#i could probably say a white rose or something just to fit his clothes and church vibe

[feartheoldblog]

Ok this is now An Ask

You mentioned you love assigning flowers to characters.

What flowers would you assign to Bloodborne characters??? I'm fascinated

Not a full/official list but yes, Bloodborne character flowers. I was going to go into specific colours and a description of why I chose them but I’m tired right now (wanted to answer this as fast as possible though). I’ll probably update this with a proper explanation (and more characters) tomorrow :)

The vast majority of these are based off symbolism but one or two are just based off the vibe I get from them, honestly.

Freesia: Gascoigne

Gorse: Henryk

Lavender/Anemone: Gehrman

Gladiolus: Maria

Thistle: Gilbert

Heather: Chapel Dweller

Snowdrop: Plain Doll

Wild Foxglove: Iosefka

Petunia: Valtr

Wolfsbane: Brador

Aster: Caryll

Clematis: Laurence

Iris: Ludwig

Bonus pic of a lovely Peacock Butterfly putting on a show on our (not so lovely) climbing rose plant during summer

[whiskersz]

Husk/Angel/Reader, reader coming out as gender-fluid but is mostly masc aligned but has to put up with misgendering bc of liking fem fashion and how they support reader

Yay, poly relationship! I hope you enjoy the little fic and the format, decided to mix up hcs and ficlet :)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

When you come out as Genderfluid, both Angel and Husk are very supportive; you guys have been dating for a while at this point, and they were already aware of your struggles with gender, but they never minded one bit, just wishing for you to be happy and healthy, and to eventually find out what fits you best, whether that meant discovering a label you’re comfortable with or deciding not to label yourself at all.

Husk is, let’s say it, not the most well versed in these kind of things, but he does identify as Pansexual so he knows a thing or two about the community. He gathers his own information though, don’t worry, he doesn’t really need you to explain everything to him; unless it’s something deeply personal that only you can explain, in that case he’ll take you aside and ask you in the kindest and most non-judgemental way possible.

Angel is very excited for your discovery! He immediately asks if there’s anything he and Husk can do to make you feel more comfortable, maybe if there’s any pet names you prefer on some particular days or if you need to go shopping for new clothes that are gender affirming. Husk considers the latter a wonderful idea and offers to pay for anything that you might buy, if that is the case.

All in all, both of your boyfriends reveal to be your biggest support system within the Hotel, and probably in the entirety of Hell.

So it’s only natural that, when you three encounter a form of misgendering for the first time, they’re very protective of you over it;

It’s not often that you venture out of the Hotel with both of your partners, but today you three decided to go shopping for a couple new garments; your outfit could be described as fairly neutral, you’ve settled on wearing the most comfortable things in your closet to make it easier for you in case you’ll need to change and try anything on.

The chitter-chatter between Angel and Husk fills your ears and filters out the various cursing and screaming that’s, as usual, coming from every corner of the street – you’re used to it though, this is Hell after all.

You reach your destination fairly quickly, a small shop in an alley situated not much far away from the Hotel; Husk keeps the door open for both you and Angel, holding his pouch tight as it contains the money he’s brought with him in case you decide to buy anything.

The shop is cute, walls wine colored with white rose patterns scattered across them; you comment on it before an employee makes their way towards your little group:

“Welcome, what do you need?” she asks, voice flat, her tail swaying in an almost irritated manner.

You pay no mind to it and answer her question:

“Uhm, I’d like to look at the dresses section please.”

“Sure, follow me.” She gestures at you three before leading you to a different room a bit in the back, which is surely brimming with dresses of any kind.

You glance at the ones more on the chic side, already daydreaming about all the dates you could wear them on; Angel wiggles his eyebrows and nudges you when your eyes are caught by a black mini dress worn by a mannequin.

On the right side are the cuter dresses, the ones that are mostly meant to be worn during summer. They’re pretty, but most of them are of a color that you don’t particularly enjoy.

Right in front of you are exposed a couple of more dapper ones, you notice Husk eyeing those himself and you already know he’s imagining you wearing them, which makes your heart beat slightly faster.

“I’ll be nearby miss, if you need further assistance.”

And with that, the employee leaves. But oh, she used a word that she shouldn’t have.

Before leaving the Hotel, while having a light breakfast with your boyfriends, you had told them about how you specifically wished to be called masculine terms today and that you prayed nobody was going to misgender you. So it’s only natural that Husk’s ears shot up and Angel immediately turned towards her once they realized too.

“Leave it guys, she doesn’t know.” You stopped them before they could say something overly mean.

“Nothin’ wrong with correcting people, sweetheart.” Husk argued;

“Right! Hey toots-“ Angel calls her over once more, explaining the misunderstanding and communicating to her your preferred terms today since she is going to be helping and working with you for a while. He does so with such authority that she profoundly apologizes by the end of it, which is rare for anybody in Hell.

“Stand up for yourself when we’re not around too, alright?” Husk reminds you once the exchange between Angel and the employee is over.

“The old man’s right,” Angel teases, “We don’t want you feeling uncomfortable. But am I glad you didn’t have to interact with that woman because man, she was an ass at first!”

You shush him rather quickly, scared she might still be in hearing distance. Husk doesn’t help you at all, way too busy nodding at Angel’s statement.

Once they make sure one last time that everything is alright, you guys resume looking for the perfect dress.

Husk guides you towards the cheapest but still classy options, lots of dark shades and perhaps even accessories, while Angel proposes various things that are the complete opposite of that.

You know very well that they’re just suggesting though, and you can calmly look for a dress that you like while they check the options they enjoy the most.

You end up finding one that’s of your liking with the help of the employee, who this times seems to be acting in a way nicer manner than earlier; it’s in your favorite color, perfect for any occasion just like you like it, and both your boyfriends thrillingly approve!

 At the end of your little shopping spree – Angel ended up finding something for himself, too – you’re mostly glad that your boyfriends were there to make the whole experience a little less uncomfortable than it would’ve been had you gone alone.

You’re also delighted to see that both of them are ready to stand up for you in any situation, no matter how insignificant you might think of it as.

[zippidi-dooda]

Overblot design ratings starting at the bottom

DISCLAIMER: everything is ranked higher than Leona cause his toes

7) Score: 6.5/10

I think this is self explanatory-put shoes one, cause 1: ew, dirty floor may step on a nail and 2: you got long nails, if you stub a toe, the nail will break or be pushed back into toe and it will hurt, though I will say I like the "tights" or ink covering the legs and ankle bangles. The stitched rags are a cool idea but compared to other designs, it doesn't exude fear or an aura of power. I like the upper half though, it suits you and I like how the fur across the shoulders represents Scar's mane. The hair and makeup is nice, but the makeup is lacking compared to others.

6) Score: 6.8/10

The makeup is amazing, love the addition of the crown->that plus the shell necklace are a lovely representation of Ursula. I was surprised and happy to see this ob transformation but it's kinda just a darker version of Azul's merform to me so lacking a bit of creativity, still like it though

5) Score: 7/10

Admittedly this design is very plain compared to even the two before him, but it gains bonus points for changing flame color based on emotion like Hades' hair, the hair here is also styled just like Hades' so if we think about it, someone could have literally blowed his hair out during the battle like happened to Hades, plus I like the mask, similar to the masks that light up when you talk which is fitting for Idia's chatacter

4) Score: 8.3/10

Shoes are freaking amazing, the snatched waist, the tight fitting ... uh skirt, dress (?), the dangly jewelry, amazing, love baggy-Jammi but Jamil needs to wear more slick clothes like this, black and blood red suit him, makeup is great, inky chin pubes are ehh, turban is a bit over the top but it represents Jafar when he first gets his power which is fitting and the medusa hair is also representative of Jafar's transformation and looking at Jafar's dialogue we now know that deep down Jamil loves puns which is great. Will say that although each character gets a skin tone alteration when the ob, I found Jamil's most apparent and he kinda just looks ashy, but still a great design

3) Score: 9.3/10

So when I first saw this, I hated his crown, sun, peacock headdress thing but seeing it more and more, it's kind of fitting, Vil is the only one who could rock something so "extra" (I mean that in a nice way, idk the right word for it), and if it represents a peacock it matches with the feathers on his legs, and I guess the claws do too. Honestly, I think this design was more inspired by the Evil Queen in Snow-white and the Huntsman (I may be wrong on that, don't quote me) but again, it is very fitting for Vil as a character. The subtle hints of red are nice, love the crown and the puffed sleeves and the dark veil. All of it is very grandiose and regal very queen, very Vil, but the dirty collar peaking out (and kinda the sleeve style) reminds me of Snow White which can be fitting for both the Queen and Vil because they both hate the one people praise but are always overshadowed by them, no matter what they do people will remember and connect them to the one they hate, even if they had succeeded in getting rid of them. The corset's okay, just shows that the rose has thornes, makeup's okay looks like his dorm crown and makeups nice but not much else

2) Score: 9.8/10

He is adorable. Should I be scared, yeah probably, but he looks like an edgy cupcake I love it. Has one of the best makeup designs, love that the crown stays but just becomes more deadly, love the choker, love the spiked collar, love the high boots, his heart is displayed for all to see, double belts are always a safe bet, the painted roses represent the queen how things went wrong, the thorny vines wrap around him showing how sharp his words can bite, and the cards hanging from him, dyed in black like him are a lovely addition to the ensemble because it represents how even when gone mad, the Queen's soldiers dutifully followed her orders and came to her defense which, if Ace hadn't done anything, would be exactly the case for all the Heartslabyul students when Riddle overblotted

1) Score: 10/10

I mean, come on now, look at him. I love the minty skin tone here its representative of Maleficent and really suits him. The cape shifting from purple to thorny green flames is also representative of Maleficent at the end of the film which I love, the crossing cage on his chest and under his skirt reminds me of the gates/windows/doors patterns of the time Sleeping Beauty is based in and we know he love architecture so points there, the style of the shoes/tights also look like the style if the time a little dorky but cute. He wears bangles and ink runs up his shoulders but I think it's interesting his arms and hands are mostly uncovered which is uncommon in almost all of the ob forms. The design of his corset is nice, don't really get the point of the belt tied in front but hey if it come down to it, grab and throw him over your should then sprint away, he'll be thrown off for a second but greatly angered afterward but hey distraction. The hair brushed back really seems to make him look more royal than he normally does which is nice and we can see his scales which are perfectly enhanced by the makeup outlining them. Now, I do like the green glowing between the plates of his tail but seeing the same pattern going on in his horns throws me off since I think I got too used to seeing his normal horns, his horns do look longer here but I'm not entirely sure that's true or if its just an optical illusion cause of the colors. Overall, the true extent of his strength and power are showcased clearly in this form which I think is great, and I see his cape is still dragging on the floor despite his height and the fact that he's floating so I need to see him walk down the stairs and swish his cape around like Mother Gothel

And that's it, what ranking would you give these Overblot forms? Which one would you wear?

[manytoonepoet13]

