#i genuinely do not believe they didn’t make out sloppily at least once

[transk0vsky]

Look I’m not a fan of Burakh/Dankosvky for personal reasons but holy fuck there’s no heterosexual explanation for this

[myherowritings]

of gold stars and lotus crisps

SUMMARY. You didn’t always get along with your roommate. But with his disarming charm and genuine kindness, you soon found yourself taking a liking to Zhongli and all the little gifts he got for you. 

PAIRING. zhongli x reader

WORD COUNT. 3.0k

GENRE. roommate au, modern au, fluff

A/N. i’m in love with zhongli, did u know? 😳 anyway i think i had way too much fun writing this ahdjksd so pls enjoy 🥺💓 xx sof

Your roommate wasn’t particularly airheaded, you wouldn’t say. But he did seem to either forget or not care for the mundane, everyday things in life. 

Mundane, everyday things such as closing the door as he entered, turning the faucet off after washing dishes, bringing his wallet with him when he went shopping, eating enough meals throughout the day needed to properly sustain his health... 

Honestly, you had to wonder how on earth he’s kept himself alive all these years. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was pampered and spoiled rotten all his life. (Though, after getting to know him, you started to realize he did nothing out of malintent and he wasn’t actually a spoiled brat.)

Still, it was annoying at first—you couldn’t lie. 

Those weren’t characteristics you wanted in a roommate, but with how high rent was these days, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. You’d rather split rent with someone who seemed fairly harmless, albeit a bit of a handful, than go house-hunting all over again.

In the beginning, it was a chore. Constantly closing the door after him or reminding him to lock it himself, paying attention to the running water in case he left the faucet open and accidentally flooded the place, cooking extra for breakfast so he could have something to eat instead of just skipping the meal— It was a lot to deal with at first.

But he was receptive to communication. After you sat down with him one night and genuinely told him about the things that bothered you, Zhongli tried to be more mindful of his surroundings and checked the sink before leaving the kitchen. He brought his keys with him and closed the door. And he even remembered to bring his wallet whenever the two of you went out to eat together! That was a feat in itself, you had to say. 

One thing he never quite got the hang of, however, was not skipping meals due to sheer forgetfulness.

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” you would ask. 

He would pause, putting his book or whatever else was capturing his attention at the time down. “Breakfast… I’m afraid I can’t remember if it was yesterday or the day before when I last ate it.” 

And that simply wouldn’t do. 

You found yourself waking up a little earlier before Zhongli had to go to work and cooking a little more than usual in order to ensure he had something to eat. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all! You couldn’t just let your roommate (and friend) miss the best meal. 

It became more and more frequent for the two of you to eat breakfast together to start your day, bonding as you passed a pitcher of orange juice and shared smiles as the sun shined through the glass windows.

Mornings became a million times more pleasant with him around. 

And it wasn’t as if your friendship was purely one-sided, with you giving more than you were getting. In his own ways, Zhongli would express his gratitude and liking towards you. 

Most days, he’d come home from work or from hanging out with his friends with a gift in his hands. Whether it be a shiny figurine from an anime you liked or an obscure snow globe with indecipherable writings on it, he would offer it to you with a wide-eyed look on his face, as if he was deliberately gauging your reaction. 

“Y/N, would you care for this gift? It reminded me of you and I thought you would like it.”

Or—

“You said you were a fan of this show, correct? I’m not sure who the character on this sweatshirt is, but it seems to suit you.” 

Soon, you found all of Zhongli’s gifts to you taking up a whole corner in your room, from the clothes in the dresser to the trinkets resting on the shelves atop. You couldn’t help but smile fondly whenever you glanced at it. 

The routine became second nature, with you cooking meals for him and eating breakfast and sometimes even dinner together, him giving you random gifts and treating you out (when he remembered to bring his wallet, of course). The two of you seemed to settle into a nice, content rhythm. That was, until the past few days when you started feeling an odd flutter in your stomach and an unfamiliar race of your heart in Zhongli’s presence.

You didn’t sense those physiological changes when you were around him before… Why was it happening now? 

After hours of thinking, you came to the conclusion that these symptoms could only be one of two things: Either you randomly caught the case of a stomach bug, or you developed a crush on your roommate. 

You couldn’t say which would be worse. 

And to add insult to injury, you were having this sudden revelation only minutes before Zhongli’s arrival back home. He was out for the weekend and would be here for dinnertime. 

You decided to make a meal of Bamboo Shoot Soup with Lotus Flower Crisps for dessert— Something a little fancier than usual and something you knew he liked, and for some reason, you felt nervous at the thought of him tasting your cooking this time. It was often the case you cooked for yourself and made enough for him to have some servings, but today, you wanted to make things he enjoyed in hopes of having him be pleased by the effort you put in. 

Sure, he would’ve appreciated a sloppily put together Adventurer’s Breakfast Sandwich, but an annoying part of you couldn’t help but seek praise from your crush for a dish you put your heart into. 

Soon enough, you heard the familiar jingling of keys and unlocking of the door as Zhongli stepped inside, slipping his shoes off and removing his overcoat. From the corner of your eye, you saw him pull out a small box from the inner pocket of his coat and slip it into the pocket of his slacks. 

“Hi, Zhongli! Welcome home,” you greeted from the kitchen as you shut the stove off. “You came just in time for me to finish making dinner.”

Home. Was calling your shared space ‘home’ strange? It seemed oddly domestic and you felt your heartbeat pick up speed. It felt right to call it home, and that made you nervous. 

“It smells delectable,” said Zhongli with a smile, rolling his sleeves up his forearms before he washed his hands in the sink. While he dried off, he watched as you scooped the contents of the pot into two bowls. “The bamboo looks perfectly cooked and the pork seems tender and succulent. It’s lovely; thank you for taking the time to cook it, Y/N.” 

