doesn’t show it as much as she feels it.

geralt completes many contracts and at breakfast, just as he’s about to put his feet up and sit around the palace for the day, he is visited by multiple representors of various noble houses, who are being crowded by palace guards, trying to get them out of the palace’s kitchen. geralt shoos the guards away and asks what this is all about and why it’s so urgent. they all give varied witness accounts of a giant bat flying around last night during the full moon. everyone at the table glances at regis and then immediately breaks their glance as to not raise suspicion. geralt makes an appointment with them all to meet them after breakfast... regis just butters his bread and says deadpan “i hope you get to the bottom of this, geralt”

modern au headcanons

pizza orders: milva - chicken and ranch, regis - mushrooms and whatever with basil, cahir - prosciutto and feta, angouleme - hawaiian pizza

starbucks orders - milva - cold brew no cream, regis - passion fruit tea, cahir - macchiato, angouleme - caramel frappuchino

regis drops angouleme off to soccer practice or whatever while blasting bauhaus

“milva said it’s my turn on the xbox” between angouleme and cahir

"uh mom made green beans” tiktok except it’s angouleme coming into cahir’s room to tell him regis made green beans