What is a rose truly for?

~~~🌹🥀~~~

This music video has left me quite... confused? Perhaps a bit frustrated? Because I can tell there is something in this mv, in this song, but I can't put my finger on it on what it is exactly. Particularly, I am torn over the symbolisms, why these specific visuals were used, why these specific transitions, and so on, how they would fit in with the general timeline and the overall story, it's confusing, at least, as of now where there's a lack of English translation. I'm certain everything will fall into place, but until then, I want to discuss my theories.

1.) "I'm Stitch Dot." I first approached the title quite literally, stitch as in stitches and it may relate to the tapestry and quilts Roma's kingdom is known for. Then I looked at the possible meanings it could have in literature, to which I have discovered that "stitch" may refer to a sudden pain, which is understandable since you get hurt when you get stitches, or, you get hurt which is why you need to get stitches but you end up hurting yourself more because of those stitches.

That last thought was close, it made me relate it to roses, and my thought looked a little bit like this: "A rose, it's beautiful, but it has thorns. Find yourself pricking yourself, you get hurt. And it's somewhat similar to a dot. But sometimes, that aside, sometimes when you get hurt, the pain is not similar to a mere dot. Sometimes, the pain is too much that you need to get stitches to fix yourself and keep yourself together." That thought is VERY close to what the title wanted to convey because, vague it may be, I tried to actually say the title out loud "I'm Stitch Dot" and, perhaps it's just me, but it sounded something similar to "I'm stitched up."

That thought made me compare it to the visuals, where different fabrics were stitched up to form one quilt, one tapestry. Those different fabrics were supposed to symbolize the different parts of Romarriche...

2.) Fabrics.

The fabric here is most likely representing the "old french" or "old american" aesthetic they wanted him to convey through his clothing, and perhaps a part of his personality. This is Roma on surface level.

There's a lot going on here, but let me break it down for you.

a.) The white fabric with pink flowers: Most probably relating to an "innocent" kind of love, one that symbolizes his kind heart, his caring and generous nature.

b.) The purple (or magenta?) fabric with pink flowers: Most probably relating to a slightly more intense love than the other fabric, probably representing his want and determination to protect others, which may relate to this line from his wiki used to describe him: "Determination Hidden Deep Within a Tolerant Nature."

c.) The blackened red fabric that looks like it has roses but also has this white thingy that looks like it was scribbled down randomly: An extension of the previous fabric, but here, it got intense to the point of disarray and this is where the SEEDS take place. Roma dislikes it when his friends are hurt, while this may not be an insecurity, it is a dislike, therefore a negative emotion, therefore the SEEDS would provoke him so they could feed on those negative emotions. The rose pattern is him, the white scribbles is him being plagued by paranoia of not being able to protect his friends or anyone if the situation calls it. This leads him spiralling down and overthinking and over-worrying which will lead the SEEDS right to where they are and the cycle will continue on until the unfortunate happens.

d.) The black fabric: Him getting corrupted. Easy as that.

This struggle to remain calm but at the same time to be on guard to protect whoever dear to him will be the main thing that will lead the SEEDS right to him if he doesn't balance it out.

The same thing applied here, only half of the screen is mixed with the red textile overlapping the black fabric. Most probably, if meant in a good way (to which I hope it is), means that he managed to balance it out. The fabric we talked about became more vibrant, and perhaps a bit more orderly now. While the fabric that consumes the second part of the screen, the black fabric with red textiles, most probably means how even with these negative emotions, he managed to find that point where he managed to find good in it, he managed to find the power he has, how instead of paranoia, he sees determination, and covered it with the intense emotions that he has now embraced.

And Merold? Why does he have the purple fabric? Well, his intense emotions has been "tamed" in a way during Your Melody and had now learned his lesson.

3.) Frames.

Most probably, the frames being used in this mv is to show how Roma used to confine himself, or his emotions rather to keep them from being too intense or scare people off, kind of like Merold in that broken mirror. But throughout, he has learn to open up, and be free.

Which is why he went from this:

To this:

But unfortunately, I don't think I could end this happily. Perhaps bittersweet.

4.) The distance between the lords and knights.

This is something very interesting I found in the comments section. (Thank you and credit to these people, by the way.)

They highlighted how even though the knights and their lords are close, there is still a distinct line, this distance that none of them dare to cross. And this speaks a lot considering Roma's relationship with his lord is probably the closest out of all the knights. Marroncream was the one who taught him how to make sweets and sewing, this solidified their bond and brought them closer together. They cherish each other, care for each other, yes, but still, there is this distance between them that never seems to close. Perhaps it is their titles? Their duties? The sense of professionalism? This is most probably why gray roses was shown - they symbolize formality and sophistication. Or perhaps he just struggles to convey it properly. The knights do have this "sickness" where they don't know how to express their feelings properly and do things they think is for the best for the people they love without thinking clearly (sometimes).

But what I really like about the second comment is this line "Although you don't your love isn't very beautiful, do you also think it's as important as the needlework of your beloved master?"

This love grew because of his bond with Marroncream, primarily because of them bonding over needlework. If ever he considers his love as something that is not very beautiful, the same love that grew from needleworking with his beloved master, and the love that came from seeing the finished art his master has made, would he consider the needlework of his master not very beautiful like his love? Would it be as important as his "not very beautiful" love? He would most probably answer no, but what he is implying is leading to the answer yes. Why?

Like I said, this love grew from needleworking with his master and the awe and admiration from seeing the finish product of his master's finished needlework. If he were to consider his love "not very beautiful" he would deem his master's needlework "not very beautiful" as well.

That would most probably leave him silent. Contemplating. Wondering about his answer. This is a common problem with the knights, one that I would relate to my earlier statement about the red fabric (c). Him feeling so much yet all of this thoughts are practically scribbles that he can't think clearly and wouldn't know how to express it properly... That is something he would have to learn. That is something he has learn thought the mv.

5.) Eyes Closed.

Perfect! I was wondering about this, and it's quite fitting as well. I've said this in passing before where eyes have been quite the prominent symbol in Fragaria. First shown in Ever Red, then Your Melody, so on so forth. But the most recent one is Bouquet of Wishes, and now, this.

And it's quite interesting to know this point because the story this comment has mentioned (Thank you and credits to this person), fits the overall world of Fragaria in a way that I've never thought about before. Cover your right eye, then you won't see your past — how the first timeline of the Fragaria world has fallen. Cover your left eyes, and you won't see your future �� the uncertainty, the potential of having history repeat itself when they least expect it because they lost their memories. Right, applies to Roma, left, applies to both Merold and Puruth, But what does it mean to have both eyes closed then? I haven't read the story myself, but, if I were to connect this with the mv and the overall world of Fragaria, it could be described as momentary peace.

You close your eyes, free yourself from looking at the horrible things that has occured for too long, and let yourself relax... breathe... think... reflect... You close your eyes and see black. The void of color, or lack thereof, you usually associate with the SEEDS, but in this moment where it is just you, you would be able to breathe and free yourself of paranoia and anxiety, and reflect... You close your eyes and see your friends, your beloved master, your people, you see how they have supported you all throughout, you see how far you have come despite the consequences. You close your eyes and see everything. Everything you have done. Everything you haven't done. Everything that needs to be done.

You close your eyes, and suddenly, everything is falling into place... The only thing you need to do now is open them, but keep that sight in your heart, stitch it into your very being, your very should... And take it from there.

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

“The knights ask nothing in return for their love.”

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 11: Ad Libitum

In which Danny gets a clearer glimpse of high society...and of Christopher. Contains: 3.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Ad libitum, adj: In music, performed with free rhythm and expression; improvised and without restriction. 

* * * * * * * * * *

“Sam. What the heck is this?” 

Danny stared at the thing on her nightstand with open-mouthed shock, trying to understand what it was she was looking at. 

The lamp next to it flickered on, a flame dancing back and forth in what could have been an amused chuckle. “Well, you made a mistake last week. You got Christopher excited about something.”

“I said I was curious about what rich people did for fun. I didn’t expect him to…” Something clicked in her mind, both incredibly obvious and utterly improbable. “Wait, is that what those measurements you took were for? Did he make this?” she exclaimed in disbelief, holding up a corner of the elaborate pile of ruby-colored fabric that appeared to be a gown made for her size. She’d hardly even seen clothing this fancy before, much less touched it with her own hands. 

“Yep. You should have seen him, he was going absolutely nuts all week trying to sew it, tearing out his hair and going on about the size of lace and buttons and stuff. I’ve never seen him so dedicated to something before.” The flame danced about before shrinking back down. “Uh, don’t mention I said anything about all that. But you’ve gotta try it on.” 

Danny scowled slightly—not in distaste of the idea of wearing such fancy garb, but to hide her embarrassment at the fact that she wore little fancier than her everyday, much more simple dress. “Uh…where…how do I even…”

She was almost caught off guard by the silk curtain that had been wrapped around the bedframe coming undone to reach over and hold the dress, as if the delicate fabric was actually a pair of hands. “I could help you put it on, if you’re alright with that?” 

It was odd to think that Danny still had no idea whether or not Sam was a man or a woman, and was frankly hesitant to ask, even in this situation. She found that she didn’t actually care all that much—Sam was Sam, as far as she was concerned. “...sure. Yeah, you can help.” 

Sam gently directed her in how the dress was worn, showing her the different parts of the dress as they explained each step. An hour passed easily by the time they were done—not just with the dress, which fit her surprisingly well. Sam had even managed to help put her hair up in a fancy updo, which held together even without the help of any sort of pins. They left briefly to fetch “a surprise,” which turned out to be a few tiny white flowers made of silk, small enough to entwine into her hair—probably plucked from the decorative vase in the front entry.

She looked at herself in the small handheld mirror that Sam held up for her, turning this way and that. It was like she was looking at a stranger—a beautiful stranger, one draped in a lovely shade of red that flowed around her like the delicate petals of a rose. The stitching, while somewhat unwieldy and larger due to the nature of the giant thread it used, was still executed by a neat and careful hand. She’d never even dreamed of wearing clothes like this before—even if they were made by giant hands and missing a few of the details that normal formal attire might have had, it was just as magical to her—if not more so.

“Well? What do you think?”

She hadn’t realized she’d gone on without saying anything for a while, still quite overwhelmed with her drastic change in appearance. “I…it’s…wow. It’s amazing.” 

“Then let’s go. He’s got more to show you, you know.” 

“He what?” Danny exclaimed. The rolling cart that Sam often controlled pulled up next to the nightstand she was on—one of its handles bent up towards her, like a hand extended to guide her onto it. 

She barely suppressed an amused smile as she placed her hand atop the handle and stepped down onto the cart, carefully lowering herself to a seated position as it gently rolled out of her room and towards the main entryway.

“What exactly does he have planned?” she whispered, a little bit more uncertainty stirring in her gut as they approached. 

“Just wait and see,” the cart whispered, sounding as if it barely held back a grin as it did.

She complied with silence, looking around nervously as they emerged into the mansion’s grand entrance room. It was twilight—the room was cast in the shadows of the day’s end, the lights not yet lit inside. It was empty, as far as she could tell, with no sign of Christopher yet. 

The cart stopped in front of the huge, marble staircase. “Wait here,” Sam whispered again, and Danny could almost hear the whoosh sound as their presence swept from the cart to somewhere else in the room. 

All at once, the lights on the walls blazed to life, and the crystal chandelier overhead sparkled with a million tiny lights within it—bathing the place in a warm and inviting glow. And just as the room was illuminated, she heard the footsteps from above. She rose to her feet instinctively as she saw Christopher appear from around the corner and begin to descend the steps, adorned in a more formal suit than his usual attire—a long, dark blue tailcoat with elaborate golden stitching all along it, lace peeking out from the collar and the sleeves. He carried himself with all the poise and grace that was to be expected of nobility, walking with a slow and steady gait as he made his way down towards Danny. 

His eyes fell on her—and though it at first made her feel as if she was being appraised, wondering if she looked as out of place as she felt, her unease began to fade as he gave her a gentle smile. 

He bowed towards her like a gentleman. “You look lovely, Danny. I’m glad the dress fits you so well.” 

She couldn’t do much more than laugh slightly, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you went through the trouble of making it. That can’t have been easy, with your big-ass hands and all.” 

His composed air broke as he barked out a laugh. “You have such a way with words, doll. But you’re correct, it provided plenty of…unique challenges. And unfortunately, I couldn’t replicate many of the other essentials you’d normally wear to an occasion like this. The dress is also…rather simple, but it was the best I could do with limited materials.”

“Simple?” she gasped. “You’ve got to be joking. This is easily the fanciest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” She grabbed a few handfuls of the fabric and waved it about. “I bet it’s probably more expensive than all the clothes I own put together. It's beautiful,” she gushed, temporarily forgetting that she was feeding directly into his ego.

He chuckled, clearly quite pleased with her admiration of his handiwork. “Well then, I’m glad you enjoy it.” 

She gave him a funny, ever so slightly suspicious look. “What’s all this about, anyways?” 

“You wanted to know what people like me entertained ourselves with. So I want to show you what a ball is like.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been to balls?”

“Well, I’ve…read a lot of books on the subject,” he admitted, with a slightly sheepish grin. “As far as I’m aware, this is what the upper class tend to concern themselves with. Truthfully, I’m interested in trying out some of the things I’ve read.” 

The giant gestured widely around the room with a sweeping motion of his arm. “Now, you have to imagine a lot more people in here—all of them dressed in beautiful gowns and whispering amongst each other. There’s noise everywhere—noise and color and life.” He gave her a sideways grin. “...at least, that’s what the books say.” 

“Uh-huh.” Danny tilted her head to the side. “So what do you do at things like this?” 

Christopher shrugged. “They’re mostly an excuse to show off your home and your status. There’s a lot of socializing, making connections, keeping face—they’re much more dull than you’d expect. But outside of all of that…” 

Christopher looked to the side and gave a short nod, meeting Danny’s eyes again with an excited gleam about them. “...generally, you dance.”

The sound of music began to fill the air of the grand room as a violin that had previously been resting on a nearby table came to life, its bow pulling itself across the strings in a lively, bright rhythm. 

Danny laughed in surprise. “Sam can play the violin?” 

“They’ve picked up a lot of things over time,” Christopher said with a smile. “Unfortunately they can't replicate a full band—they can only control one thing at once. But the violin is their favorite.”

He took a few steps forward towards the middle of the floor, turning back to look at Danny. “This music is called a waltz.”

Christopher began to step in time to the rhythm, moving with graceful precision from one foot to the next as he danced alone, demonstrating the steps clearly. He spun and held his arms out, as if he held an invisible partner within them, but his eyes always came back to rest on Danny. He smiled wide, clearly enjoying himself.

“You seem like a natural,” she remarked, absolutely fascinated with the way the giant moved. Christopher always moved with such an oddly delicate poise, but the way he danced took it a step beyond—it was a fluid sort of grace that made it hard to look away. “Are you sure this is your first time dancing?”

He chuckled slightly as he continued. “I’ve practiced a time or two. Like I said, I’ve read a lot of books.” 

The music’s tempo increased slightly, and Christopher’s steps became a little faster and more complex to match. She wasn’t sure if this was still a waltz or a different dance entirely, but as it went on, Christopher seemed to get lost in it, flowing with a natural ease and vigor from each step to the next. 

As he executed another spin, she caught a glimpse of something on the side of his head—or at least, she thought she did. She’d always written off the twists of hair on the sides of Christopher’s head as part of some fancy rich person hairstyle she wasn’t cultured enough to know about, but she swore in that moment she saw the hint of something…within them? A bit of his hair slipped further, revealing that they weren’t quite simple braids at all—instead, his hair was wrapped around something just as dark, but quite solid all the same. 

It almost looked like…

She waited until the music slowed down and the giant had seemingly finished his routine before she found the courage to ask. “Hey, Christopher?” 

The giant was still smiling, seemingly oblivious to the hair that had fallen out of place as he strode back towards Danny, slightly out of breath. “Yes?”

She gestured to the side of her own head. “Do you have…something—”

His face immediately fell, his eyes wide as he reached up to feel the twists of hair on each side of his head at once. His fingers moved quickly to adjust the fallen strands back into place. “No, no, it’s just my hairstyle. I’m afraid it might have slipped a little while I was moving.” 

Now she was curious, because while she knew Christopher had a tendency to be somewhat dramatic, she doubted his immediate, almost frightened reaction to his hair being slightly out of place was warranted. She tried to give him a somewhat encouraging smile, tilting her head inquisitively. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know. I’m just curious.” 

He hesitated for a long time before he spoke again, looking as utterly apprehensive as if she’d asked for him to strip down in front of her. “...are you sure?” 

She nodded. “Show me.” 

His lips set into a tight line before he gave a slow nod, hesitantly reaching up and beginning to fiddle with his hair. He undid a strand from the elaborate updo he wore, and began to unwrap it until it fell loose past his face, still holding a delicate curl.

On the side of Christopher’s head, where the hair had hidden it before, was a ridged, ebony-black horn, almost blending in with the shade of his hair except that it reflected the light of the chandelier along its edge. It laid close against his scalp—seemingly leaving enough space to wrap his hair around to hide it, but close enough that such an effort would have been effective had it not slipped. 