You felt heat flood your cheeks at his flood of praises, puffing your chest up ever so slightly. “Well, maybe you should taste it first before you shower me in compliments— What if it’s not as good as it looks?” 

“Having knowledge of your culinary skills from past experiences, I believe it’s unlikely for this meal to be anything less than delicious.” He helped you carry the bowls and utensils to the dining room table, sitting down in front of you with a fond look on his face.“After all, you made it.”

Stuffing your mouth full of bamboo shoots to prevent a dopey look from spreading and inevitably outing your newfound crush on him, you mumbled a quick, “Thanks.” 

He nodded, promptly settling into a comfortable silence as he enjoyed every bite of the soup. Like usual, the meal was on the quieter side, save for his occasional compliments and hums of satisfaction as he ate your cooking. 

“Somehow, you manage to outdo yourself each time,” he commended as he finished his bowl, carefully folding his napkin in a neat square after dabbing it across his mouth. “Thank you for the meal and company, Y/N.”

“Of course. I always enjoy having dinner with you.” 

“Maybe tomorrow, you would allow me to take you out for dinner at Xinyue Kiosk? You recently expressed an interest in having Yue cuisine so I managed to talk to the owner and secure a reservation.” 

Your eyes widened. Xinyue Kiosk was known for having a waitlist that was over three-months long— Travellers from overseas waited years just to get a taste of their Fullmoon Egg and Golden Crab. 

Just a few days ago, you told Zhongli you were craving some Crystal Shrimp from the restaurant and, while he wasn’t fond of seafood, he promised he’d take you to get some soon. Now, you knew he had some pretty powerful connections through his line of work, but you didn’t know it was strong enough to wiggle his way past a three-month waitlist. 

Did he sell his left kidney for a spot? you wondered, only half-joking. 

“Xinyue Kiosk? Tomorrow?” you repeated, wanting to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Yes, tomorrow.” He hesitated, an unfamiliar flash of uncertainty crossing his features. “Unless, of course, you are unable to accompany me or do not wish to do so— I apologize if I have made any rash assumptions��” 

“No, no! That’s not it at all! I’d love to go with you! I was just surprised you got a reservation on such short notice,” you said hurriedly, shaking your head. “But maybe I shouldn’t be too shocked; you are amazing after all.” 

“You flatter me. I simply called in on a favor once I found out you wanted to dine on some Yue cuisine,” he brushed off nonchalantly. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

“The least you could do for me is take me on a fancy date to the most exclusive restaurant in Liyue Harbor, hmm?” you teased. “Is this a grand gesture of your affection towards me?” 

“Yes.” 

His answer was so straightforward and brief, you almost didn’t catch it. “P-pardon?” 

Zhongli smiled but didn’t say a word in response.

Was he just joking around and teasing you back? Your stomach churned in excitement but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. You tried to shake off your nerves. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“I made some Lotus Flower Crisps for us—!” “Would you care for a gift I got you—?”

The two of you blurted out your sentences at the same time, trying to patch the lapse of quiet from settling in.

“Apologies,” said Zhongli, tilting his head to the side. “What were you saying again?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! You can go first!” 

He studied you closely but eventually relented. “If you’re sure.” Zhongli stood up to gingerly pull a mint-colored box out of his pocket, walking around the table until he was next to you. “I was only saying I stopped by the jewelers on the way home from work and picked this up for you.” 

A silly smile spread across your face as you accepted the box into your hands. The jewelry box itself felt durable and luxe, and you opened it up to see cushions of velvet holding a delicate-looking necklace in place. The chain was gold and shiny and there was a small star pendant in the center.

“Stars are bright and brilliant and never fail to light up the darkness. Such a necklace seemed only fitting for the likes of you.” 

Your stomach felt like dolphins were flipping and doing tricks inside. Comparing someone to a star didn’t seem like a ‘just roommates’ thing to do, but you’d rather not assume anything only to be let down. So instead, you just grinned. “It’s beautiful— I love it so much, Zhongli! Thank you.” 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking. Do you need any assistance putting it on?” 

“I’d appreciate that very much,” you said with a nod, watching as his nimble fingers removed the chain from the velvet cushion and gently draped it around you. 

The cool metal brushed against your warm skin, startling you enough that you almost jumped up in your seat. But that feeling of shock didn’t compare to the sparks that came when Zhongli rested his palm against the nape of your neck, taking his time to secure the gold clasp.

“It’s 24 karat gold which means the pendant, though small, may be more malleable than jewelry made of alloyed gold. If you wish to engage in more strenuous physical activities it may be best to take it off then to keep the piece in best condition. Only if that’s to your interest, of course. It’s yours and you may do with it whatever you please.” He removed his fingers from the back of your neck and you felt disappointed at the loss of warmth. “All that to say… I hope you like it.”

Zhongli seemed to have a shy look on his face, a stark contrast from his usually confident and self-assured features. As if he didn’t look cute enough already, you internally swooned. 

“Are you kidding? I love it!” You threw your arms over his shoulders, overjoyed at your new gift. A pure, 24 karat gold piece wasn’t something that sounded inexpensive, and you’d be sure to treasure it for as long as you could. “Thank you so, so much, Zhongli.” 

“You’re more than welcome.” He looked happy that you were happy, smiling as he admired the delicate chain of jewelry around your neck. “It looks stunning on you.”

You glowed at his flattery, but attempted to play it off with a small shrug. “Only because you have good taste.”

“What use is good taste if not to complement the recipient of the present?” said Zhongli, taking a seat back down on the chair across from you. “Now, what were you saying earlier?”

There was a moment of confusion before you remembered the dessert you made for him cooling on the counter. 

“Oh, right!” You stood up in excitement, bouncing over to the kitchen to pull out a tray of Lotus Flower Crisps. “I made these for you,” you said nervously, placing the sweets in the center of the dining table. “It’s probably not as good of a gift as the necklace you got but—”

“It’s better,” he said with certainty.

You blinked. “Better?”

“Yes. After all, you made it.” His voice was confident and his smile was firm as he looked fondly at you. “A gift that requires time and effort to create is the best one a person could receive.” He admired the blooming fried pastry, gently touching the part that was meant to resemble a petal. “Maybe I can make you a gift instead of buying it one day as well.”

“I’d appreciate anything from you,” you said plainly. “If you came home with a half-off candybar, I’d love it nonetheless.” 

Zhongli chuckled, taking a bite of a Lotus Flower Crisp. “You’re very generous. That’s just one thing I like about you.” 

You grew bashful. Just one? Then what were the other things?

“This tastes absolutely delicious, by the way,” he said, the last piece of his pastry disappearing between his lips, the pink tip of his tongue poking out to sweep a loose crumb off the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for making this, Y/N.”

Forcibly tearing your gaze away from his lips, you took a drink of water to clear your dry throat. “You’re welcome. I’m happy you think so. I was worried the taste wouldn’t be to your liking.” 

“No need to worry then, I trust in your culinary skills completely.” 

You shared a smile as you ate the pastry in contentment. The sweet crispness of the pink flower felt light in your stomach, the perfect dessert to complement the mood. 

Once the two of you were stuffed full, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your conversation at the beginning of the night. 

“So…” you trailed off, promptly gathering Zhongli’s full attention. “Earlier, when I asked if dinner at Xinyue Kiosk  would be a date and a way for you to show your affection and you said yes… You weren’t joking around?”

“I wouldn’t jest about such a thing,” he stated. “Besides, I was talking to Aether about you and he said we were practically dating already. I wasn’t too sure what he meant at first, but apparently it’s not commonplace for roommates to give each other gifts and spend meals together like this.” 

You flushed, having the decency to look sheepish. “Well, I guess he’s right about that. Not that it really matters what’s common or not as long as we both enjoy it,” you said assuredly despite your fluttering heart. You found your hand gravitating towards the small star pendant around your neck. You held it between your thumb and forefinger, finding both comfort and courage in the smooth metal. “Still… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of dating.”

He smiled when he noticed you holding onto the gift he got for you. “I agree. With you as a partner, the prospect of dating doesn’t sound particularly tedious. Perhaps a nice dinner out would be a good starting point into something more… Official, I believe is the word Aether used?” 

Official. You quite liked the sound of that. “I’d love that. A real, official date sounds nice,” you said with a grin, removing your hands from your necklace only to place it over his, clasping them gently. “Anything to spend more time with you.” 

Zhongli gave you a gentle squeeze back. “It’s a date then. And I’m rather looking forward to it.” 

Fondly, you wondered how your roommate who you once could barely even stand turned into someone so important to you. You went from two objects repelling each other in space, to a binary star system, gravitational bound together. 

“I’m looking forward to it too.”

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.1

Author’s Note:  How’s everyone liking the story so far?  Kinda getting into my head about how stiff the writing is.  Maybe it just feels stiff to me, idk.  Anyways, here’s an early chapter!

"So, why are your eyes different colors?"  Childe caught you alone while you gathered firewood a few yards away from the camp.  The sun had long set, leaving you to rely on a lantern and the dim light of the distant fire.  He was limping from your sparring session earlier.

You had beat him.

And man, did it feel good.

"We crossed paths with a merchant that was traveling from Fontaine.  He said they're 'contacts.'  Basically little objects a person can put across their pupils and change their color," you repeated the rehearsed words a little too perfectly for Childe to believe.

"Oh?  I've never heard of that invention before," he tested.

"I guess it's new?  Like the kamera devices they recently developed? Aether has one of those."  You watched as he kept his hands idle at his sides.

"Interesting.  And Aether was the one who told you to say this to me?"  He blocked your path to the fire by placing a hand against the tree that stood behind you.  What a terrible liar you make, ojou-chan.  His friendly smile never left his lips, but it never reached his eyes.  They were cold and demeaning as they examined yours.

"I-I," you stumbled over your words.  "Why are you acting so weird, Childe?" You tried to laugh him off and attempted to duck under his arm.  What to say, what to say! Oh, maybe this'll work?  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're acting like a schoolboy crushing on one of his friends."

It might have been a wrong move.

He pinned your shoulders to the tree and made sure no one had their eyes on the two of you.  "On the contrary, you began acting strangely the minute I found you today."  Something in his gaze faltered as he replayed your words in his head. Perhaps I am acting like a schoolboy. But I can't help it if I'm infatuated with my target.  His eyes fell to the shimmering necklace resting against your collarbone, and he gently touched it.  "This is new."

"Don't touch that," you slapped his hand away.

"I don't recall you wearing such a genuine cor lapis charm before.  Where'd you get this from?"

"It was my Granny's."

Childe scrunched his nose at the answer, a brief look of internal conflict passing over his face like a cloud.  'Was?' The woman passed? I made sure she wouldn't get hurt by my men.  So then how did she--  He wanted to ask until the realization struck him.  They went to Quince Village after my leaving.  She saw the Fatui there--

You were too enraged to notice him visually fight himself and approached the campsite with an armful of branches.  You made a point to sit next to Xiao and glared at the Harbinger as he returned.

He maintained eye contact with you, even after sitting across the fire from you and the yaksha.  Your pupils seemed to glow from his perspective.  The fire licked the air in between you until all he could make out was the anger in your eyes.  She knows.  He mentally kicked himself, but only partially because of the possible complications this could pose for Signora and her grand plan.  If you were this angry, there was a chance you had told the yaksha.  And if the yaksha saw the Fatui, or at least heard of what you thought happened, then there's a chance he told Mr. Zhongli.  While he could not break the contract with the Tsaritsa, he'd find a way around the stated rules.  He made a fool of Childe once; he could do it again.