He mechanically undid the other side of his hairstyle to reveal a matching horn on the other side. Both curved back but didn’t extend beyond the back of his head. 

Danny’s eyes widened. She admittedly knew quite little about giant anatomy, but she’d just assumed Christopher was a large human that didn’t need to eat, and maybe had hearing a little better than most. This put things into a slightly different perspective, to see him adorned with such blatantly non-human features. “You’ve had horns this whole time?” 

Honestly, she was just impressed that he’d managed to hide such a glaring thing from her for a week. But why did he care?

For perhaps the first time since she’d met him, Christopher seemed genuinely embarrassed, tucking the strand of hair he’d just unfurled behind his ear and looking down at the ground, away from Danny. “I try to hide them. They just…remind me that I’m…not human.” 

“I mean…” Danny paused, trying to think about how to handle this topic delicately. She hadn’t heard Christopher ever express disdain for his own nature like this. And “delicate” wasn’t exactly her strong suit.

“...you’re not. But that’s okay.” She gave him an encouraging grin. “Personally, I think they look kinda cool. Way better than that funny hairstyle.” 

His head snapped up. “Funny?” he gasped, almost offended. Then he regarded her more curiously, a little blush coloring his cheeks. “...you…like them?” 

She laughed, finding something very amusing about the hundred-foot-tall man’s chagrin. “Yeah. Like I said—you don’t need to bother hiding stuff from me. I don’t care that you’re a giant or whatever. I literally talk to a possessed house everyday, you having horns is probably the least weird thing about all of this.” 

“Hey! I’m a whole-ass mansion, at least.” 

Christopher seemed to contemplate her words for a little longer, something like awe dancing in his expression. A little of the light from above seemed to reflect in his dark eyes even more than before, and a wide smile crossed his face. 

He extended a gloved hand towards her as he bent forward in a gentlemanly bow. “Would you care to dance, Danny?” 

She gave him a strange look. “...huh?” 

“It’s not half as fun without a partner, doll.” He remained bowed, grinning a little further. “I can’t just show off and impress you all night. You ought to try it too.” 

Danny stared at Christopher’s hand like it had grown another finger. “Um…I mean, sure, but um…how are we going to…I mean, I’m not really a huge fan of getting stepped on—”

“We’ll improvise,” Christopher said, and he extended his other hand towards her as well, to hold her hand between his fingers to guide her onto his palm in the same manner that Sam had guided her onto the cart earlier.

Dumbfounded, she couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the absurdity of the whole situation—even so, she held onto one of his fingers as she took a few steps onto his palm. He slowly raised her up closer to his chest as he stood again, holding both of her hands between his thumb and forefinger. 

She did her very best to remain upright and try not to think about how far down it would be if she tripped over the long hem of her new dress and fell to her death. 

She clearly hadn’t contained her worry well enough, because Christopher gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let you fall, Danny. Trust me.” 

“A-ah-okay,” she mumbled, swallowing nervously and forcing herself to look up and meet the giant’s face instead of looking down. It helped, somewhat. “So…now what do we do?” 

Christopher’s face was soft, even as it was now framed by the newly revealed horns. “Just hold on, and try to get a feel for the rhythm.” 

She held onto his fingers tighter as he began to take long, sweeping strides across the floor, muttering quietly in time with the music as he did—one, two, three, one, two, three.

“Normally, yes, this dance is done with a partner of the same size, and there are a lot more hand motions involved,” he explained as he moved. She could feel even from her vantage point how graceful and practiced each motion of his was, as if this was truly second nature to him. He held her incredibly still as he danced, keeping his palm relatively even. It was enough that she didn’t even feel nauseous from the movement, if she kept herself focused only on his face, and the new horns her eyes kept getting drawn to, and not the giant room that spun around them.

Unfortunately, she did eventually make the mistake of glancing to the side, and felt a sudden rush of vertigo flip her stomach over. She squeezed her eyes shut and bent over slightly. “Oh, god—”

Christopher slowed to a stop, suddenly sounding concerned. The violin paused in its playing as well. “Was that…too much? Are you alright?” 

Danny took in a deep breath and forced her eyes to open again as she gasped for air. “I-I’m fine, it was just…we were moving so fast…”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured gently. “I didn’t take into account how disorienting it must feel at your size.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe…I’ll move a little slower. I could try taking smaller steps.”

She nodded wearily. “Much appreciated.” 

He nodded towards the violin again, which resumed the music at a slightly slower tempo. This time, Christopher took steps about half the size of the ones previously, moving in a much smaller circle as he stepped along to the music. 

This was, indeed, much more tolerable. Danny was tempted to look down towards his feet to see what the steps were and try to copy them, but she was not feeling brave enough. Instead, she began to sway slightly to the music, keeping the same rhythm that Christopher whispered. One, two, three, one, two, three.

“This is the part where you’d twirl around,” he said with a smirk, slightly adjusting the way his fingers held her hands to be positioned above her head as he stood still. “Go ahead and try it, doll.” 

The nickname had dwindled down from a source of massive irritation to nothing but a mild annoyance at worst—it felt more like the same kind of playful tease she and Nathan would exchange. She sneered back at him. “Yeah, sure, bastard.” 

She complied with his request, holding very securely to his fingers as she carefully, very carefully, turned around in place—certainly not the most graceful motion, but she prioritized not falling to her death over grace. 

Even so, it prompted a wide smile from Christopher, who resumed the steps from earlier—every now and then pausing and lifting his fingers slightly to encourage her to twirl. They both began to get lost in the steps and the music, Danny turning every ounce of her focus to the moves. Once she got used to it and realized that she really was unlikely to fall while Christopher held her—or perhaps she’d simply forgotten about the floor below her entirely—Danny found herself laughing, filled with a carefree sort of joy as she let Christopher demonstrate the dance, and joined in with what little ability she had to contribute. 

Later, the memory of this evening would be but a swirl of motion and color, the dark blue of Christopher’s suit and the glint of his horns in the candlelight, the faint echo of a violin—but it would not be something soon forgotten, perhaps not for the rest of Danny’s life. 

She would remember that rush of ecstasy—the feeling of a true friendship beginning to be kindled in the most unlikely of places, with the most unlikely of people. 

When the music finally stopped, reaching its crescendo before one last, drawn-out note faded to silence, Danny was out of breath—but she didn’t want to stop now. She didn’t want it to end, not yet.

Christopher bent his head down as he continued to hold onto her hands, only slightly out of breath himself and grinning widely with his eyes closed. “Did you have fun?” he whispered, between breaths.

His low voice was much closer to her than before, almost close enough to raise the hair on the back of her neck. It surrounded her like a blanket—comforting, in a strange way. She normally didn’t like people getting close to her, but for now, she’d make an exception.

“I…I did,” she admitted with a laugh. “Thanks for not dropping me.” 

His head bent even further down until his forehead rested ever so gently against the top of her head. She could feel each soft exhale across her skin as his breathing began to even out. It was such a foreign experience that she found she couldn’t move or react at all—she was stuck, breathless, in awe of the way that Christopher was so utterly huge and all-encompassing, yet so gentle at the same time.

“I told you that you can trust me,” he whispered, almost…affectionately.

All of a sudden—like the soft silence in the air had been sliced with a knife—she could feel the giant’s entire body stiffen around her, and he drew his face away from her quickly, as if he hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. His face seemed slightly more pale than before.

“Are…you alright?” she asked, cautiously trying to determine what had startled him to such a degree.

He wasn’t trying to like…KISS me or something, right? That would be so awkward, oh my god, I should have told him I’m not interested in him that way—

“I’m fine,” he replied stiffly. He put on a charming smile—but something about it seemed only skin-deep, not reaching his eyes. “I think it might be time to retire for the night, though.” 

Without another word passed between them, Christopher carried Danny back to her bedroom and set her down on the bed, giving her a short bow of his head before he turned to leave.

“Hey!” 

Christopher stopped, but didn’t turn to face her.

She stared at the giant’s back pensively, a little worry beginning to creep into her. “Thank you, for tonight. It was fun.” 

He was still for a moment before he turned halfway towards her, the ghost of a grin tugging at his face. “I should be thanking you for indulging me. I had a wonderful time, truly.” She noticed his grin falter only a little before he turned away again. “Sleep well, Danny.” 

She stared after the door that closed behind him. What's wrong with him?

She would not get an answer to that question for another week—unbeknownst to Danny, an entire week past Christopher’s self-imposed deadline to keep his curse at bay. 

It was not enough time for either to prepare for what would happen as a result. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

Thank you for reading! Now things are going to start ramping up.

Next week, Chapter 12: The Beast.

[suddencolds]

Fool Me Twice | [2/?]

Part 2 to my OC fake dating fic! Thank you so much to everyone who expressed support for part 1 ❤️ This chapter is slightly on the longer end (I was considering cutting it off halfway but decided against it). Hopefully it doesn’t feel too disjointed :’)

Part 2 (ft. fake dating, a party, a confrontation, and an elaborate lie)

(You can read [Part 1] here!)

—

Yves wakes up the morning of the 31st with a dull, throbbing headache. 

His whole body feels heavy, his limbs leaden and sore as if he’s just gone through a day of heavy lifting, and it feels as though he’s barely slept at all. It’s the kind of unshakeable exhaustion that doesn’t dissipate even after a hot shower and a cup of coffee (nearly hot enough to scald, though at least it feels good on his throat), and he’s congested in a way that no number of tissues seems to alleviate.

He spends the morning wrapping his presents for Margot, shoveling enough snow off of his front doorstep so he can open the front door, and rifling through his closet for something to wear. Then it’s a stop at the pharmacy for cold medicine—he picks out the kind that he hopes will leave him least symptomatic for the party—and a short text exchange with Vincent, who doesn’t say much except confirm that he has everything ready for tonight, followed by a longer text exchange with Mikhail, who will be at the party too.

If Yves is honest with himself, he could use a nap, but he denies himself one until he finds himself nodding off in the middle of putting together lunch. If he’s going to be staying close to midnight and driving back after, he thinks, then perhaps a short nap wouldn’t be the worst idea.

The nap, as it turns out, doesn’t help much. He wakes up groggy and disoriented. Still, he hopes maybe, at the very least, it might help keep him awake enough on the drive back. Vincent’s address is a twenty minute drive from home. Yves downs a dose of cold medicine, sets his presents down in the trunk, texts Vincent that he’s on his way, and then heads out. 

Outside, it’s snowing in thick, heavy flakes. Snow settles over the roads, over the trees and the houses. He gets there five minutes early, out of courtesy, but it’s barely ten seconds after he knocks on the door that Vincent is opening it.

He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt, a black blazer, and tight-fitting jeans, though something about the way the jacket fits over his shoulders makes them look sharper and more angular than usual. His dark hair is sideswept, and there are pink-tinted sunglasses perched atop his head, and there’s a tiny golden rose pinned to his lapel. He looks simultaneously put together and flatteringly in his element. Definitely photoshoot material, Yves thinks. 

“I didn’t have much other than work clothes,” Vincent says, which is how Yves realizes he’s been staring.  

“No, you...” Yves swallows. ...You look like someone I could fall in love with, his mind supplies unhelpfully. “You look fantastic. I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” 

“It’s no trouble,” Vincent says. He shuts the door behind him, locks it, and steps outside into the cold. 

Yves follows after him. It’s cold enough outside to make his nose run, and he sniffles as discreetly as he can, clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. He can only hope he looks half as presentable as Vincent does, right now. The cold medicine is working its magic as it stands, but it’ll start to wear off around eleven—hopefully by then, everyone will be drunk enough not to take notice.

“I know you said parties are not your scene,” Yves says, rounding the corner of the driveway towards his car. “So we can leave whenever you want. I mean, I’m guessing you probably have New Year’s plans anyways? I can make sure to… hhEHh-!” As if the timing could be any worse. He veers sharply away, raising an arm to shield his face, and buries his nose in his suit sleeve. “hHEH… hEHh’iisZSCH-ieww! snf-! Ugh, sorry, unfortudately you’ll be hearing a lot of… t-that… HEHH’izsSCHH-Ew!”

The sneeze is messy and spraying, and he winces, wipes his nose on the back of his wrist.

“Bless you,” Vincent says, seemingly unaffectedly, though Yves can’t help but wonder if he’s disgusted.

“Thadks. But dod’t bother,” Yves says, and sniffles again. He’ll make a point to ask Margot where the tissues are. “You’ll get tired of that phrase really quickly. Adyways, as I was saying, I can mbake sure to get you back home before midnight. Or… earlier, if that’s what you prefer.”

“I can stay late,” Vincent says. “Though if you’re unwell, you should probably get some rest.”

“That’s sweet. I’m ndot really that unwell, though,” Yves says. “But I can’t promise I’m not contagious. I wod’t make you like, hold my hand or adything.”

“If it’s to sell the relationship,” Vincent says, “I wouldn’t mind.” 

Yves says, “Still.”

“You’re doing this to prove to your ex you’ve moved on,” Vincent says, as if it’s really that simple. “For that to work, we’d have to be a convincing couple.”

“You can just sit close to mbe,” Yves says, pulling open the car door to slide into the driver’s seat. “Or laugh even when I crack a bad joke. Or tell embarrassing stories about mbe—great power, great responsibility, of course.”

“I could do all of those things as a friend,” Vincent says evenly. “But it won’t exactly look like I like you if I refuse to touch you all night.”

“If the others dod’t buy the act, at least I can say I’ll have tried. I just - snf-! - don’t want it to be an inconvedience to you, especially when i…” Yves turns away sharply, towards the window at his left, and lifts his arm to cover. “hHEH’iIIZSHEew! Ugh…” The sneeze mists over his sleeve, leaving him teary-eyed and sniffling. “...when I’b - snf! - so evidently… well, you know.” He clears his throat, though even that small action is enough to make him cough. 

Vincent goes quiet for a moment. Then he asks, “What would you be fine with?”

“What?”

“You said you wouldn’t make me hold your hand. But would you be fine with it?”

“Just hypothetically, I’d be fide with whatever,” Yves says, with a shrug. “Hand holding, hugging, making out—i mean, it’s ndothing I haven’t gotten drunk and done before with a stranger, but obviously I don’t actually expect you to do any of that. You just being there is more than edough. I mean, you’re already spending your New Year’s Eve doidg this for me.”

“Yes,” Vincent says. “That’s exactly why I want it to not be for nothing.”

When Yves looks over to him, Vincent’s expression is difficult to parse.

“It wod’t be for nothing,” Yves says, mustering up a smile. It’s almost endearing how seriously Vincent is taking this.

Really, if Yves can get through tonight with this cold of his—and his ex of his—he’ll consider it enough of a win.

—

When they get to the party, Margot waves them in. She steps in for a hug, and even though Yves thinks that’s probably inadvisable, he lets her—Margot hugs everyone, and the extra warmth is more than welcome, as it stands.

“I made sure that tonight’s refreshments included orange juice,” she says. “How’s the cold?”

“Fantastic,” Yves says, trying not to sniffle. “I’m sure the orange juice will cure it.”

“That’s the spirit.” She steps in to hug Vincent, too, who stiffens at first, but then returns the hug more naturally than Yves would have expected. “And this is Vincent, right? Yves has told me all about you.” “Nice to meet you, Margot.” Vincent says. “Your apartment looks spectacular.”

And it does—Margot’s decorated it with string lights and HAPPY NEW YEAR! banners, strung in neat arcs from the ceiling; champagne flutes lined up on the fireplace mantel, 2017! spelled out in glittery block letters on the living room wall. Pale golden balloons bob up and down in the hallway; yellow roses are strewn neatly across the living room tables, the walls gilded with shining gold streamers.

“Thank you, thank you!” Margot says. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She leans in conspiratorially. “We need you for intel. We’ll trade you embarrassing things Yves did in college for embarrassing things he’s done at—”

“Please take my peace offering instead.” Yves says loudly, and then hands her the gift he’s holding. Margot laughs and squeezes his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to,” she says. “It’s good to see you again, Yves.” Then, to both of them: “Dinner will be ready in an hour. There are drinks in the iceboxes, so feel free to help yourselves.”

Then someone knocks, and she’s off again to meet the newcomers at the door. Yves muffles a cough into his sleeve, remembering too late he’d meant to ask her where to find the tissues. He’s sure there will be some napkins laying around.

The hour before dinner goes better than he expects. He introduces Vincent to a few of his friends—he runs into Mikhail, who thanks him for helping him move in and asks about his family, and Nora, who—like him—is going into business, and asks him and Vincent both about the work culture at Evertech. He talks to Joel, who congratulates him on the relationship and asks them how they met (they have a story prepared for this, of course) and Francesca, who—much to his embarrassment—says, “You really weren’t joking when you said he looks like a model,” to which Yves nods and smiles and pretends not to notice the questioning look he gets from Vincent.

He thinks his cold is manageable enough, too—he gets accustomed to turning sharply away from Vincent mid-conversation, to burying his face into his sleeve to stifle another harsh, wrenching sneeze, and to the (unnecessary, but thoughtful) bless you that sometimes follows—though all this talking is not exactly conducive towards his voice, and he finds himself clearing his throat incessantly and stopping mid-sentence to cough. If Vincent notices how his voice is getting hoarser as the night goes on—or how every stifle exacerbates his headache, if only slightly—he says nothing of it. 

It’s only when they’re all settling down for dinner—Vincent at his right side, pouring him a glass of water—that Erika arrives.

She looks just as he remembers her—beautiful and intimidating, with her hair down over her shoulder, curled just for the occasion, her eyeliner a large, graceful dark wing. She’s wearing a long sheath dress which hangs off from one shoulder, and Brendon is at her side, with his arm around her waist, wearing a suit with a boutonniere which matches her dress, and he says something that makes her laugh loudly and lean closer into his chest.

“Thadks,” Yves says, to Vincent, as he sets the pitcher back down. Maybe this will be fine if she doesn’t speak to him. She doesn’t have any real reason to start a conversation with him, anyways.

But then Erika takes a seat diagonally across from him.

“Yves,” Erika says, looking straight at him. “It’s been awhile.” He watches as her gaze slides over to Vincent. “And who’s this?”

“This is Vincent,” Yves says, clearing his throat. “Vincent, this is Erika.”

Really, the introduction is nothing more than a formality. Vincent must already know. 

Erika turns to look Vincent over. There’s something calculating in her expression, something that unsettles Yves. “Your coworker?”

“Boyfriend,” Vincent corrects her, with a small, economical smile that seems to fall just short of sincere. “But yes, coworker too. And you’re his ex? I think Yves might’ve mentioned you in passing.”