Childe didn't care in the slightest about fighting the entire group--though he was a bit afraid of facing the yaksha despite his urge to fight every living thing on Teyvat.  The only thing that mattered to him was you.  And if you were angry enough to fight, vision or not, he'd have to take you by force.  You may hold a special place in his heart, but his feelings for you meant nothing compared to his loyalty for the Tsaritsa.

One chance, the harbinger strengthened his resolve. I'll give her one chance to prove herself.  If she fails, I won't hesitate to take that which will secure Snezhnaya's future.

...................................................................

Several days passed by without incident--

--Is what I'd like to say, but unfortunately, that didn't hold true for you.

Childe and his unrelenting pleas for battles continued to reach your ears day in and day out.  He was the one that was attached to your hip, not Xiao.  You had only realized today that Childe was around you more often than the yaksha ever since he greeted you with a jumpscare at Luhua Pool.  To make matters worse, Xiao neglected to make a move towards him.

She can handle herself, he thought after witnessing the stunts you pulled on Childe.  Xiao recognized that the movements you were using as his own; perhaps there was an upside to you unconsciously peeking in on his memories.  He put himself on standby when he came to the realization.  But make no mistake, he would and will protect you if things got out of hand with the harbinger.  He just figured he'd take a step back and quietly observe his weak points, just like the old days.  The days in which Childe did not pose a serious threat to the group; when all that was between you and the harbinger was harmless bickering.

It would seem like those old days were still fresh to an outsider, but as the days passed by, you were growing increasingly frustrated with Childe's behavior.  After all, how could he continue to play the part of an oblivious comrade, when it was clear as day that the tensions within the group were growing?  How could he even call you a comrade with a straight face? How was it that he felt no remorse for his actions toward Granny when he looked you in the eye?

How was it that he could be so carefree?

Maybe part of you envied him for it.  Your inner grumblings did you no favor in the present moment though; the team had stepped into the western side of Dragonspine.  Your four coats made almost no difference against the sheer cold, and your body shivered uncontrollably even though warmer weather was only a hundred yards behind you.

Everyone except Xiao and Aether wore warm clothes, and it looked like the poor outlander regretted his decision to forego the garments.  Xiao appeared to be unbothered and more energetic than usual.  Childe looked like he was right at home with the weather, his shirt still sloppily unbuttoned to reveal his toned body underneath.  Bennet walked alongside you and was replacing Zhongli for the time being.

Snowflakes lazily floated their way down to earth, but they did nothing to grab your attention when the wind continued to howl against the team's direction.  You caught Xiao letting snow collect in his hand with an almost childlike wonder, but he glared at you when he found you staring.

"I want to find some dragon teeth for a sword and since you haven't been here before I thought it'd be a good idea to show you around," Aether called out to you over his shoulder, his arms crossing over his bare stomach for an ounce of warmth.

"You're insane!"

Aether's laugh mixed with the clattering of his teeth.  "You only live once, right?"  You removed two of your coats and threw them over his head.  "T-t-thanks."

You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you were smiling at him, only for your gaze to lock with Xiao's look of disapproval.  'Mortals are fragile,' you interpreted his frown and giggled.  

"Here we go!" Bennet lit the firepit with his flaming sword and knelt down in front of it.  Everyone joined him;  Aether was especially close to the flames.

"It's kind of annoying to find fire every five minutes," you shivered violently.  "And you practically go up here for fun?"  

"It gets easier the more we do it," Paimon giggled with a nervous smile.  "Besides, we get to mine starsilver and find cool dragon stuff that we can sell--"

"Don't lump me in with you," Aether piped up without moving away from the fire.

The distant sound of a conversation was carried over by a bone-chilling breeze.  "Huh?  Should we go check it out?"  Paimon stared in the direction the vague voices were coming from.

"U-uh-huh," nodded Aether.

The group stumbled over a hill only to find the body cavity of Durin.  While it threw you off, the sight around the remains was what chilled you to the bone.  Of course there's Fatui here, you scoffed.

"I see a tooth over there too,"  Aether whined.

"What's everyone looking at me for?"  Childe let out a nervous chuckle and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.  "These aren't my guys."

"We know," Paimon cooed.

"That's why we want you to go talk to them and let us pass," Aether held the smuggest expression you've ever seen him pull off.

"Uh...I'm not under any jurisdiction to--"

"Do it," you ordered with cold eyes.  When he locked eyes with you, you stood on your tip-toes and spoke in his ear.  "Prove your loyalty to the group."

"My loyalty, ojou-chan," his eyes narrowed significantly, "lies with Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."

"Uh-oh," Paimon poofed out of existence.

"Uh, guys?  Those Fatui agents are approaching us reeeaal fast," Bennett warned.  

The two of you broke eye contact to find that he was right.  One electro and two geo skirmishers were walking towards the group.  Poofing would be a more accurate description.  Childe gave you a final look before he hopped over a log to greet them.

"Greetings!"  He didn't smile, and the skirmishers stopped in their tracks.

"Master Childe?  We didn't realize you'd be joining us on the mountain."  The three of them knelt out of respect.

"It's a surprise visit, really.  I came to check on your progress--"  The group made their way around the Fatui and Aether yanked the large tooth out of the ground while Childe chattered away with his subordinates.

[epicbasher65685]

(Soo yeah a few people wanted to read this so here it is. sorry I can’t write for anything but I tried my hardest to get my head cannon across)

TW: descriptions of blood and gore, abuse

“What a fantastic song! No one could ever go wrong with the brilliant song “Let’s Misbehave” by none other than the darb Cole Porter!” Alastor exclaimed excitedly with his powerful transatlantic accent into the microphone. “Truly a marvelous performance. Anywho! The bayou killer strikes again! That’s right folks you heard it here first! The bayou killer claims their 11th victim! Oh the tragedy! There seems to be a pattern in this killer’s cycle. The moon cycle! Who would’ve guessed? And who will be the twelfth on the full moon? What kind of monster from hell could possibly cause this much pain and torture to both the victims and their families?” He questioned the listeners. His smile grew bigger at his sarcastic yet genuine sounding empathy. Deep within him he knew there was none. If he tried to look any deeper in himself the only thing we would find would be the rumbling of his stomach and it’s almost snickering like sounds, laughing mischievously and knowingly at his sarcastic line of questioning. Alastor reached over and closed the report he was reading from with a resounding thud, a look of accomplishment graced his face. The listeners were shocked with the news, seeing that the killer is still at large and could pounce on them or their loved ones at any moment. “Lock your doors and stay safe ladies and gentlemen! This concludes tonight’s broadcast. Oh oh! Almost forgot the regularly scheduled joke! Just to lighten the mood a bit. What happened when the cannibal was late for dinner? He got the cold shoulder! Ahahahahaha! See you tomorrow folks, stay safe!” He said brightly as he ended his radio broadcast, turning off his equipment and microphone.

The streets were full of Ebullience and joyful spirit. The year was 1933. New Orleans, Louisiana was really quite a marvelous and interesting place to live. Alastor McCarthy walked down the sidewalk in his clean white shirt and suspenders, shoes polished so thoroughly you can see the bright sun and the blue sky reflecting off of it! All the Cadillacs and Buicks cruised down the smoothly paved road. Almost everyone in this town knew Alastor. And Alastor knew almost everyone just as well. The lovely people waved as they saw him walk by, and he of course would wave back with a friendly smile on his face. He was always smiling! One happy fellow indeed, everyone would imagine. He walked down the sidewalk with a pep in his step softly humming to the bustling jazz that played from the gramophones in the nearby shops. He was making his way home now, it was almost supper and he needed to help his mother prepare it! Oh yes, Alastor loved his mother dearly, she was a true light in his life. People like to tease him sometimes and call him somewhat of a mama's boy. He would be lying if he protested this though. He truly loved his mother. His father, however, he did not. Just the thought of him made Alastors smile falter, just a smidge. He was a real goof, and a drunk. Alastor despised him, but only put up with him because his mother still loved him. Alastor could never see what an amazing woman like herself could ever find in a hunk of junk like him.

The noise of the streets died down as he started to approach his neighborhood. The walk from the radio station to his house was only a 30 minute or so walk. He figured it was good exercise and also an efficient way to build up his appetite. When Alastor wasn’t doing his radio broadcasts, he would find himself hunting deer in the nearby bayou. His father showed him how to hunt when he was a young boy. He had mastered the art of hunting and butchering the creatures he captured. Whether it be deer, rabbit, boar… human. His mother taught him the culinary arts, which he soon too mastered. He would help his mother prepare jambalaya, his favorite dish, when he was younger. He reminisced about those good ol’ days. Well, most of it at least. He had finally arrived home.

“Hello mother! Father.” He called out into the calm house. He took his shoes off and saw his mother appear from the kitchen.

“Oh! Alastor, how I’ve missed you dear.” She said lovingly as she ran toward Alastor to hug him. “How was your day? Anything exciting happening down in that ol’ radio station? I completely forgot to tune in today. Silly me. Apologies!”

“No need mother, it was just business as usual, quite copacetic! We had our top music hits and, well, a quite shocking report on the bayou killer.” Alastor explained

“Oh? Was he murdered? Oh oh! Caught by the fuzz? Hot dawg!” She exclaimed in excitement.

“...No mother, he was not. Always jumping to conclusions! Ahahaha. My, that’s just like you!” He said. Her words pained him only in the slightest. She obviously disliked this killer. Yet she unknowingly loved this said killer more than anyone else. He felt a sick giddy because of this. Why, he found it quite humorous! How twisted. “He’s claimed his 11th victim, unfortunately.” He said with a softer voice.

“Oh dear… how horrible. I can’t believe he’s getting away with this! Someone has to stop him eventually.” She said with sadness in her eyes. Alastor didn’t like to see her like this, not ever!

“Yes I know, quite the tragedy I’m sure. I heard he was a rude man however, a real dewdropper as some may say! The man had nothing going for him anyways.” He explained, or rather explained himself, for that matter.

“Darlene, when the hell is that dinner going to be finished?” Gus, Alastors father, yelled from the living room couch. He had just finished his twelfth beer of the day. Alastor could hear the subtle clinks of the glass bottle against the cup holder. Indicating that yes, he had indeed gotten drunk again.

“It’ll be ready in about half an hour dear!” She yelled back, Completely forgetting about the news of the bayou killer. An audible groan sounded from the living room in response.

“Alastor, would you be a dear and help me peel the potatoes for dinner?” She questioned

“Of course mother! Let’s get started then shall we?” Alastor asked joyfully.

Once dinner was prepared and the table was set, Alastor’s mother called for Gus to come and eat. Another audible groan sounded from the living room as Gus managed to stand up, very blotto from all his drinks. Without anyone seeing, Alastor was quick to drop a pill into Gus’s drink at the table. He then turned away and started to whistle an innocent jazz tune.

“Oh, Alastor, I almost forgot about the pie in the oven. Would you mind taking it out for me and cutting it’s pieces?” She asked him kindly. Alastor responded with a quick ‘yep!’ and put on the oven mitts. He took the pie out and put it on the stove. He took his mitts off and placed them back on the counter, only to replace them with a knife. Without hesitation he stuck the knife into the steaming pie. It smelt like delicious baked cherries. The pie oozed red juice and covered the knife. He continued to cut even slices into the beautiful pie. He stared longingly at his work, admiring the precise cuts and the knife dripping red juice. He licked the knife clean and saw his father's reflection walking into the room when he looked at the knife. He stared for a moment, then put the knife into the sink. Gus finally arrived at the table as everyone sat down.