“Yes,” Erika says. “Only good things, I hope?” If it’s meant to be a joke, it comes out a little too pointed, but she laughs after it anyways. Yves wonders if there’s a way to stave off the headache he feels brewing. He needs a drink. “It’s great to meet you. I didn’t realize that Yves was seeing someone else.”

“We haved’t exactly kept in codtact, so I wouldn’t expect you to kdow,” Yves says to her. Then, remembering himself, he grins. “Mbuch to catch up on, right?”

“Yes, much,” she says, leaning her head onto Brendon’s shoulder. “Brendon and I were just talking about how easy it is to fall out of touch with old friends.”

“It really is, if you think about it,” Brendon says. “I think it has to do with how we’re all very different people from who we were in college, even though it’s barely been a year and a half. And with all of the job stuff, too, and all the moving away—it’s really only natural that people drift apart.”

Yves shuts his eyes briefly. It’s really only natural. As if that justifies everything—the cheating, the dishonesty, the lack of apology. Briefly, he wonders if Brendon even knows what she’s done, or she’s reframed things the way she likes to, rephrased cheating as unfortunate miscommunication over a falling out.

He used to think of it as one of her strengths, back when she’d done debate in college: that she was so good at redirection, that she knew exactly what she believed in, that she could frame things as favorably or unfavorably as she wanted. Now, that knowledge makes him feel sick to his stomach.

“On the contrary,” Vincent says, “I think it’s a matter of making time for the people you want to keep in your life.”

“That’s much easier said than done,” Brendon says.

“I didn’t say it was easy,” Vincent says.

Erika looks between them, her eyes flashing, and Yves looks away in favor of muffling a cough into his fist. His throat is really starting to hurt. Maybe he has been talking too much tonight.

“I guess we can agree to disagree,” Brendon says, as if that makes him the bigger person.

Or maybe he has it wrong, Yves realizes. Maybe Brendon knew exactly what Erika was doing, back then. Maybe he even encouraged her.

“Either way, it’s good to see everyone agaid,” he says. “Eved if we have changed.” There’s a slight, almost imperceptible tickle in his nose, but knowing this cold—knowing how many of his sneezes tonight have caught him off guard, often with barely enough time to cover—he’s not sure how long it will stay that way.

“So,” Erika says, deceptively nonchalant. “How did you two meet?” 

Yves is ready to give her the spiel he’s already given so many times tonight. “We met at work,” he starts. “I was assigned to Vincent’s team, so I—” His voice breaks on that note, and he clears his throat again, fighting the urge to wince. Has he sounded this rough since he got here? “So I relied on him a ton for… hh… those… hHEH… sorryIhavetohH… HEh’IZCHH-Eew! snf-! Ugh, snf-!” The sneeze is just as theatrically loud as usual, which, embarrassingly, prompts a few bless yous from further along the table.

He thinks he can feel the effects of the cold medicine starting to wear off—or perhaps his cold is just getting worse. Either way, all this sneezing must be making him lose his voice twice as fast.  “I relied on him a tod for those first few weeks, with all the… snf-! All the odboarding stuff. And then after that, I… hH-!” he really, really doesn’t want to sneeze again, but the tickle in his nose seems to have only gotten worse. “...figured I should thank him… f-for… hh-! for helping out…  sorry, I— hh!... HEh-hhHEH’IZSSCH-EEW!”

He can feel Erika’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t have time to interpret her expression before he’s twisting away from the three of them, coughing so harshly into the crook of his arm that he can feel his eyes beginning to well up with tears. His throat really hurts—every subsequent cough seems to scrape uncomfortably against his throat, making it feel impossibly sorer.  

He feels a hand settle on his own, feels someone interlace their fingers with his, though the incongruousness of the action doesn’t quite register to him immediately; at least, until—

“Save your voice,” Vincent says, softly. “I can take it from here.”

Something about his tone of voice startles Yves. He’s never heard Vincent sound like that before—uncharacteristically soft, despite the command.

“You’re sick?” Erika asks. 

Yves opens his mouth to respond, but Vincent beats him to it. “He’s a little under the weather.” 

“It’s - snf-! - a lot better than it sounds, I prombise,” Yves cuts in.

Vincent sighs. “What did I say about saving your voice?”

“He was saying something about onboarding?” Erika says, as an invitation for Vincent to continue.

Vincent nods. “Back then, we worked pretty closely for a few weeks, so Yves took me out to dinner as a way of thanking me for my help. That was in June, back when Starcruisers was just premiering in theaters.”

“That movie with Willow Alder and Denver Gill?” Brendon says.

“That’s right. Yves likes the same kind of sci-fi as I like, so we went together.” That’s a half-truth: they have talked briefly, but not extensively, about Starcruisers, and Yves does like sci-fi, but he’s not sure if he’s communicated that to Vincent before. “After that, we started seeing each other more often. Dinner, and a movie, every Friday after work. And when we ran out of movies to watch in theaters, he invited me over to his place.”

The smile Vincent has on now is worlds away from the strained, tight-lipped one he’d given Erika earlier. If Yves didn’t know better, he might have thought it looked sincere.

“If I’m honest, it became the thing I looked forward to the most every week. I mean, it’s not uncommon for me to meet people who are easy to get along with at work. That kind of surface-level agreeability—for lack of a better phrase—is generally well-valued in our field, to the extent that it hardly even feels like a choice. But even outside of work, even when it doesn’t benefit him, Yves is actually one of the most thoughtful people I know. He’s always thinking about others, even when it’s ill-advised. I’d imagine you know that too.”

At that, Vincent looks to Erika, as if he expects her to agree with him. But he doesn’t wait for her acknowledgement, either, to continue: “And he’s good at taking initiative, which saved me a lot of stress. He asked me out shortly after I realized I had feelings for him. We’ve been together since then.” 

Yves stares back at Vincent. His mouth feels suddenly dry.

He owes Vincent a free dinner over this. And a performance review so good that it earns him a raise.

“That’s very sweet,” Erika comments, with a pointed smile. “And I know where you’re coming from. I used to think some of the same things about him, too.”

Used to. Yves is sure Vincent must hear the unspoken remainder of the sentence: but of course, I’ve come to know better.

But Vincent merely nods. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Just a sec, I should give my presents to Margot before I forget,” Erika says. She reaches under the table for the packages she’s set down, both of them wrapped nicely in silver wrapping paper and sealed off with a neatly tied bow. Yves watches her leave. He’ll have to remember to thank Vincent later.

“Erika was telling me she doesn’t know why you don’t text her more,” Brendon says.

Yves stares at him, disbelieving. 

“We dod’t exactly have a lot to talk about,” he says.

“Really? She told me she wanted to stay friends.”

Yves knows this, of course. It had been his idea to not stay friends after the breakup. He missed her, then, of course, but it was the best decision out of several unfavorable options. 

“I ndeeded space,” Yves says, muffling a cough into his sleeve. “I’m sure you cad guess why.”

Erika reemerges from the kitchen, though she doesn’t take a seat just yet. “What are we talking about?”

“Whether Yves is open to being friends with you,” Vincent says.

Yves’s problem is this: if she announced, now, to everyone, that she was breaking up with Brendon and getting back together with Yves, there’s a part of him that would seriously consider being with her again. There’s a part of him that misses her, even still. There’s a part of him that would stop at nothing to have a semblance of that same closeness, that familiarity, that trust. 

But there’s a part of him, too, that knows better.

“Oh. That’s a good segue, actually. I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Erika says, lowering her voice and leaning forward. This can’t possibly turn out well, Yves thinks. “Do you remember that night with Brendon?”

“Of course.” As if he could forget, even if he wanted to.

“I had already been meaning to break up with you for awhile,” Erika says. “I was just waiting for the right time.”

Yves nods. She’d said that back then, too.

“But then I got drunk,” she says, “and I made decisions I shouldn’t have made, even before I broke things off officially.” She meets his eyes, now, with a frown. She’s always been beautiful, but something about the lighting tonight makes her look so beautiful it feels cruel. “What I’m getting at is that I didn’t mean to lie to you. I always meant to end things properly.”

Yves stares at her.

He really, really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

“I’b sorry,” he says, with an apologetic smile. He gets to his feet, pushes in his chair. “If you could hold that thought. I really have to go blow my ndose.”

Then he just about bolts—he leaves the dining table and heads out into the hallway, leaving the three of them still there. He’s been to Margot’s apartment before, so luckily, he knows that the bathroom is just off to the right. Thankfully, it happens to be unoccupied. He slips in and shuts the door, turns the lock, turns on the light.

[Part 3]

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1133: Engradé Peach!~ (Super Smash Bros Ultimate X Sonic)

10:23 a.m. at the Smash Mansion's Dining Room......

Hat Kid: (Places her Last Card Down on a Pile of Other Cards) Uno out! (Smiles Brightly) I win!~

Shadow: (Smiles Softly at Hat Kid While Gently Ruffling the Top of her Hair Beside Him) Very well done, little sister.

Mario: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Yes, good game! It's been so long since I've played this game, I forgot how fun it really is.

Sonic: (Smiles Brightly) Right? I'm happy to see ONE of us here remember to bring us his pack of Uno cards today~

Shadow: (Gives Sonic a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Are we seriously coming back to this?

Sonic: (Casually Shrugs) Hey, I'm just saying. Maybe if you had Uno like the rest of us beforehand, I wouldn't have to be on your case about it.

Shadow: (Starts Glaring at Sonic) And MAYBE you'll be disintegrated into ashes if you don't drop it within a few seconds.

Sonic: Good ahead. (Starts Snickering) As if you could even hit me.

Shadow: (Forms a Yellow Light Energy From the Palm of his Hand) Wanna bet?

Mario: (Gives Both his Sons a Stern, Fatherly Glare) Enough, you two! No one is getting disintegrated under your mother and I watch.

Hat Kid: (Nodded in Agreement While Pouting) Yeah!.....Wait. Where Is mommy?

Sonic: Yeah, shouldn't she be up right about now?

Mario: (Grabs his Chin While Thinking) She told me she would be out in a minute before I left the room....(Gets Up From his Seat) I should probably go back in there and see if she's o-(Eyes and Mouth Suddenly Begins to Widened at What is in Front of Him Right Now) kayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy......

The trio starts to mimic their father's expression a bit as they lay witness to their mother, Princess Peach, wearing a blue, wide hat with a red rose sitting on one side and a white feather stitched on the other, blue high boots, blue dress tailed jacket, a red dress shirt, and bright white pants.

Peach: (Happily Greets her Family) Bonjour, my sweet, loving famille!~

Sonic: Mom, is that really you?

Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow in a Bit of Confusion) And were you speaking French just now?

Peach: (Happily Nodded) Yep-Yep!~ I was going through my clothes in the closest till I stumbled upon this beauty and I am sooooo glad it fits me, cause that means I don't have to look aimlessly for a costume for Halloween this year!~ (Happily Jumps Around and Squeals For a Few Seconds Before Calming Herself Down) Okay, okay. My mind's already set on this, but what do you guys think? (Starts Turning Herself From Side to Side a Bit) Does it look good, bad, decent? Good enough to be trick or treating worthy at least?

Sonic: (Smiles Brightly) Relax, mom. You look great, really!

Hat Kid: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) And very pretty!~

Shadow: (Smiles a Little).Don't forget heroic as well.

Mario is still struck in awe at how his girlfriend currently looks before the snapping sound of Shadow's finger manage to bring him back to reality.

Mario: HUH! OH! U-um.... Yeah! Yeah, it looks great on you, dear. And se-I-i MEAN! Beautiful! You also beautiful i mean!.....Definitely what I said.

Peach: (Stares at her Man for a Brief Second Before Forming the Most Devious Smirk She Has Ever Mustered Before) Really now?~

Mario: Yes. Y-You're as beautiful as you always were. (Finally Starts Blushing) In so many way~

Peach: (Playfully Clasps her Hands Together) Well, I am oh so flattered you think very highly of me, dear!~ But tell me something. (Slowly and Seductively Walks Closer to Mario) Does this outfit I'm wearing in particular make heart skip a beat? Make you near speechless? Make you fall head over heels for me all over again?~

Mario: ........You mean.....H-Hypothetically....speaking or-

Peach: Or perhaps!~ (Happily Scoops Mario Up into her Arms, Holding him Like a Bride) It makes you think or maybe even swoon over the possibility of me saving you again one of these days while protecting you at all cost, in my arms~ Does that sound like something you would love to happen, Mario honey?~

Mario: .............................................Sí, mamma. (Notices his Kids Are Still Present Before Turning into a Blushing Mess) I-I MEAN, YES, mommy- I MEAN, momma- I-I MEAN, ma'am! Ma'am. That's what I meant: ma'am. Nothing more than that, just ma'am!

Sonic: Riiiiiight. You good, pops? You almost look more redder than your shirt right now.

Hat Kid: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) And why do keeping mommy "mommy" for?

Mario: (Quickly Puts on a Sheepish Smile on his Face) I-It's nothing, you two, really. Your father is just being real silly right now and......(Notices Peach's Staring at Him With a Playful Grin on her Face Before Glaring) You.

Peach: Me!~

Mario: That look....(Shakingly Points at his Princess) Y-You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Peach: (Place her Finger on the Side on her Cheek While Smiling Innocently) Perhaps~

Mario: Why!?

Peach: (Giggles Softly While Hugging and Rocking Mario Around Back and Forth) Because I love you to kingdom come and I wanted to see if I get a raise out of you on the cuteness scale!~ (Boops on Mario's Nose)

Mario: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Yet again with this? Honey, I told you a million times that nothing about me is cute!!

Shadow: He's right, mother. Father's not cute.

Mario: See? Shadow agrees with-

Shadow: He adorable.

Sonic: Yep.

Hat Kid: (Nodded in Agreement) Mmmhmm.

Mario: (Eyes and Mouth Widens Once More in Complete Disbelief Before Facepalming Himself and Groaning in Defeat) Mamma mia.....You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?

??????: 'Fraid not, Momma's boy!

Mario turns to see Bowser smirking at him.

Bowser: Hell, if you ask me, I think the nickname is much more suiting for a mustache shrimp like you. (Let's Out an Evil Laugh Before Causally Bumping his Shoulder Onto Peach's) Am I right, babe? Or am I-

Peach angrily points her rapier at Bowser's chin in silence with a darken look in his eyes.

Bowser: (Immediately Gets Startled Before Backing Away) On second thought, nevermind! I just remembered I got stuff to....do. (Quickly Runs Away for Dear Life)

Mario: (Turns Back to Peach) Thanks for that, dear.

Peach: Anytime, honey. I thought of a way to make it up to you completely if you want. Like......

Peach then starts whispering into Mario's ear. It wasn't long for the italian plumber to widen his eyes yet again.

Mario: Really? A-Are you sure?

Peach: (Giggles Softly) Of course~ It's the least I can do for making all flustered earlier. And besides....(Puts on a Seductive Smirk on her Face) A hero must always give their fair prince the love and nurture they so much deserve, Am I right?~ (Gives Mario a Big Kiss on the Cheek)

Mario: (Awe Struck by Peach's Kiss and Offer Before Turning Back to the Trio) Kids, your mother and I are going back to room for a bit.

Peach: (Happily Skips Away While Still Carrying Mario in her Hands) See you in an hour or two!~

Shadow: (Couldn't Proprehand What has Just Happened With a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Well. With that happened....(Turns Back to Hat Kid and Sonic) Who wants start a new game of Uno?

Hat Kid: (Happily Raises Her Hand) I do!

Sonic: (Starts Getting Himself Up From his Chair Before Stretching) Sorry, no can do. Gotta meet back with Amy today for our daily cuddles

Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow) You two arranged cuddle sessions?

Sonic: Uh duh. Obviously. We've been dating for a long time now, it was bound to happen soon or later. And besides......(Starts Blushing a Little While Rubbing the Back of his Quills Back and Forth) Ames' a really good cuddler and junk...... (Points at Shadow and Hat Kid) Don't tell her I said that though.

Hat Kid: (Giggles Softly)

Shadow: Don't worry. We won't say anything.

Sonic: (Starts Grinning Again) Much obliged. You guys enjoy the rest of your Uno game. See yaaaa! (Starts Running Off in a Speed of Light)

Shadow: ('Sigh') Be cautious of romance going forward, sis. You'll either end up as overly dorky as our entire family.....

The duo hears the sound of wailing as they turns to see Bowser covering his face down on the table with Ludwig sitting right next to him.

Ludwig: Father, you're going to have to move on sooner or later.

Bowser: ('Sniff') Easy for you to say! How can I move on from Peach when she's so fricking COOOHOOHOOHOOOOL!~ (Starts Burst Out Crying)

Ludwig: (Sighs While Gently Rubbing his Father's Shell) There, there.

Hat Kid: (Starts Giggling at Bowser's Dispense)

Shadow: .....Or as helplessly pathetic as King of All Koopas apparently. (Slowly Shakes his Head) Embarrassing.....

@bestpony666

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@caleb13frede

@ma-lemons

[alolanrain]

some Aurafangshipping HC bc I love them and a little dash of Delia/Giovanni bc I’m in the mood for somewhat redeemed old men. 

\ Ash gets his green thumb from Delia and has forbidden Raihan from touching any of his plants unless under dire situations. 

\ Raihan likes to woodwork in his free time, usually he reads but when he’s to fidgety he’s gotta use his hands to do something. so woodworking. he’s kinda has a bartering system with Dawn and Zoey going on. 

\ he makes Ash a greenhouse for the plants that can’t fit into the house since there's a shit ton of them. he tries to put down a no more plant rule but he came home from work to see five new ones on the kitchen counter. 

\ Raihan also makes Ash a big thing so all his starter plants, like clippings and such, could be in vials of water together in one place. not like how they were before hand, spread across the house and a good chunk of them forgotten since there's so many. 

\ Raihan can cook but he can’t bake, which is good because Ash can bake but he can’t cook. 

\ Raihan comes from almost a military family, rose not including, so he’s up with the sun even on his days off. unlike Ash who stays in bed until well in to the afternoon if he doesn’t have any plans for the day. 

\ Ash is a tea enjoyer at heart though he mainlines coffee on the daily since he’s used to drinking it while travelling. Raihan's slowly been working him off it usually when Ash ask’s for a cup of coffee mid-fucking-day and he offers tea instead. Raihan is the major coffee drinker because he can’t mentally keep up with his much younger gym trainee’s. 

\ when their together, Pikachu is always on Raihan’s shoulders. solely for the fact that Raihan is ridiculously taller. 

\ Ash is a country music enjoyer while Raihan is more techno. so they compromise and make a playlist with softer songs for when their home and need background noise. it’s not unusual for other gym leaders to walk into the backyard and year a country song switch to lofi after it’s done spill from the open windows.

\ Ash and Raihan’s house is on the outskirts of Hammerlocke, past the walls and deeper into the countryside. they are at the end of a very stereotypical Americanesque white suburb street and have the biggest property, though their house is very modern and large compared to the other two story houses. 

\ Ash tries to make friends with the neighborhood kids on his walks with Pikachu almost every morning, saying hi to them at the bus stop as they head to school, but they don’t really greet him back. not because they don’t want to but because their parents don’t trust Ash. 

\ they trust Riahan, which Ash can get behind because he is the towns famous Gym Leader, but it get’s annoying quick when they keep implying that Ash is a maid of all things when they show up on their shared porch steps. 

\ just like the neighborhood, very stereotypical neighbors as well. they even have two different pastors living in the neighborhood as well. every house is apart of an HOA while Ash and Raihan are the outliers, probably why they don’t want their kids near Ash. Hypocrites. 