“So what do we have here?” Gus questioned as he occasionally hiccuped. He had messy black hair and his eyes were half lidded. He wore a black vest with his tie sloppily tied.

“Well I made venison, mashed potatoes, and beans for tonight. That damn venison was quite tricky to cook, but hopefully I got it just right.” She explained

“I’m sure it turned out great, mother.” He smiled at her. Alastor eyed his father as he sat down. Gus started digging in with the slightest amount of politeness. Hungrily shoving the food into his mouth. Alastor sighed and picked up his utensils to start eating.

“What is it boy? You’ve got something to say?” He snapped at Alastor. Glaring at him with whatever amount of sobriety he had left.

“No, sir.” Alastor responded while staring at his plate. He hated this. He hated his father and he hated how he treated both him and his mother. Not to mention how rude he was. All of the bayou killers victims reminded him of his father. What a coincidence huh? No, he chose them very carefully, and he planned out every bit of it. Every time he killed them he imagined as though the person was truly his father. It gave him satisfaction and it quenched his thirst, for the time being. But this thirst would always reappear. He could never get rid of it through these involuntary murders of his, and he knew this. He knew it would only be a matter of time before… he would claim his final victim. That’s all Alastor thought about when he looked his father in the eyes. The twelfth. The twelfth. The twelfth. The second full moon. It will complete his design.

“Whatever,” He sneered at Alastor. Gus downed his drink in a few gulps. Alastor watched with a smile. Then Gus began to cut into the venison, and suddenly there was an irritated look on his face. “This venison is overcooked.” He started while he looked up at Darlene.

“Oh, yes I was afraid that might happen…” Darlene quietly said with a look of disappointment appearing on her face.

“Isn’t that just perfect? Maybe you should learn how to cook properly instead of having a gay ol’ time dancing swing like a flapper at the club down the road. Dumb-Dora can’t do anything right can you? Darlene was taken back by his sudden outburst. She apologized and told him it wouldn’t happen again with a tinge of fear spreading on her face and tears threatening to breach her eyes.

“Well, actually, I do have something to say,” Alastor said as he interrupted his mother’s apologies. “Maybe if you stopped getting bent everyday like a normal person, maybe people might actually like you! You’re such a flat tire and a real boozehound. You think it’s ok to treat us like this? For crying out loud you’ve been doing this for years! You just futz around and do whatever you want, when you want, and how you want!” Alastor exclaimed loudly at his father while eyeing him with a scornful look. He wasn’t going to let him talk to his mother that way, no sir! Enough was enough. Darlene looked at Alastor in shock. She really can’t believe he said that to him. A wave of panic hits her knowing what’s going to come next.

“Why, you little! How dare you talk to me like that? I come home after a long day and this is what I get? A cheap meal and a disrespectful family?” Gus’s voice grew louder and louder with every word he spoke. He pointed to Alastor. “You… I’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face permanently!” Gus stood up and walked over to Alastors side of the table. Alastor and Darlene stood up quickly, knowing this situation is about to become physical.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Darlene shouted as she grabbed hold of Alastors arm. Alastor backed up while the adrenaline started coursing through his veins. Gus took hold of Darlene and threw her against the counter. She fell on the way down with a yelp hitting her head on the edge of the counter. Darlene’s vision started to blur and soon after she drifted into unconsciousness as she heard the faint yelling of Alastor.

“You absolute madman! Now look what you’ve done. You’re some real tough guy hm? Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy my next show, you’re the super important participant, after all!” Alastor said with a growing smile. His creole accent slipping out for only a moment as he yelled. “Aren’t you excited?”

“What are you… talking about..?” Gus talked as his words became sloppy and quiet. The once calming and peaceful kitchen warping and turning in place as his vision grew cloudy and dark. His eyes lidded fully, the last thing he saw before he fell to the ground was Alastors prideful smile. Alastor thought Gus would pull something like this. All this commotion, that is. Yet it was in the back of his mind as was planning out his demise. He stared at Gus for a good while, lying there helplessly. Although this isn’t exactly how he planned it out, he was still ultimately satisfied with the outcome. That is, until he remembered his mother lying on the ground. Her nicely combed and silky brunette hair in a bun was now frizzing out everywhere, the bun loosened from the altercation. Her lids shielding her innocent blue eyes to what has become of her husband, and the truth of her faithful son. Alastor slowly picked her up and placed her on the couch. He took an ice pack from the kitchen and placed it on the noticeable bump on her forehead.

“Do wake up soon, won’t you?” He whispered to her. He kissed her forehead and made his way into the kitchen. He managed to pick his father up with a few strained breathes, grabbed the knife out of the sink, and walked out the backdoor.

It was about 8pm now, and the sun had already cast its final flare. Only to replace it, was a thoughtless moon. Alastor navigated his way throughout his backyard and soon into the bayou unseen. Gus remained unconscious and hung over Alastors shoulder. Once Alastor traversed deep enough into the bayou. He tied Gus up to an old bald cypress tree. It’s leaves spaced out enough to let the moonlight fall and flicker between them. A few moments later, Gus finally awoke to a conscious state. Confused and dazed to where he was, and how he got there.

“Hello lucky contestant! Welcome to my show!” Alastor exclaimed in a cheerful announcer voice.

“Al? Where.. where the hell am I?” He said in a choked voice. He tried to move his arms, but they were restrained by a tightly tied rope. “What the hell are you doing?” He said as his voice wavering. Alastor took out his knife and walked slowly up to Gus. Gus watched every little movement Alastor made, his adrenaline rising with each step.

“Oh you poor thing. Haven’t you realized what’s happening by now?” Alastor teased as he lunged playfully forward, causing Gus to gasp and defensively lean back in the tree. ‘How pathetic’ Alastor thought to himself. “What? Don’t tell me your giving me the cold shoulder! Ahahahahahaha!” Alastor laughed at his silly little inside joke. He lowered himself to Gus’s level on the ground and pointed the knife at his chest. “Boy that thing must be pounding! I think I’ll eat your heart first!” Alastor exclaimed once again. Gus’s face was pale with fear as the knife slowly etched its way inside of his chest, blood soaking his already stained shirt. He screamed in excruciating pain as Alastor carved all the way down to his waistline. Exposing his organs and blood to the everlasting moonlight. Gus writhed in pain as he looked Alastor in the eyes.

“Y-you…killed them?” Gus managed to choke out. Disbelief filled his eyes.

“Hmm? Oh! That’s correct!” Alastor said while he backed up, admiring his work. Alastor looked down at his hands and his cuffed sleeves. The blood dripping off of his hands was much more black then the usual dark red.

“My! The mother was right! Blood really does look black in the moonlight,” He said. His smile unwavering and as prominent as always. That was the last thing Gus saw as his vision started to melt away for the last time. Alastor kneeled beside Gus and pulled out his heart behind his rib cage. He took a big bite from it without hesitation, just like how one would eat an apple. He noted that it tasted almost the same as a deers.

Soon after, a sudden rush of panic struck Alastor as he heard a males voice calling close by. He quickly turned toward the sound and saw multiple men in the distance holding flashlights pointing in Alastors direction. He hopped to his feet in a frenzy and ran deeper into the bayou. It was dark and he could barely see where he was running, but all he knew was that he needed to get away. It was only a matter of time the cops had found him. The pattern was quite obvious, Alastor knew. Yet, he thought it was orderly and scheduled, and that was something he’s always taken to heart. As he was running, he recalled his fondest memories and previous murders as the cops chased him on his tail. He knew this was it for him, unless he could throw them off somehow. Quickly, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a figure. It was a lone deer. It looked him in the eye without movement. The deer eyed him knowingly. The full moon shining between its broad antlers.

Suddenly, the night and day remembered how they came to be. Alastor glared back at this deer, his smile wavering as he was shot dead in the forehead with a rifle. He fell to the ground as his smile fell completely. A hunter had missed the deer, accidentally shooting Alastor killing him instantly. Surely it was too dark for the hunter to have seen him. There was no hope for him. Then, the deer quickly ran off into the deep bayou startled from the shadow of nobody there.

[marlmckitten]

Can you do a jealous!Marlene Blackinnon smut? Where Sirius teaches at a Muggle school and one day, Mar decides to supreme him, only to find a fellow colleague all over him and then smut? Also, Marlene and Sirius are already dating. If yes, then thank you sooooo much but if you are not comfortable then it's okay. P.S. Hope you are better now! XOXO!

Thank you thank you! And I like this idea a lot~ I hope I can do it justice! Also I apologize for my really bad habit of never re-reading or editing my work lately!

It was nearing their two year anniversary, as Marlene’s friends kept reminding her. They were not usually the couple for fancy dates and anniversaries and stuff like that. They were quite content with just throwing some insults at each other and finishing their day with sex, or starting it with sex. The point was, they had their relationship exactly how they liked it. It may not be traditional but they were happy. And neither were the most comfortable with bearing their feelings. But, after Lily had reminded Marlene for the 7th time in 3 days, she finally decided at the very least she could surprise him at his work. They didn’t do anything for their first anniversary but maybe she could at least show up with some food for him and see what he liked so much about teaching at a muggle school. She hadn’t even seen the place yet so it wasn’t an entirely bad idea.

She waited until it was nearly lunch hour at the school, grabbed some of their favourite cinnamon buns from a nearby bakery and contemplated bringing some wine but realized that was probably frowned upon. So instead she just grabbed a sparkling soda and made her way to her boyfriends work. She misjudged the time a little, it appeared the lunch break had already started and she had to wander around the school hallways to find him. Eventually someone pointed her in the direction of a staff room and she went there, poking her head in. An older lady smiled and greeted her, but informed her that he had just went to a colleagues classroom to help her with something. Getting more frustrated, she stormed off to where she said that they would be. This is what she got for being thoughtful, had to walk around school hallways for 20 minutes, at this rate by the time she found him, class would resume.

At last she recognized Sirius’ voice, and waked up to the room, she was about to announce herself and push open the door when she heard a very flirtatious giggle from what sounded like a much younger woman than the nice lady who told her where to find her boyfriend. Marlene’s eyes immediately narrowed as she peaked through the tiny opening and watched a young brunette, laugh at some stupid joke and run her hand down Sirius’ arm. She was waiting for her boyfriend to walk away but he didn’t, he smiled at her and leaned back on her desk as they continued talking. When the woman tossed her hair back and told Sirius how nice his arms where, Marlene felt her face flush bright red and she kicked the door open, glaring at the pair of them.

Sirius turned when he heard the noise, his face light up, “Marls! What’re you doing here?” He sounded genuinely happy to see her, as if he wasn’t just about to cheat on her with a school teacher who honestly looked more like a pornstar in Marlene’s eyes right now.

Of course, the female teacher frowned, “Marls? Who is she?” She asked Sirius.

Marlene’s eyebrows raised and Sirius immediately stood up and held his hands up in surrender, “Marlene, I promise I talk about you all the time, Right Clara?” He turned to his coworker hopefully.

Trouble brewed behind Clara’s eyes and she supressed a smirk, “Sorry no, Sirius. I’ve never heard her name in my life. Is she your aunt or something?”