\ The front door is always locked but the back isn’t, so a lot of the league members that are close to Ash and Riahan just unlock the fence door and go that route, completely ignoring the front. they’ve had the police called to their house a lot because of it. 

\ Raihan actually likes rougher fabrics since they tend to with hold up against the weather effects he finds himself in multiple times a day but he switches into a pair of softer clothes before heading home since Ash has a thing against rougher textures. it’s funny because he tries so hard not to touch Raihan’s chest in the morning when giving the taller a goodbye kiss, and every morning he ends up having to touch the others shirt to get a good angle. making gagging noises when they pull back from each other. 

\ despite being quiet wider in shoulder length and older then Raihan, Giovanni is absolutely terrified of Ash’s lover. Delia immediately gave her approval once she saw Raihan tower over her husband at the first family event Ash dragged him too. scared the shit out of Lance as well and Delia basically told Ash if he doesn’t marry Raihan then she will. 

\ Raihan isn’t a fan of Professor Oak, preferring to work with either Tracey or Gary than the old man, but keeps his comments to himself since Ash still tolerates him. the old coot has done some pretty not okay things to Gary and Daisy when they were younger but Ash assured him that Gary and Him terrorized Oak back when they were younger. 

\ out of the two, Raihan has only met Burnet despite staying in Alola for two weeks at a time during the start of Galar’s off season. it’s not for lack of trying on both men parts, it just seems like the universe doesn’t want them to meet. Raihan doesn’t question it when Ash finds that particularly funny.

\ it takes a long while for Raihan to even begin to get used to the really small legendary and mythical's. for his comfort Ash had made a no godly pokemon in the house rule unless under dire situations like one needed to be stitched up or to hide them from poachers. 

\ it’s a sight for the neighborhood to see Zacian getting washed and sprayed down with a hose by Ash, all the while Raihan is either seen in the front window or standing in the open front door. 

\ dinner party’s are a big thing to them since Ash and Raihan didn’t grow up with a social family. all are welcomed to bring extra dishes or other things or show up empty handed. they just want everyone to bring good vibes to dinner. 

\ Piers and Gordie share one out of the two shared bedrooms, the other is for Ash’s moms or visiting friends, and it’s such a mess inside from the two oposit styles that both Riahan and Ash refuse to clean anywhere inside. 

[windrockman]

* muse favorites: preferences

Aeolus

Animal: - (( Cats. He doesn't want to say it aloud, but he does have cat-themed accessories, the most obvious one being a little mint-green cat mascot charm that's hanging from his phone…and he does have a pet cat. As for dogs, his family has two really huge dogs for pets/guards, and they absolutely love him to bits, which confuses him because he knows that they know that he's a cat person. He...doesn't mind the attention from them though. Flowers: - (( White lily. Scent: - (( Vanilla. I-It's not because it smells like sweets or ice cream or cakes or anything! Coffee: - (( …Bitter bean water. He'll tolerate it only if it has plenty of milk and sugar in it. And probably flavored with chocolate, or oranges…or both…or if prepared as coffee jelly… Tea: - (( He can brew the stuff, yes, and he knows which tea pairs well with what. It's also his drink of choice to go with his food most of the time. For a specific type, he prefers a strawberry-rose blend. Drink: - (( He tends to be a bit picky with what he'll drink as he has an aversion to commercially-made drinks and energy drinks. That aside, he can't (or rather 'won't') say 'no' to strawberry milk, or juice…or milkshakes…or even (homemade) soda…Even better if it's an Italian soda float. Alcoholic Beverage: - (( None; he can't drink that stuff yet. Besides, with the negative effects that come with it, he wouldn't be interested in it at all. Food: - (( Aeolus is a light eater; he can't stomach too much heavy, greasy food in one sitting. Other than that, he's quite fond of French onion soup, the slow-simmered kind, and (egg/green salad) sandwiches cut into small servings. Interestingly enough, he likes fried potatoes as well, and chicken potato chowder, and chicken nuggets…He also likes pot roast beef, but mainly because of the roasted potatoes. Dessert: - (( He will never, ever admit it, but he always has room for dessert, both in heart and in tummy. As for what kind, Western-style desserts may seem like an obvious choice with him, but he's fond of Eastern-style ones just as well. Be it a Victoria sandwich cake or a strawberry shortcake or red bean pancake sandwiches or sesame balls or almond jelly, he'll have them. He'll be much happier if dessert is made with strawberries, however. In fact, he'd be content with just a bowl of strawberries and cream. Or an Eton Mess. Or a strawberry tart. Article of Clothing: - (( Most, if not all of his clothes are tailor-made to fit, and done in conservative styles. He's not fond of clothes that reveal too much skin; the most bare you'll see from him are his arms in Summer. Dress shirts, waistcoats and trousers compose his usual go-to outfit. He has to have something green in his daily look though. Candy: - (( Strawberry hard candies, individually-wrapped or in tins; even the cheap kind. However, no gum or any chewy candies. He might be a little more lenient towards the latter, but not with gum as he hates to be seen chewing for a prolonged period of time in public. Left- or Right-handed?: - (( Right-handed. Sloppy or Neat Writing?: - (( Very neat. Hell will freeze over before he'd write in a sloppy manner. Clean or Messy Home?: - (( Clean, of course. He cannot stand being in messy places…Unless he absolutely has to. Shower in Morning or Night?: - (( Night, as there's an added bonus of having time to sit down and soak in a warm bath afterwards. Tasks Done Early or Last Minute?: - (( Early, as much as possible. But, with all the work (either from school or from ******) getting piled on him, increasing everyday, it's just unavoidable that some might get done at the last minute; he hates it. Love Language?: - (( Either spending quality time, or gift-giving. Although, they could be summed up to acts of service as he would spend time keeping one company as necessary or doing favors that are within his ability (and reason). In fact, if he can't do something himself, he'll go find someone or something that can. Believe in Love at First Sight?: - (( No. Not interested.

[smileymoth]

Some random numbers for the oc's asks (answer with whoever you want)

5, 19, 27

FRANNYYYY thank you <3 i'll answer with college au etho and joel since i started to think about them for some reason rn because i kind of have a coherent storyline brewing (not really) and they're literally just my ocs at this point. i've hurt etho too much for him to be not an oc

note added later: FUCK IT GET BEAMED !!!!!! IM ADDING CLEO AND BDUBS BC I CAN!!!!

context: joel and etho are roommates, cleo and bdubs live together but arent dating . joel and bdubs are in architecture, etho is in comp. sci and cleo is a textile/fashion student in another school entirely.

5. how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

Etho: she's more practical than anything. I don't think he has shopped for new clothes in like, 2 years tho, if it fits it's whatever, if it doesn't have a hole its whatever... obvs she wears mostly black/white/greens/greys, maybe the occasional dark blue? i think he would benefit from some pink clothing. maybe Cleo can provide those. Cleo would absolutely give him some of her old clothing and tailor it to fit him or sth. like florals and stuff. <3 cute! I do want to say Etho dresses like a reject emo kid but without the band shirts since he feels insecure about wearing graphic things since he feels like it brings attention to him. :3 also BLACK RIPPED SKINNY JEANS are a given. also fuckass cargo shorts

Joel: imagine 2014 grunge tumblr. Purely Aesthetic. would wear an extra belt if he could be bothered. he probably has about 10 plaids. He LOVES green accents. He absolutely owns a pair of knock off Tripp Pants. I think he thrifts mostly. Probably stole from his fathers closet too. Too many band tshirts. 50% of them he's never listened to. But they look cool. He probably hates Guns n Roses but wears the Tee anyway bc it looks cool. Absolutely a recovering scene+emo (scenemo?) kid who is never recovering. Mostly wears sweats around the house, sometimes will just walk around in his underwear. Etho doesn't like it because he gets flustered but gets used to it after the first semester of living together.

Cleo: She's a textile student/tailor so she sows most of her clothes herself. She likes crop tops and blazers and flowy skirts with floral patterns. Most of her clothes are made with comfort AND aesthetic in mind since, yknow, she does make them herself so she can choose both. Honestly I feel like she would learn more toward earthy colours, not so much black, I'd say maybe more of the ''kinderwhore'' aesthetic??? Grungey??? Maybe??? Oh and you KNOW she's dressing herself in velvet for special occasions. She doesn't wear too many accessories, just a good pair of earrings and simple necklace. Maybe a choker.

Bdubs: bro has no style he's just out there in messy wrinkly clothing that he found from the ground he does NOT care at all. Somehow even Etho is more put together than he is. I think the most noticable item from his wardrobe is the pink hoodie bc obvs he has a pink hoodie. duhh. Yeah he just doesn't care.

19. are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

Etho: i don't think he can get angry really, more annoyed or irritated out of anxiety ......... mostly if plans change or someone forces him to do something he will get a bit nasty.

Joel: you can piss this guy off with nearly everything. You can place the mug 1 inch too close to the edge of the desk and he will shout. <3 He has issues. I love him. He knows exactly which buttons to press to hurt the other person if he wants it to hurt. He doesn't even necessarily have to mean it. He's just awful

Cleo: she doesn't get angry too quickly, but they will get annoyed fairly quick. If you're argumentative they will Not like you. cough joel cough. she will snark her way out of getting angry tho, the other person usually stops beforehand

Bdubs: He gets angry and calms down in the matter of like 30 seconds so it's whatever. He mostly plays it up to be annoying and dramatic. <3

27. if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

Etho: I think he hated PE way too much because he was a weak boy, he doesn't seek out to watch sports but he Will watch football with Joel. Like I can't for the life of me imagine that thing enjoying any sports. Maybe hiking but he's gona die from iron deficiency dizziness LOL . he can't do skating because his balance and feet suck, cant skii because he sucks, he cant run so he sucks at football and basketball and hockey, basically he sucks and hes gonna die . the only sport he can do is . uh . like. tennis. yeah. sulgpall :thumbsup:

Joel: Bro loves football. he probably still plays it even in college. loves watching it too. forces Etho to watch it. He's got mega calves from playing lmao. he's a pretty fast runner. and he's short so. lol

Cleo: doesn't care for sports but she doesn't mind playing volleyball and tennis <3 she WOULD however go skating each winter when the rinks open !!!!

Bdubs: played basketball in middle+high school, will watch it (and football) on tv but he's not exactly the most enthusiastic sports fan. i think he would go to the gym for funzies tho. :) perhaps he can take cleo with him too and they both do weights or sth

I DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT SPORT WHRUSDFUG im so bad at it so i dont care

this got so long goodriddens

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: Things are starting to pick up but Lee’s still playing low key.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The book club let out on Friday and you quietly packed up your fraying copy of Nabokov, happy you would finally be able to throw it on the shelf and forget about it. As you pulled on your jacket and hooked your bag over your shoulder, Andre, the star of the club, approached you. He wasn’t as curt as Nora but he still made you feel daft.

“Hey, you like the book?” he asked.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” you answered, “I never really read anything like it before.”

“It’s definitely no Secret Garden,” he quipped.

“Oh, but I read the Bell Jar already, that’s the next book, right?” you countered.

“But did you really read it?” he challenged, “did you soak in the depth of the words?”

“I’m sure my second reading will help with that,” you said plaintively, “I think even, I’ll enjoy it even more.”

“It is more of a woman’s book,” he said tritely, “where are you going now?”

You went to the door and he followed you casually. You walked down the hall and shrugged as your sole tapped on the wooden floorboards.

“Oh…” you stopped yourself from saying no where, “actually, someone’s expecting me.”

“Oh ha, really? I saw those flyers they hand out. That’s one of the tips, say you’re being expected so the creep doesn’t follow you,” he rolled his eyes, “I was just asking, I’m not tryna pick you up or anything.”

You came out in the early spring dusk and stopped at the top of the stone steps. “I know you weren’t, I only… I am supposed to be somewhere.”

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a reading partner--”

A honk came and cut off his invitation. You glanced over at the black and white cruiser then back at Andre. You gave a weak smile.

“Maybe,” you answered, “sorry, that’s my ride.”

“So you’re dad’s a cop?” he wondered.

“My dad?” you shook your head, “he’s… a uh, friend.”

“Friend,” Andre echoed and another honk came, “he’s sure impatient.”

“Sorry, I should go.”

“See ya next week,” he called after you as you stumbled down the stairs.

“Yeah, see ya,” you tossed over your shoulder.

You approached the cruiser and Lee got out to open the door. You got in and waited for him to settle on the other side of the seat. You watched Andre stroll down the pavement and catch up with Van.

“You didn’t have to honk, I saw you,” you said quietly.

“Who was that then?” Lee asked as he steered onto the street.

“Just some guy from the club,” you replied.

“So, shakes?” he asked.

“Can we stop by my dorm first?” you hugged your bag anxiously.

“Why’s that?”

“I want to give you back those clothes, I can’t wear them,” you said.

“What? They’re a gift,” he furrowed his brow but you looked away before he could glance back at you as he stopped at the sign.

“It’s too much and they… they won’t fit me,” you said.

“Well, did you even try them on? You’re young, it’s the new style, I thought--”

“But why would you even think to buy me anything?” you interjected. 

He inhaled and said nothing. His breath rose like a growl as he passed the road that led to your dorm. He switched gears and headed for the south exit of the campus.

“Don’t interrupt me. Ever,” he snarled, “and I was being nice, honey. It’s nothin’ bad, just a gift ‘cause I thought it’d look pretty on ya.”

“It’s not that I’m not, er, grateful, I only--”

“No thank you, no nothing,” he moped, “you really hurt me, girl.”

“No, it’s not like that. I just--”

“Just what? I saw you back there, tryna act like you don’t know me in front of that boy,” he grumbled, “‘cause I’m old, right?”

“We were talking, I was just saying goodbye,” you returned, “I don’t know why you’re being like this-- Can you please turn around and just take me home?”

“You promised me a date,” he huffed, “so we’re going… next time you can wear your new clothes.”

“Date?” you sputtered, “Sheriff, please, I want to go home.”

“My name’s Lee, honey,” he purred, “I wanna hear it on your tongue.”

“Wha--” he snaked his arm over and slid his hand onto your leg, just beneath your bag.

“Go on and say it,” he squeezed, “please.”

You swallowed and stiffened as you stared down at your lap.

“Lee,” you eked out.

“Good girl,” he snickered.

“Please, I don’t want a shake, I want to go--”

“I ain’t done nothing, honey, don’t be so dramatic,” he drew his hand away, “have I?”

You were quiet. He hadn’t really done anything more than be a bit grumpy. The touch was nothing, wasn’t it? Just a friendly gesture, trying to calm you down. And he bought you nice things and expected nothing but you to like it. It really seemed like you’d done something wrong the more you thought about it.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Nah, don’t be, I’m happy as long as you’re here,” he turned off of campus and sped up, “I read that book, you know? Lolita. Made patrol a bit easier. I haven’t read a book for years. It was… interesting.”

“You read it?” you flinched.

“Oh, yeah, it was… the man, Humbert, messin’ with a child, that’s some sickness there,” Lee mulled as he kept his eyes on the road, “don’t you think?”

“Um, yeah,” you answered, “I think it was also about, um, you know, an unreliable narrator and how stories unfold differently for people. How we can experience the same thing but not in the same way… I don’t know.”

“Hmm, yeah, that’s probably it,” he said, “but I just thought, that’s awful. You know, we’re adults, you and me. How old are ya, again?”

“I’ll be nineteen this summer, sir,” you replied.

“See, girls here can marry at sixteen,” he said, “but no twelve year old gettin’ hitched.”

“Oh, well,” you murmured, uncomfortable by his rambling, “can I try the vanilla this time?”

“Vanilla? Sure,” he smiled over the wheel, “think I’ll stick to strawberry, I like the sweet stuff.”

📚

The radio show came to an end and you fumbled with your empty cup. The dread still lingered in your chest. You counted the minutes until you could go home. The milkshake settled like a stone and added to your queasiness. Lee put his cup on his other side and yawned.

“Vanilla good?” he asked.

“Not bad,” you answered as he took the cup from you, “it’s late, hm?”

“Not that late,” he slid across the seat as the radio host picked up after the outro, “so you makin’ friends then?”

“Some,” you said, “just talking about schoolwork and, um, books.”

He was close, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. He pushed his arm over your shoulders and let his hand hang down above your chest. You went rigid and tried to sidle away.

“Sheriff?” you croaked.

“Aw, come on, honey, ain’t nothin’ wrong, just getting close, it’s cold, ain’t it?” his other hand came up and caressed your chin, “I like spending time with you… not havin’ to worry about my radio or criminals, just you.”

“I don’t… I think…” you grabbed his wrist, “I thought…”

“I’m just being nice, I’ll admit, I’ve grown a bit sweet on ya. You’re so pretty and that,” he slipped from your grasped and framed your chin and turned your head, “am I hurtin’ ya?”

“N-no, but I…” your lip quivered. 

Was this how it happened? Maybe every girl felt like this the first time a man was near. You didn’t know, you couldn’t. You stared at him wide-eyed as he leaned in and his breath grazed your lips. You smelled the sugary strawberry flavour.

“This hurt?” he asked as his lips brushed yours.

“No,” you gulped as he pulled you to him.

“And this?” he didn’t wait for an answered before he kissed you.

He pressed his lips to your and sucked on your bottom lip. His teeth nipped lightly and he shoved his tongue against the creased of your mouth until you opened it. You garbled as he filled your mouth and hugged you tighter. You were terrified and confused by the suddenness of it all.

You grunted and pushed on his chest. You turned your head away and gasped as you shoved him harder and he relented. His hand slipped to the bottom of your neck as he looked at you in disappointment. 

“What’sa matter?” he asked.

“I… I wanna go home, it’s late,” you whispered.

“Oh honey, don’t be scared, it’s a date, I’m just kissin’ ya good night.”

“I never… said it was a date,” you mumbled.

“And why not?” he pressed, “you’re an adult, I am too.”

“I don’t… know,” you uttered, “I never… never been on a date so I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“I didn’t mean to confuse you, I thought you knew,” he said, “a girl like you, I thought you had plenty of dates.”

You shook your head and chewed your lip. You stared at your shoes and wriggled away from him. You ran your fingertips along your jawline as you huddled against the door.

“Please take me home,” you breathed.

“I didn’t mean nothing by it, I just think you’re very sweet and… beautiful,” he reached out and took your hand gently, “I can go slow.”

“I just don’t know,” you didn’t pull your hand away as he held it.

“Ah, I get it, I’m old, I know it, I ain’t stupid,” he sighed.

“I don’t care about that,” you withdrew and wrung your hands in your lap, “I’m… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” he repeated.

“That I never… That I don’t know about all that,” you confessed, “but I don’t wanna think about that now.”

“Can I see you tomorrow then?” he asked, “I wanna see your new clothes.”

“Sheriff,” you said.

“Lee,” he corrected sharply.

“Lee,” you hissed, “please, can you take me home?”

“Well, you just needa ask nicely is all,” he pushed himself in front of the wheel and jolted the whole car with the movement, “let’s get ya there all safe and sound and you can rest up for tomorrow, huh?”

“I gotta study tomorrow,” you argued.

“You can,” he assured you, “you come study at mine and I’ll make you a nice home cooked dinner, how about that?”

You sniffed and pouted, “sure, if you take me home.”

[swtki]

Cedric Diggory NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

A/N: I’m gonna be working on more headcannon stuff like this, so follow me if you want to see them when they are posted!

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL SEX (F RECIEVING), MENTIONS OF PUBLIC SEX, 18+ ONLY

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I think Ced won’t hesitate to clean his partner up. Just a warm rag and quick wipe. Sometimes Ced will pass out as soon as he hits the mattress, but most times he’ll hold his naked body to yours and talk until you fall asleep. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of your body is your lips, for sure. He loves to watch them wrap around things, even when you put his finger into your mouth it drives him mental. His favorite part of himself is hands, he has fairly large hands so everything in them looks small. He loves that when he holds your waist its like his hands were meant to be there. Not to mention his long fingers, one hand can do so many wonders. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I honestly don’t see him as someone who loves anything to do with cum. He would be more than happy to wear a condom while you’re dating, because that way he can make sure you enjoy it without the worries of unprotected sex. I also can see him not wanting to go raw because so many things could go wrong, but if you’re on birth control he will definitely be persuaded to pull out. Once he pulls out the first time he is utterly hooked and loves cumming on your stomach while you lay there on your back, looking all fucked out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not to say that Cedric secretly wants to explore public sex, however I am saying every time you two go out hes thinking of railing you in an alley against a brick wall. He loves public affection in a sfw way so I think he would be eager to explore nsfw public stuff. Now this all being said, he doesn’t ask you for a long time though, until you’re walking home from the shops and he starts to kiss you because god you look so gorgeous in the soft lighting, and then the kiss gets more intense. Then, he basically says fuck it and asks you if he can eat you out on the wall.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Like I said in Cedrics headcannon post, I doubt he lost his virginity with anyone other than Cho when they were maddly in love. When he meets you he wants to be nothing less than perfect. When things started to get serious in your relationship he swallowed his pride and looked up sex tips because he was worried he wasn’t experienced enough. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. No doubt about it. He loves how accessible it is for you, he can rub your clit, he can be chest to chest and thrust into you, he can be hypnotized by your perfect tits, it has everything. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Theres times where he kills the moment because he makes a joke in between thrusts, but more often than not hes got his head in the game. It will always start of playful and innocent with Cedric, but as soon as hands start roaming, he gets focused on the task at hand.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t shaven, but tidy for sure. Just a nice little bit at the base and he’s groomed. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cedric loves nothing more than to brush the hair out of your face and stare into your eyes while your blissed out. Also he loves kissing and touching even before clothes come off. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can see Cedric having a pretty high sex drive and sometimes you have to tap out for the night because your body can only take so much, so he’ll for sure be rubbing one out in the bathroom as soon as you fall asleep. He doesn’t mind of course, he’d rather you be comfortable even if that means he has to jerk off in the shower to the memory of twenty minutes prior.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I thoroughly believe that Cedric Diggory has a praise kink. He loves nothing more than growling “So fucking perfect, my perfect fucking girl” into your ear during sex. I also think he has a roleplay kink, because you dressed up as a nurse for halloween and he was in another dimension.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As I said previously, Cedric likes the idea of walls. However, I think he much prefers the bed or floor of your room. It just feels like you two are the only ones in the world and he cant deny how much of an angel you look like while surrounded by his soft white sheets. He would settle for a car, but your home is much better.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing is his number one movement to start things off, so I think just kissing him would make him ready to go. I can see him having a thing for lip biting, especially when you’re reading or doing some other innocent task.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If its something you don’t like, he won’t ever do it. He draws the line at bodily injury and excretory body fluids, Cedrics not hardcore like that. Wouldn’t mind choking you but he could never slap you or hurt you in any other way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cedric prefers giving, he feels bad because he takes so long to finish so he always leaves it up to you. He is an absolute got at eating coochie though, he pays attention to what you do and don’t like. And he would honestly eat you out anywhere. Like sometimes he just drops to his knees and hikes your leg up. His eyes when he looks up at you tho....fuck.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely depends on the moment but I think most of the time he’s sensual and slow. He wants the world to stop and for it to only be your bodies moving in sync with each other, and especially so he can look into your eyes while he gets you closer and closer to orgasm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves the whole rose petal romantic 2 hour long sex thing but will rip off your underwear in a closet to eat you out if he can.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He only takes risks by asking about something. He would always get your consent before anything else happens, so he knows worst you could do is say no. That being said, if you ask him 97% of the time he’s on board. Public sex took some convincing but he was in love with it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I just think he’s ready to eat pussy 24/7 despite how hard he is. He’s horny all the time (in spirit if not physically) so I think he would go for multiple rounds. Though he will eventually get tired in one position, so you end up switching through 50 different positions in the span of the hour.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toys Cedric uses on his partner are handcuffs at most. He prefers to use his skill because after all, he’s the one who should be making you feel that good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Cedric isn’t the tease, you are. He wants you but simply can’t take you from behind during potions class, so he rests his hand on your thigh. He secretly loves how cocky you get, and secretly you love how turned on he is from your legs.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Listen to me: breathy moans. He’ll get so close to your ear and start whisper-moaning the most risque words. But, volume wise he’s quiet and he prefers it that way. He never wants to drown out the pretty mewls you make because of his fingers and cock.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He eats pussy that way iykyk. I’m glad every fic writer agrees that Ced is a pussy conesiour, because he loves grabbing your hips and pulling you down closer on his tongue, thats non negotiable. He probably has the strongest tongue in the world.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He thought he was small until he met you and was like “Sorry, I’m not that impressive 😔” then pulled out 6 inches of cervix shattering dick. Its thick too, but not like the porn-type thick, like it fits in your hand comfortably and fills you up perfectly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Like I said: Always horny. Every time he watches you bite your lip he’s got a million things he wants to do to you in a broom closet.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He would rather watch you fall asleep even if that meant he never slept. But once he knows you’re sleeping, he wraps his body around yours with his chin on your shoulder and falls asleep. Prefect rooms= naked naps.

Taglist: @annasdani @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @faeinorbit @anchoeritic @cedricsyellowscarf

[jobean12-blog]

Fate

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 1,132

Summary: You meet Loki at a bookshop. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-th-horniest-book-club Lucky in Love Challenge and day 8: Fate. My lovely friend Jo @gallifreystray sent me this amazing prompt a while back and I saw it and this story just happened. I really hope you like it, I so enjoyed writing it! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤ My divider is by the lovely @imerdwarf PS the quote is by Clairel Estevez. 

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff

The early Spring rain is heavy and cold as you slosh down the city street. Your boots are nearly soaked through and your toes are feeling icy. You can’t seem to find a safe haven from the weather as you search the rows of apartment buildings.

Turning the corner, you see a small store with fruit out front and under an awning. You rush over and stand under it, deciding a snack might be in order while you’re here. Just as you start inspecting the apples something rubs against your legs.

You move back and look down. Two piercing green eyes stare back up at you with an expectant look.

“Oh, you sweet thing. What are you doing out here?” you ask the shiny black cat.

As if to answer your question the cat meows and starts to walk away into the rain. Unable to help your curiosity you put the apple back and follow the cat. He only walks a short distance before disappearing between the small crack in a door that was left slightly ajar.

You look up at the building but can’t read the sign because of the rain and decide to go inside. The moment you do you’re met with a cozy warmth and the smell of old leathered books. You slowly walk toward the numerous and tall bookshelves, all lined with the spines of what must be thousands and thousands of books.

“I see Fate has brought you here,” a smooth voice says from behind you.

You jump with a start and spin on your heel. You’re met with the same green eyes from earlier but this time they belong to a man. A very handsome and tall man.  His hair is as jet black as the cat’s fur that is perched atop his shoulder and as if on cue they tilt their heads in greeting.

“Hi,” you whisper, now entirely unsure of the situation.

“You must be freezing in all those wet clothes. Can I offer you some tea?” the man asks.

Before you realize what you’re doing you nod your head and follow him to the back of the bookshop. It’s there that you find a small space with a couch and two chairs and a fireplace. He motions to the chair closest to the fire and you sit with a plop.

“Thank you,” you manage to squeak.

“Of course, darling. I’m just happy Fate found you.”

The cat jumps off his shoulder and lands at your feet, rubbing along your ankles and purring.

“I was so surprised to see him outside in this weather,” you start, feeling as if you owe him an explanation for coming into the shop. “I didn’t even know there was a bookshop here.”

He smiles softly before disappearing again. You lean over and pet Fate, the sweet cat clearly seeing it as an invitation to crawl into your lap. The man returns with a large cup of tea and some biscuits.

“Here you go my sweet. Now, drink that up and get yourself warm. You should probably remove your shoes and socks as well,” he states, taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“Thank you for all this,” you say, taking his advice.

“I’m Loki, the owner of this bookshop and as you already know, your friend there is Fate,” he tells you.

You continue scratching Fate and take a sip of the tea, sighing happily when the hot liquid goes down and warms your belly. You find it extremely easy to talk to Loki and it isn’t until your stomach grumbles that you check the time and nearly yelp when you see that three hours have passed.

“Oh my! I’ve kept you so long. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize,” you ramble on, standing and stumbling over the discarded shoes at your feet. You start to fall forward but a pair of strong arms catch you, easily setting you straight again.

“Do be careful darling,” he purrs.  “Can’t have you getting hurt now can I?”

You’re completely entranced by the green of his eyes and how they seem to swirl with color.

“Hmmmm?” you reply. “Oh yes. Right. Of course. Uh, thank you,” you mutter.

You sit back down and put on your socks and shoes, now both dry thanks to the warm fire and your long stay.

“Thank you again,” you tell him. “This was lovely and I think the rain has finally stopped.”

You tear your gaze away from his and look out the front window to see the early evening sky alit with the fiery orange of the setting sun.

“Indeed, it has,” Loki agrees, eyes still on you. “I hope you will visit again soon. If only to keep Fate happy.”

You look down at the cat now sandwiched between your legs, his tail swishing happily back and forth against you.

“I don’t think I could stay away very long,” you admit, giving him one more pat before walking to the door.

“Thank you again, Loki. It was nice meeting you both,” you say, smiling at the matching pair of green eyes before opening the door.

Work and life keep you away from the bookshop for the remainder of the week but on Saturday afternoon you stroll down the same street, now sunny and dry, and see Fate sitting outside the door as if he is waiting for you.

The feline immediately perks up and saunters over to you, meowing as if to ask, “where have you been?”

You pick him up and open the door, seeing no sign of Loki. Fate unexpectedly leaps from your arms and naturally lands on his feet, padding softly down a dimly lit aisle of books. You follow him, brushing your fingertips over the worn book bindings and kicking up dust.

“Where are we going Fate?” you ask, the cat’s eyes gleaming in the low light.

Finally, he stops by a small bookshelf set under a stained-glass window. He hops on top and starts to paw at a book on the top shelf. You walk closer and caress the books spine before carefully pulling it from the shelf. When you open it a small piece of parchment falls to the floor.

You take it between trembling fingers and read the scribbled ink, as exquisite in form as it is in words; ‘Fate has spoken…your name fits in my heart, in such a way. You are destined to be the body, for the story of my life.’

Your soft gasp is met with the purr of Fate and the feel of Loki at your back. You turn slowly and see him standing amongst the fading light of the sun, his eyes shining.

“I’m so glad to see that Fate has brought you back to me darling.”

@bugsbucky @book-dragon-13​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @lookiamtrying​ @lizette50​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @white-wolf1940​

[xpeachesncream]

bands | twelve

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, insecurities, some overthinking, introducing you to fluffy koo?! and i think we’re all familiar with the song at the end too 🥺

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Am I doing too much for shopping for a dress? He told me to dress nice and I honestly don't have an ounce of nice in my closet." You told Kai as you looked through the hangers on the rack.

"No, you're not doing too much. And I think you dress nice, but it's always good to have a few dresses in general, right?"

"Okay, okay. How about this?" You hold up a black knitted, off the shoulder dress that fell right above the knee. "It's too simple isn't it?"

"Simple is the best." He shrugs. "That's probably the best one I've seen so far and it'll look nice on you. Plus, you can just curl your hair or whatever girls do."

"Hm, okay." You chuckle, heading over to the register to pay for the dress. You had picked up Kai from school and quickly dragged him to the mall before dropping him off at Eric's. You might have tried on and looked at a few billion dresses since you've been here, but out of all those, this dress probably spoke to you the most. You didn't wanna be too flashy, or do too much, but you did want to put effort into tonight's date with Jungkook. You had butterflies in your stomach all day, and quite frankly, you were nervous for how tonight would turn out. You just wanted to look good for him, and you definitely wanted him to look at you like you were the only girl in the world. It might have been a big ask on your part, but if he was serious about this, it shouldn't be a big deal, right?

"Let's get you some food before I drop you off."

"Can't I just stay at your place?"

"And watch me do my walk of shame in the morning? No thanks." He gives you a look before shaking his head.

"You're right, that's kind of weird." He does a fake shiver. "Kind of gross too."

"You started it." You snort. You make your way over to the food court, ordering Panda Express for a quick to-go meal. You could never go wrong with fried rice and their orange chicken. As you had ordered your food and waited for them to fill up your bowls, the two workers began to chat and you only overheard because—

"Did you hear? Jungkook is supposedly dating a stripper from that nightclub." You purse your lips into a fine line as you wait patiently for the food to be put into your bowls.

"I heard, but is it actually true? Why would he date a stripper?"

"I know, right? He could do so much better, why would he stoop that low?"

"My question is— how did a nobody like her get his attention?" The cashier turns to you and gives you a fake smile. "Anything else for you, love?"

"No." You shake your head, pay and take the food before walking away. You don't know why the words pain you so much, but you simply shake it off as you approach Kai who is waiting at a nearby table.

"Ready?" He looks up at you and tilts his head.

"You okay?"

"Mmm, yeah let's go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Kai. Really." You give him a nod, along with a fake, tight-lipped smile. He knows something's wrong, but he doesn't press you, especially after the way you responded. You quickly drop him off to avoid any unnecessary confrontation with your stepfather and make your way home. As soon as you touch base, you sit on your couch and.. you just quietly sit there. Suddenly, everything people had been saying was getting to you. Why did Jungkook want you? Why did he go for you and not anyone else?

Maybe they were right? You were just a nobody. Even if Jungkook did have feelings for you, you questioned if this was even going to last.

"God, Y/N." You groan at yourself, shaking the thoughts out of your head to start getting ready. Just because you brushed it off though, doesn't mean you had gotten over it. They were starting to pile up one by one, and one day, you felt like you were going to break and really let it get to you.

That day wasn't today, though. It couldn't be.

You looked at the dress after you slipped it on, staring at yourself in the mirror as you slipped on your heels. You fixed up your hair and added a dab of lipgloss before letting out a content sigh. You wondered if this would be enough for him. You always wondered if you were enough for him. Your stomach was in knots and this was the first time you felt sick to your stomach nervous.

"Hello?" Your phone suddenly rang, you grabbing it with a quickness.

"Hey, I'm outside." You furrowed your brows because his voice sounded a lot closer than it should be. You kept the phone to your ear as you opened the door, seeing Jungkook smiling with the phone pressed against his ear as well.

"Silly." You scrunched your nose as you hung up and put your phone down. You watched as he looked at you up and down, his eyes widening in admiration and awe.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." You blushed.

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself, Jeon Jungkook." He smiles. He was wearing a black and white striped button up, black slacks, boots and a fitted black blazer. His black hair hung loosely over the sides of his face, natural waves coming in and giving it a little volume.

"Ready?" He holds out his hand for you to intertwine your fingers with his.

"You know, you didn't have to come upstairs." You smiled up at him.

"Mm, but that takes away from the complete experience, sweetheart." He grabs your purse and your small duffle bag [since he politely requested for you to bring a change of clothes] to carry it for you as you head down the steps and to his car. You loved the smell of his car, as oddly as that sounds. He always had a fresh strip of that Black Ice car freshener hanging from his rear view mirror that reminded you of his scent so much. "Seatbelt on?" You nod as he starts the car and locks his free hand with yours once again.

"Where are you taking me?" You playfully ask.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles. "However, I want you to know we won't be out in public. Not because I don't wanna show you off, it's only because I don't want anyone to bother us." You nod.

"Okay." You appreciate his honesty, your what if's and insecurities slowly drifting away the more Jungkook talks to you, touches you. You always thought it was cute how careful he was with you, treating you like you were the most delicate thing in the world and that he had to take care of you in every way possible.

You realize that you're making your way to his luxury apartment building [his own, not the dorms] and you're a little confused as to why you had gotten all dressed up and fancy if you were just going back to his place. However, you didn't say anything to allow the plans to do the talking for you. You trusted him with this, and you feel like Jungkook really hasn't given you a solid reason to not trust him at this point in your 'relationship.'

You didn't know what to call it yet.

He parks his car in his usual spot, and immediately runs over to open your door and help you out. He gathers your bags from the back and hangs onto them as his other hand is resting against the small of your back. He brings you to the very top floor, where there aren't necessarily apartments but moreso conference and party rooms and you can tell strictly by the way each room has double doors.

"Uh, this exists?" Jungkook chuckles.

"Other idols live here too, gives them a way to do shit without having to step outside and have people in their business." You nod.

"Does this mean your dorm is like this too?" He nods.

"Yup, just another luxury apartment building. Few things differ but for the most part, they're the same." You shrug.

"Must be nice."

"It's alright." He stops in front of double doors towards the end of the hallway. "Close your eyes for me, please? Just for a quick minute." You smirk before doing what you're told and closing your eyes. You hear the doors open, and Jungkook's hand is retreating down onto the small of your back. He's guiding you as you walk in, but stops after a couple of steps. "Open?" You open your eyes and softly gasp at the sight in front of you. The entire half of the wall was strictly windows, so you had a good view of the city in front of you. What caught your eye the most though was all the pink and red shades of rose petals along the floor, lining your way to the dining table in the center of the room. Along with it were little tealight candles and balloons along the way, with speakers softly playing music in the background. The room looked so big having one table in the center, just for the two of you. The center table was drenched in white table cloth, with tall white candles in the middle and a single rose as its centerpiece.

"Jungkook?!" You slightly shriek. "Oh my god, what is this?"

"Date night, sweetheart. Had to make it worthwhile since we're not out in public." He smiles and takes your hand. "Come on, let's go eat. I know you're hungry." He pulls out your chair and has you sit before he situates himself in front of you and tucks your bags underneath the table.

"Thank you." You give him a soft, cute smile. You're not sure how else you can show your appreciation for all the effort he put in, but you were happy. "I-I really don't know what I did to deserve all this effort from you." He shakes his head.

"What do you mean? You didn't have to do anything. I wholeheartedly just wanted to do this for you." He smiles, his dimple poking out from the bottom corner of mouth.

"Well, thank you again. I really do appreciate everything you do for me." He scrunches his nose before looking up at the waiter, who was ready to serve you two either a bottle of Jungkook's favorite red wine or white wine.

"You like sweet or bitter?"

"Sweet." You shyly said as he signaled for the waiter to pour the white wine before thanking him as he left you two to your piece.

"So, dinner is a 3 course meal made by a friend of mine."

"A friend, ey?" He nods, knowing full well he hired one of the most popular chefs around to prepare dinner for you two.

"I hope you like it. I asked him to make it special." You chuckled.

"I'm sure I will." You sipped on your wine. Over time, the salad appetizer came out, followed by the main course meal. You both had dug in pretty quietly, Jungkook chiming in about random things with you reacting appropriately to the topics he brought up.

"So, did you figure out what you were gonna do for Kai?" You shrug.

"He's gonna go to the arcade and I'll buy him Loco Moco."  You snort. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it? For an 18th birthday?" You frown.

"No, not if that's what he wants. Why don't you come over my place and I can make it for him? He can take over my gaming consoles if he wants, too."

"That's asking for too much."

"But you're not asking, I'm asking."

"Would you mind? He really does want to meet you."

"No I don't mind. It's on Saturday, yeah?"

"Yup." He nods.

"Schedule isn't as packed for a bit."

"Hm, okay. If you say so."

"Just let me know when to start making it and I'll make sure I make the time."

"Okay." You nod. "Hey, you have an older brother, don't you?"

"Yeah, but we aren't as close. Which is why it's nice to see you and Kai together. It's pretty comforting."

"May I ask why?"

"He just always thinks I'm a troublemaker, or that I rebel too much. We just have different mindsets, that's all."

"Did you guys fight a lot when you were younger?" He nods.

"Sure did." He points to the scar on his cheek and laughs. You lean over to run your finger over it before sitting back into your chair.

"That looks like a deep cut."

"That's because it was. He beat my ass over his turn on the computer." You chuckle.

"Sorry, that must have hurt."

"Eh, nothing I couldn't get over. But yeah, that's pretty much my relationship with my brother."

"How about your parents?" He shrugs.

"They think the same way. I try to be on their good side but they like to remind me about what I used to do or how I live my life." He forks into his food. "Like my tattoos. They hated that shit. Probably still do."

"I'm sorry, Jungkook."

"No, don't be. It is what it is. I really do try, but sometimes it gets tiring. I don't go home often because of it."

"Hmm." You hum. "You know, I always thought you were such a social butterfly."

"Me?" He laughs. "No."

"But you look so confident on stage. So happy."

"I am happy on stage, but it's kind of just that. I do what I need to do, especially for the fans and all. Don't get me wrong though, I love it. But behind the scenes, I'm not much of a talker, or someone who shares a lot. I like to keep it that way. I don't like getting too close to people and letting people into my bubble and vice versa. Gets complicated."

"So, what about me?" You look at him, curiosity filling the look in your eyes.

"I like you, and I want you in my bubble. You aren't complicated."

"How do you know that for sure? I can kick and scream and throw tantrums. And-and have attitude." You say, making him laugh and shake his head. "I can be complicated."

"I doubt it. Can't see an ounce of it. You can try, but I'm sure it won't be like the way you explain it to be." He looks at you. "All I'm saying is that I really like you, Y/N. I want you around me. You keep things so simple and sweet, and I've already started to appreciate the small things from being around you. It's something I used to overlook before we met. All the small things, the little joys in life. You make me look at things in a different perspective, I guess is what I'm trying to say." He cutely shakes his head at how he just rambled on, making you blush.

"It really makes me happy to hear that." You finished up the food on your plate, blushing as you wiped the corners of your mouth and fiddled with your fingers.

"So, did you ever think you'd be here after all the times you played so hard to get at the club?"

"No, definitely not. I mean, even in general." You tilted your head while looking at him.

"Are you happy to be here?" He asks shyly, his doe eyes wide and puppy-like.

"Of course I am."

"That's all that matters to me." He says, beaming from ear to ear. The waiter brings over the dessert, which is a sampler plate of 5 different cakes/cheesecakes. Your eyes light up because who fucking doesn't love dessert? You immediately go to town, yelling out your 'yum's' and 'ooh's' every bite you take. Jungkook laughs watching you happily eating away, giving him leverage to feed you a spoonful of the dessert on the plate closest to his end.

"I'm so full. That was so, so good." You finish your wine after one last bite of the dessert and sink back into your seat.

"Yeah? I'm glad you enjoyed it." He puts his napkin down on the table after wiping his mouth, then gets up, holding out his hand for you to take. You look at him, a little confused as to what he was trying to do, but you take it anyway. "May I have this dance with you, pretty lady?" You smile and nod, swinging your arms around his neck as he holds you closely against him by the hips.

"Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"I really appreciate you. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"You're absolutely welcome, baby." The pet name sends goosebumps raging throughout your body, your forehead pressing against his. "You're special to me, you know? I can't really explain it just yet, but just know that every single thing that I've done for you has been worth it." You give him a small smile as you quietly dance to the music, your bodies pressed warmly together as you hold each other close. He softly sings along with the music, causing you to giggle every now and then when he showed off his cute facial expressions. After a song has passed, he presses his lips against your forehead, making you shut your eyes at the sensation of his soft lips against your skin.

You just wanted him as much as he wanted you. You were so undeniably attracted to him, just as much as he with you.

"I have one more thing to show you." He says as he grabs your bags underneath the table.

"One more thing, huh?" He suddenly gets shy, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he grabs your hand and leads you out of the room. You start climbing up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, going up about 3 more flights before Jungkook is climbing over the gate that blocks off the last flight the leads to another door. "Jungkook, is this illegal?!" He snorts as he waits for you to meet him at the door.

"Why would it be here if it was illegal?"

"But it was--" He opens the door, bringing you out to the rooftop to look at the entire view of the city ahead as the sun was getting ready to fully rest below the horizon. "Ohhhh shit, it's a beauty." You say in awe, walking over to the railing to take everything in. You expected Jungkook's body to press against yours from behind, however it doesn't. You find yourself looking for him, turning over your shoulder to see him quietly blowing up a balloon before smiling cutely at you and bringing it over. "A balloon?" You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

"This is gonna sound dumb and cheesy, but it was really the one thing I could think of to help put things into perspective. I want you to write everything you're worried about, everything you've been thinking about, all that negative shit." He hands you the balloon with a sharpie, causing you to laugh.

"Where did you even hide this stuff?"

"In my pocket." He scrunched his nose, his teeth piercing his bottom lip as he let out a soft, tiny laugh. You do as he says though, writing out all the negative shit that had been clouding your mind lately - Eric, worrying about Kai and him going off to college soon, your image, just to name a few. You wrote it all out as Jungkook stood behind you, resting his chin on your head as his arms wrapped around your neck.

"Okay, I think that's it."

"Mmkay, let it go." He nods towards the view in front of him. You let the balloon go, watching it dance around with the light breeze, flying farther and farther away as it does so. "I don't want you to worry about any of that when I'm around. I know the world hasn't exactly been the nicest to you, but I want you to know that I'm gonna do my best to keep you safe. You and Kai." You smile to yourself as your body sinks into his, the both of you just enjoying the view and the moment, which ultimately turns into a fun, playful competition as to who can spot more landmarks than the other.

After you both had spent a good amount of time watching the sun fully sink below the horizon, he took you back downstairs to his apartment, placing your bags off to the side of his room. You slipped out of your heels, sighing contently at the feeling of your feet being out of the heels after so long. You had no idea how you lasted at the club like this, it felt like it was such a long time ago.

"Baby." Jungkook says, coming in from the living room.

"Huh?" You look up at him as you set your heels aside neatly. The nickname was something you knew would take awhile for you to get used to, especially if it was used outside of the bed. It was moreso of a 'i can't believe he's actually calling me baby' kind of thing. He's actually calling me baby instead of my first name. I'm baby.

"Look, I bought this projector but I wanted to wait until you were here so we could try it." He begins fiddling with this little mini projector he bought, connecting it to the tv and doing all these technical handyman things that you weren't really sure of.

"What movie are you going to put on?"

"That's a good question."

"I'll let you figure it out." You say, rubbing your arm, eyeing his closet. "You're the one who knows all the good stuff."

"No I—"He turns to look at you, catching you eyeing his closet. "Babe."

"Hm?" You return your attention towards him, watching as he laughs at you.

"Do you want a shirt or something?" You nod shyly. "Then go get it. You don't have to ask or act all shy about it."

"But it's your shirt."

"Whatever is mine is yours too." He turns back to the tv, scrolling through his apps to find the best movie to put on. You slowly walk into his closet, eyeing all the clothes he has, taking in the scent of his shirts as you them by. You lock eyes on a random Carhartt longsleeve folded nicely on one of his shelves and start slipping the sleeves down your arms so you can easily step out of your dress. "I think—" Jungkook stops in his tracks as he sees you starting to slip out of your dress. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, watching as he approaches you with his hands in his pockets. You feel his hands against your arms, his lips gently pressing a kiss against your shoulders.

"You think what?" You smile softly at him as he presses another kiss against your jawline before gently turning you to face him.

"I think I found a movie you'll enjoy." He lifts your chin to kiss you on the lips. You smile into the kiss before pulling away and nodding.

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Find a shirt you like?" You point at his longsleeve and he nods.

"Nice. That's one of my favorites."

"Oh, then I'll just pick something else if—"

"Why? I don't mind. Go for it." You silently nod before turning around to slip out of your dress and slip the shirt on. Jungkook changes into his pajamas behind you, following you into his bed shortly after.

"Oh my god." You laugh seeing Always Be My Maybe projected against the wall. "You asked Kai if I've watched this yet, haven't you?"

"Nooo." He lies, silently giggling to himself.

"You liar! You knew I've had this on my list and that I haven't gotten around to watching it."

"Don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. Just pure coincidence." He says, leaving the room to grab water and shut off his living room lights. He shuts the door to his room, immediately putting the water down onto the nightstand before slipping under the sheets with you.

"Mhm." You eye him suspiciously as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to lay on his chest.

"Mhm." He mocks you, laughing before kissing you on the head. "Ready?"

"Have been. Surprised you didn't know that."

"Mmm, baby catches on quick I see." You smack his chest, cuddling up tighter against him as the movie starts. Tonight was the night that really solidified where you were at with him, because after dinner, you highkey expected him to take you home and fuck you senseless [which you weren't opposed to], but he kept it sweet. Delicate. Cute. A serious, date night to show you what you really meant to him. This wasn't just some plan to woo you and get you in your pants and keep you as the exclusive fuckbuddy - no, this was Jungkook really confessing where he stood with you, and vice versa. As you cuddled against him, you saw a lot of his cute, nerdy sides poking out whenever he would comment on certain things that came up on the movie. For the first time, you heard his really loud, obnoxiously cute laugh that you instantly fell in love with. You were with Jungkook, and you were seeing a whole side of him that many people didn't really see.

And for that, you were grateful.

can i call you baby? can you be my friend? can you be my lover up until the very end? let me show you love, oh, no pretend, stick by my side even when the world is caving in

track eleven: at my worst (remix) - pink sweat$ & kehlani

[sinnamonrolle]

[ the little moments] ♡ Leviathan

4 - That moment when you baked cream puffs with Leviathan.

✿ part of a series now! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

“What are you making?” you asked, peeking over Levi’s arms.

“GAH!” Levi yelped. “BEGONE, DEMONS!—oh. It’s just you. Why did you sneak up on me??? It’s not fair for my poor heart, okay.”

Levi set down the spatula into the bowl and patted his chest a few times, clearly spooked by your unannounced arrival. You felt bad for scaring him, but his reaction was utterly adorable. There was a faint blush across his cheeks, and all you wanted to do was see it again and again.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, giving his head a few pats for good measure. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blush deepened at the contact between you two, but Levi didn’t push you away. He only turned his head and grumbled with a small pout, “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

You looked at the dough in the bowl, the cup of beaten eggs on the counter, and the bottles of whip cream neatly lined up to the side. “So, what are you making? Do you need any help?” you asked.

He perked up instantly, and all lingering signs from the scare vanished. As he whipped out his D.D.D. from his pocket, he began explaining to you.

“So, you see,” Levi began, his fingers moving furiously against the screen, “in the anime ‘The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl’, in one episode, Ruri-chan visited one of her human friends and they made cream puffs together, and as I was rewatching that episode, seeing Ruri-chan enjoying her cream puffs that she made with her own two hands also made me want to make my own cream puffs, because if I make it myself, then it’ll be like eating it with Ruri-chan, you know, but I’ve never made cream puffs before so I’m following a recipe and yeah. That’s where I am right now—Did you get all that? You look a little dazed.”

When Levi talked about something he’s passionate about, the purple in his eyes rose and fell in accordance to his emotions. It’s something that took you a while to notice, but once you did, you couldn’t stop staring. For example, when Levi was sad, the purple swallowed most of the orange, leaving behind a sliver of dark orange. And when Levi was angry, and you meant really angry, only a tiny amount of purple circled his pupil. The bright orange consumed all other colors, and it almost seemed to glow. But when Levi was happy, that’s when his eyes were the warmest orange. The purple was mild, nestled underneath hues of oranges—you thought it was a beautiful combination of colors.

Like currently. You were utterly entranced by the way the orange seeped into the paler orange, pushing down the purple until all you could see was the sunset in his eyes. Too entranced that you appeared dazed to Levi, but not to the point that you didn’t listen to what he was saying.

When you refocused again, Levi turned away to the ingredients on the countertop, hands reaching for his headphones only to meet the collar of his cardigan. It seemed to be a habit of his. When he was nervous or feeling out of place, he often reached for his headphones to feel safe, to feel protected against the world. But he didn’t have them today, probably because he planned on baking and didn’t want them to get dirty or to get in the way.

“Of course,” Levi mumbled, tugging his cardigan closer to his body, “I shouldn’t expect a normie like you to understand, why did I even bother? There’s no way you would care about something stupid—”

“I was listening,” you said firmly. “By making cream puffs, you will feel like you’re eating them with Ruri-chan, right? It’s not stupid at all, Levi. I think the idea is adorable. Can we make them together?”

Levi spluttered and turned further away from you, red ears peeking out of his hair.

“That-that’s not fair! Acting so cute, especially with that head tilt! It’s like you’re trying to KO me!” Levi complained, but he finally turned to look at you. However, his eyes were constantly moving between the bowl of batter and your face. “Although… if it’s on purpose, I, uh, I wouldn’t necessarily mind… BUT that’s not the problem here! Are you sick or something? Why did you look so out of it? Like, like something came and ate your soul! You can’t let anyone eat your soul, okay?!”

There was no need for shame in this house, so you confessed with a straight face. Besides, there wasn’t any reason to hide it from Levi, whose concern for your soul had his hands on your shoulders, all of his inhibitions regarding intimacy out the window.

“I got distracted by your eyes,” you said honestly. “When you’re really happy, your eyes are this really pretty shade of orange. It reminds me of sunsets and autumn trees that we have in the human world.”

It took Levi a minute or two to process what you just said, but when it registered, he froze up. His hands clamped down harder on your shoulders, fingers squeezing you as he choked out, “A-ah… I, I see…”

His eyes bore holes into your clothes, not daring to meet yours, as red bloomed beautifully on his cheeks. It was just tempting you to touch it, to feel the warm soft skin with your fingertips, to encourage the blush with pinching and kneading, but just as you started to move for his cheeks, Levi removed himself from you and showed you a picture of cream puffs, drawn in a familiar anime style.

“Th-this, AHEM, this is what Ruri-chan made,” Levi said, the blush still lingering on his cheeks as he explained. “She cuts it completely in half and then they put the cream inside.“ Then, he swiped to another picture. “This is the recipe I found. I’ve already cooked the dough on the stove, so all I have left is to mix the perfect amount of eggs into the dough.”

You lowered the hand that was reaching for Levi’s face and smiled at him. Even though you really wanted to touch his cheeks, you were still satisfied from the way Levi was enjoying himself with baking. It was rare to see Levi so unbridled and unabashed with his happiness in a public space, although perhaps the House of Lamentation wouldn’t count as public.

Something this rare... you didn’t dare disrupt.

“Then, let’s mix the eggs together,” you offered, turning to grab the measuring cup of beaten eggs. “Is this the amount that we need?”

Levi picked up the spatula he had set down earlier and replied, “There’s four eggs in there, but the recipe said that it’s really finicky. We just have to make the dough a good consistency. Let’s see… we need it shiny, thick, and smooth.”

The mixing went well. Levi was extremely strict with making sure the dough came out well, and while you did some baking before here and there, you definitely weren’t an expert on the amount of eggs that needed to be in cream puff dough. You were glad Levi knew enough for the cream puffs to come out looking absolutely delicious, because you weren’t sure if your heart could handle Levi breaking down into tears.

“Be careful when you’re cutting it in half,” Levi said nervously, watching closely as you sliced a cream puff. “Don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll freak out if you do. I don’t know how to reattach fingers, so I’ll probably have to go get Satan but wouldn’t it be too late by then? How long does it take before human fingers aren't able to reattach? Ah, but we have magic so—”

“Levi,” you said, patting his arm in a consoling manner, “I understand your concerns, but I’ll be fine. I promise to be extra careful, but you shouldn’t hold the whipped cream can—”

Pop.

“—too tightly…” you finished, but it was already too late.

The bottle of whipped cream, branded with a logo of Little Devil, exploded from the top. Some of the cream decorated the kitchen countertop in white spots and some fell on your hand, but most of it landed on Levi. You could barely see his face through the thick layer of white.

“...”

“Pfffftttt—cough, cough!” you started laughing, only to immediately cover it with coughs. It didn’t sound believable at all, but you continued on, setting the knife to the side. “Levi, are you okay?”

Before he could respond, much of the cream fell from his face in a huge glob, leaving behind a white coating with varying thickness and two spots where his eyes were. You choked back the laughter as best as you could, but it was hard to stop your lips from twitching. It wasn’t helping that he looked somewhat like a clown.

“Are, are you okay, Levi?” you asked again, biting down on your lips to stop it from forming into a smile. “That’s a lot of whipped cream…”

Levi opened his mouth, but you couldn’t see his lips at all, only a dark, gaping hole that opened and closed.

“Unbelievable…” he said, and you would have helped him clean the cream off his face if you didn’t absolutely lose it then and there, doubling over as you wheezed, slapping a hand against your thigh.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, “but, oh my goodness, Levi, you—AHAHAHA, you look like a clown! A clown! Levi, I’m so sorry but—”

When you took another look at Levi, he was looking at you in equal parts disappointment and embarrassment as he wiped off most of the white cream with a hand, washing it under the faucet.

Even though most of the whipped cream was gone, the look he sent you almost launched you into another wheezing fit, but you steadied yourself as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Unbelievable,” Levi grumbled, but this time you could see the pout on his lips and the absolutely adorable way his eyebrows furrowed together.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, with a bit of guilt, and reached for the remaining cream hanging onto his bangs. “Here, let me get that—”

Levi caught your hand.

“You complete idiot,” he complained as he brought your hand to his lips. “Cruel and heartless, I can’t believe you’re my master… Normally, I wouldn’t forgive you for a hundred years but… ” He trailed off, and his eyes, the color of coral, met yours for a brief second before his eyes eluded yours, and his tongue peeked out and licked the whipped cream that had landed on the back of your hand.

Your eyes followed the retracting tongue and the way it swiped gently against his pink lips as it passed through. Dazed, you only processed what had happened when the kitchen air blew against the wet patch on your hand, the cold sensation and the realization warming up your face.

Now, you were the one blushing.

Levi finished with a whisper, “You’re lucky I love you.”

-------

Masterlist!

[scuttling]

While I'm writing Dad!Bod Hotch with babies... 🥺

...Here's a very baby excerpt from one of my other works (modified a little so it can be read as reader.) It's pretty cute if I do say so myself! Tags: 18+, NSFW, Blow job + Pregnant sex The next child abduction case they get happens a year later, and it takes them to Seattle; rain beats down on the Sullivan house while she and JJ sit with the family and try to keep them informed of what’s going on in terms of the investigation. The mother stares out the window at the rain, and she brings over the cup of tea she’d offered to make, sets it down on the table beside her, takes her trembling hands.

“I promise you, Mrs. Sullivan, our team is doing absolutely everything they can to locate your son safely. They are the best in the world at what we do; we just need to let them do their jobs.”

Mrs. Sullivan frowns, takes a sobbing breath, and then wraps her arms around her; she’s a little startled by it, but rubs her back, trying to provide comfort.

After a couple minutes, Mrs. Sullivan pulls back, and she offers her a tissue.

“Do you have any children?” she asks, wiping her eyes.

“Yes. He’s seven years old, and his name is Jack.”

They find the boy five hours later. Alive.

She and Aaron have celebration sex on every available surface.

“Hey. So, I got three or four calls from my doctor’s office a couple weeks ago, but I was preoccupied with the Sullivan case and I kept forgetting to call her back,” she says later from Aaron’s lap. He sits up, holding her hips while he shifts his weight.

“Okay. Is everything alright? Why was she calling so often?”

“Apparently, my IUD expired a month ago. I have to get it taken out.” He looks cautiously over her face, like he’s not sure what reaction she wants from him. She’s fairly certain she knows what his first instinct is. “Well, Jack and I were at the grocery store when I spoke to her—and you know I’ve been feeling a little off…” She wets her lips, reaches over the arm of the couch and pulls a little cardboard box off the console table. She can see his breath hitch.

“Have you taken it?” She nods quickly, presses her lips together.

“Just waiting now.” Carefully, he reaches for the box, takes it out of her hand, and sets it back down on the table. He pulls her close for a tight hug.

“Whatever happens, I love you so much,” he murmurs in her ear, and they just hold each other until the timer on her phone goes off. She brushes her hand through his hair, and his eyes are wet; she knows hers are too.

She climbs out of his lap, and he follows her down the hall, clinging to her back like he can’t physically let her go. When they make it to the bathroom, she picks up the test, squeezes her eyes briefly shut, and holds it up so he can read the word on the screen.

The word.

She spins in his arms, wraps hers around him, and jumps up and down, the grin splitting her face nothing compared to the gorgeous smile that lights up his.

“I’m going to see if Dr. Rose can fit me in tomorrow,” she says, leaning up to smooch him several times in a row. “Just to be sure.”

“Let me know, I’ll come.” She nods, kisses him a few more times, takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I love you so much.” He holds her, repeats it, kisses her forehead, her eyes. Then he starts kissing her for real, reverent and steamy, and they walk gracelessly toward the bedroom, tugging articles of clothing off as they go.

She is kneeling over him on the bed, giving him a very good, messy, ‘Congrats, you’re probably going to be a daddy again!’ blow job when she pulls back suddenly, an overwhelming thought crossing her mind; she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“You know my brother has two sets of twins, right?” “A package came from your brother today,” Aaron says a couple months later as he’s leafing through the mail; he holds it out to her, and she opens it up, excited, then covers her mouth, can’t help but aww. “What is it?” he asks, not looking up from the stack of envelopes, and she puts her hand on his arm to get his attention.

“‘For the Hotchner siblings’—that’s what the card says,” she explains when he looks up, and then she holds up the largest t-shirt: it’s brown, with a cartoon bear cub, white letters spelling out Brother Bear. She holds up a smaller shirt: Sister Bear #1. Then another small shirt: Sister Bear #2. He smiles.

“Okay, that’s cute. We have to FaceTime him and thank him.”

“Definitely. He’s not going to believe how big this belly is,” she says, reaching up on her toes for a kiss; he comes at her from the side, because it’s easier to reach her lips that way. “Uh, Hotch, we need you down in the bullpen. She's crying and we can’t get her to stop,” Spencer says into the phone, looking a little freaked. Aaron must agree to come down, because he hangs up the receiver wordlessly; JJ rubs her shoulders, trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay, I completely understand. It’s normal to feel like that at this stage of the pregnancy,” she explains, and it’s all sounding very rational, but she just covers her eyes and keeps crying.

When Aaron crouches down beside her, he takes her hands carefully off of her face, wipes her tears with his sleeve, peers up at her with soft eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I want…” She gulps, sniffles, and Prentiss hands her a tissue over the desk partition. “Thank you. I want these babies out of me,” she sobs, and she knows she’s making a huge scene, but she doesn’t even care. “I want your babies out of me, Aaron!” He sighs; she knows he’s heard it all before.

“I know, honey, but you have to be patient. It will happen when it’s meant to.” She sobs, then hiccups, and that’s just great.

“But I’m—I’m drinking the stupid tea, I’m eating the dates. I got the, the acupuncture—do you know how weird it is to see those needles sticking out of your body? It’s unsettling!”

Morgan returns from Garcia’s office, takes one look at them, and abruptly pivots on his heel to head back.

“Oh sure,” she calls, and then hiccups, “everyone sees a crying pregnant woman and they just run away!”

“Noo, he just texted me!” Spencer lies, waving his phone that he never even looked at. “He said he forgot something and he’ll be right back.”

“Spencer, tell me what else can induce labor, please,” is all she says, doesn’t call him out because it’s sweet that he even tried. He counts off with his fingers as he recites the list.

“Raspberry leaf tea, dates, castor oil—” she grimaces, because that shit’s the worst “—acupressure, acupuncture, exercise.” He hesitates, looks a little uncomfortable, and she hiccups, gets pissed, takes a deep breath.

“Sweetie, honey,” she says, reaching out a hand for him, and he takes it, pats it awkwardly. Bless his heart. “You’re my partner, and I love you, but please spit it out.”

“Okay, uh. Nipple stimulation, and uh. Well. Sex.” Oh, yeah, the nipple thing they tried, but it felt like a restless cat trying to get comfortable on her chest, wasn’t sexy at all, so they didn’t try the rest. She snaps her fingers at Aaron like a douchebag asking for the waitress, wipes her face, hiccups again.

“Okay, we’re doing it, we’re doing that one. Sex me up.” Prentiss barks a laugh, and Spencer looks deeply disturbed. “Please can we go home now?”

“Uh, yes, we can,” Aaron begins, “but I’m not sure we should—” Nope, she’s not gonna listen to that bullshit. He hasn’t been pregnant for 42 fucking weeks.

“I love you, but shut up. Your dick put these things inside me, and your dick’s gonna get them out.” She moves to stand, and so does he, arms out like he’ll catch her if she starts to wobble. “I know I’m not sexy anymore with this gigantic stomach, but please please please just fuck me.” He closes his eyes, sighs like he regrets so much in life, and then gives her a hard kiss on the mouth. It makes her, like, instantly horny; she’d initiate sex right here if she thought she could get her pants off.

“You are as sexy as you’ve ever been,” he murmurs, hovering over her lips, “and I’m going to fuck you.” Sex this big sucks. Missionary is hilarious, doggy is uncomfortable, side by side seems okay but is actually kind of impractical. She feels betrayed.

Aaron helps her get on top of him—his dick is so hard it makes her feel really, really good about herself—and she’s more than okay with bouncing on him, but her belly bounces too, and it feels weird.

“Can you hold it?” she pants, and she takes the hair tie off her wrist and sweeps her hair into a ponytail because she’s sweating from all the position-shifting. “Just like, hold it.” She takes his hands and rests them on her enormous beach ball belly, sighs because it feels nice. “Good, yeah, thank you, let me try again.”

She braces herself against his thighs, rides him quickly, bucking hard—after about 15 years of wishing she had bigger breasts, she now despises hers, and therefore avoids them at costs, but she does manage to reach her clit, and she rubs it furiously as she moves atop him.

Aaron—who is so great, and sweet, who she loves so much—is all but useless, just holds her belly still and groans like he’s getting the best pussy of his lifetime, which she guesses maybe he is, because she wants these babies out and she’s well and truly desperate. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he grinds out, and his hands move to her thighs, squeezing hard, and she whines.

“No, no, do not come, don’t come.”

He comes.

An hour later, they try again, with her propped up on a pillow, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The internet said this would work, and if it doesn’t, she’s prepared to let BoyMom282 fucking have it.

“Oh my god, yes, yes,” she moans, clutching at the sheets above her head, and Aaron’s hands feel so good on what remains of her waist as he pounds into her. “Fuck, yes, fuck me until your babies are ready, Aaron. Such a fucking man, knocking me up with two babies at once—you can help me get them out, can’t you, daddy?”

He groans long and loud, and she puts a hand on his, squeezes hard.

“Don’t. Come. I swear to god if you come inside me right now, it will be the last time you ever do it.”

He comes, but luckily for him, she comes first. “So, tell us which is which,” Garcia leads, visibly excited, and she leans back against Aaron’s body, looks at the sweet baby girl in his arms.

“This one is Camila,” she says, touching her teeny tiny little foot, “and Spencer’s holding Mia. Mia Clarita Hotchner Cortes—Clarita after my mother—and Camila Marie Hotchner Cortes.”

“Marie after my mother,” Aaron explains, and he puts an arm around her, which she snuggles happily against. “We’re just waiting for Jack—he should be here any minute.” Spencer hands Mia back to her, and she kisses her forehead.

“This is the best day of your mama’s life,” she coos, touching her soft, dark, fuzzy baby hair. Her heart swells. “I was going to become daddy’s next unsub if you little cuties didn’t vacate my uterus in a timely fashion.”

She can hear the squeak of Jack's shoes coming through the door, and she looks up at Aaron with a grin. When Jack comes around the bed and sees the girls, his eyes get big. “Whoa, are these my sisters?” Haley pops in behind him, and she smiles at them.

“Yeah, buddy, come here,” she says, gesturing for him with her free arm. “This is Mia, and this is Camila.”

“Gentle like we practiced,” Aaron reminds him when he reaches out to touch Camila’s face, and she and Haley both roll their eyes, then laugh.

“He knows, sweetie.” She watches their interaction with so much love, then brushes her fingers over Jack’s hair. “You’re going to be the best brother bear ever, aren’t you?” He looks up at her, grins; he’s missing a tooth just to the left of the front ones, and she’s obsessed with that little gap.

“Yep, I’m going to read them stories and share my toys and play with them at the park.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” Aaron says, leaning down to look into his eyes. “And so are we, buddy.” “And do you, Aaron Hotchner—”

“Da-ah-addy!” someone sobs—Mia, she mouths to Aaron across from her—and she sees JJ step out from behind her, trying to soothe her so they can proceed, but she’s not having any luck. Mia is a daddy’s girl, and the fact that she can see him, but she’s not in his arms, is like a mortal sin to her.

She gets it, she really does. She felt that way every day for two years.

When it’s obvious she’s not calming down, the officiant clears her throat and tries again, but Mia’s wailing just gets louder. Aaron smiles, shrugs.

“Sorry. It’s okay—here, Mia, daddy’s right here,” he assures, reaching out to take her from JJ, and he wipes her eyes, her red nose, and bounces her on his hip for a moment until she settles. She shoots them what she’s sure is a sickeningly sweet glance and then turns around and asks for Camila; Emily hands her off with a big smile.

Aaron grins when she puts her on her hip, and he reaches behind him for his best man, Jack, encourages him to come forward so he’s standing between them. She smiles at him, touches his face, and nods at the officiant, who takes a deep breath and proceeds.

“Do you, Aaron Hotchner, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” They opted not to write their own vows, because their vows are living, breathing things between them, three perfect little heartbeats. Anything more felt unnecessary.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” He does, so well she thinks she might get pregnant again, and then they each kiss their three babies, and she silently marvels over the fact that all it took was being clobbered over the head with a fire extinguisher for her life to end up this perfect. “Did you know that your chance of having a second set of fraternal twins jumps to 12% after you’ve had the first?” Spencer asks as they’re gathered in the briefing room one morning. She and Aaron are standing up front, pressed close together, nodding patiently. “And considering they run in your family, and that your brother has two sets of fraternal twins, I’d say that statistically the odds are more likely doubled.”

She looks over at Aaron, whose eyes are filled with love and awe and also some pretty sexy other things, and then pulls the ultrasound image out from the little envelope, holds it out for the team to see.

In unison, they answer, “We know.”

They get a package in the mail later that week: One Jack-sized t-shirt—Brother Bear #1—and two tiny t-shirts—Sister Bear #3 and Brother Bear #2. She and Aaron stop by the hospital to visit a friend after surgery and she can't resist walking past the maternity ward. Something about seeing all of those brand new, healthy, happy babies rejuvenates her after a tough case, and the one they'd finished up earlier in the week had been one of the toughest.

A woman comes to stand beside her as she looks at the babies, wearing sweatpants and a hospital gown—she's maybe 30, so just a few years younger—and she smiles brightly at the woman. "New mom?"

"Yeah, she's the one right there," the woman says with a grin, pointing to a sweetly sleeping little girl. "Isn't she perfect?"

"They're all perfect," she sighs, "but she is very beautiful. Congratulations." The woman's smile turns warmer, softer.

"Thank you. Do you have any children?" She's so wrapped up in the dreamy haze of little babies wiggling their toes that she almost doesn't hear the question.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, five of them: Adrian, Isabella, Mia, Camila, and Jack." The woman's eyes go extremely wide, and she laughs, because she's so very used to that. Aaron steps up on her other side, wraps an arm around her waist.

"Thought I might find you here," he says, and he smiles politely at the woman, who's looking like she may never open her legs again. "Can't resist looking at the babies."

"I just love babies," she says sweetly, and she stretches up for a kiss. "Do you ever think we should have another, just to even it out?"

"Hmm. Yes, but knowing us, they'll be twins again, so it's probably best we stick with five." He bends for another kiss, and she pulls him close; when she remembers where they are, she pulls back, to shoot the new mom a sheepish smile, but she's already gone. She sighs.

"Fair enough. But do you want to go home and practice anyway?"