This set Marlene off, “OKAY MISS SLUTTY PORN BITCH, YOU BACK AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND THIS INSTANT!”

Sirius shut his eyes and covered a chuckle with a laugh, “Hey, darling? This is a school you really can’t-”

“I wasn’t the one about to fuck a horny school teacher so don’t you dare tell me what I can or can’t do!”

Clara’s mouth dropped, “I cannot see what you see in this woman.”

“YOU, SHUT UP!” Shouted Marlene, “With your waving your stupid hair around and touching his arms and your general being a whore attitude.”

Sirius finally walked over to Marlene, put his hand on his shoulder and kissed her cheek, “Darling, there was no fucking to be had, she needed help moving her classroom around and I agreed.”

Marlene was still glaring at the woman though. Clara smiled, “Sorry I thought you were his aunt, I just can’t picture you two as a couple and he never said anything about a girlfriend.”

Sirius had to hold Marlene back, “Clara, please don’t do this. She isn’t well known for her patience and calmness.” He kissed Marlene’s head lovingly, “She knows I have a girlfriend, and if we don’t look like a couple it’s only because you’re way too hot for me,” he tried, it worked, she stopped fighting him to get at the girl but still was not happy.

Luckily the same older lady walked by, her brows were furrowed, “Is everything okay in here? A student said he heard some shouting!”

Sirius nodded, running a hand through his girlfriends hair, “Sorry Mrs Gaglardi, just a misunderstanding.”

Mrs Gagladrdi sighed, “Again Clara?” Marlene chucked. “I do apologize, she seems to not hear when people talk about their relationships, but it is nice to meet you Marlene, I have heard so much about you from Sirius. He really is smitten with you. Even has some pictures of you two up in his classroom, he never even comes to faculty events because he says he wants to spend the time with you. Apparently he hasn’t invited you because you have a temper that he says he finds adorable but most people do not.” She looked around. “Clearly he was right.”

Marlene chewed her lip, “Erm.. yeah,” was all she could manage, Sirius’ hand found the small of her back and began to push her out of the classroom.

“Sorry about the miscommunication I’m just gonna go and take her away now,” he apologized to Mrs Gaglardi and walked away with Marlene. Neither of them spoke until he guided her into his classroom and shut the door, Marlene looked around and noticed that he really did have pictures of them together at his desk.

“So.... That Clara girl seems like a bitch.”

“I really did not know she was trying to come onto me!”

Marlene looked at him.

“Okay I knew, but she always does any extra work I have to do after hours which means I get to come home and see you and I did not think you would ever meet her.”

“Well don’t talk to her again, I don’t like her.”

He laughed, “Whatever you want McKitten. So.. why are you here anyway?”

“Oh,” she held up the paper bag with his lunch in it, “I uh... came to surprise you. You know, anniversary tomorrow and all so, hi?”

He took the bag and placed it on his desk, wrapping his arms around Marlene, “Hi,” he whispered before kissing her, “Never thought you’d be the type.... Lily’s behind this isn’t she?”

Marlene rolled her eyes, “Whatever, I was being thoughtful so, you’re welcome, see you later,” she went to talk away but Sirius grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, pushing her against his desk and kissing her again. Marlene broke off the kiss, “Don’t you have to teach?” As if on queue the bell went off but Sirius kept her exactly where she was, she looked at him questioningly, “I’m not really into snogging in front of a bunch of kids, Sirius.”

“It’s Professor Black while we are in this room, McKinnon,” he smirked, “And my kids are on a field trip for the afternoon, I volunteered to stay behind and finish marking some tests but... it seems something more pressing has come into my office.”

“It’s not an office it’s a classroom,” Marlene retorted.

“Professor.”

“What?”

His hand tangled into her hair, “You forgot to call me Professor, or Sir. Whichever suits you best.” He pulled on her hair and Marlene let out a simple, betraying her cool exterior. “That’s what I thought.” She didn’t have anything else to say, she licked her lips and looked up to him, “And I believe, you should be punished for talking back to me.”

“Okay,” she breathed, he tugged her hair harder and raised his eyebrows. She realized what she had said, “I mean.. Yes, Sir.” Marlene felt his erection stiffen on her thigh, it didn’t take much to turn him on, her lips twitched into a smile and her hand went to play with the outside of his pants, he growled into her ear and began kissing her neck, sloppily, but she knew he couldn’t help himself, he picked her up and plopped her onto the desk, she spread her legs and moved herself back, looking at him, watching him examine her and go between her face and looking at her now very exposed thighs. “Are you going to punish me, Professor? Maybe I could make it up to you?”

His hands went up her skirt and his lips found hers again, hungry and wanting to taste her. She moaned into the kiss, letting his hands ghost over her core, she felt herself getting wet at just the lightest touch, and felt his smirk in their kiss as he could feel her warmth and her need. “I think we can work something out, Miss McKinnon,” he said once he pulled away from her again. This time he took a few steps back, “Take your clothes off.”

She looked at him innocently, “All of them?”

“Now,” Sirius demanded.

She did as she was told, getting off the desk and removing article after article until she was completely naked. Marlene decided to tease him a little, she looked down at herself and ran her fingers over her body, circling her nipples and playing with them between her fingers, “Now what, Professor Black?”

It was clear that Sirius was trying hard to keep up the facade when all he wanted was to fuck her. Marlene squeezed her breasts then let go, letting them jiggle as they fell into place. “Fuck,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

“What was that professor?” She feigned innocence again.

“Good girl,” he cooed, something that instantly made her stomach tighten, and warmth grow through her, God she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. “Now come and take these ridiculous pants off for me.” He gestured to him, she considered denying his request but saw how tight they had become as his member grew harder, desperate for release. She went over to him, slowly got onto her knees and then took her time unbuckling his belt. A low growl emitted from her boyfriends throat, “Do it faster.” She did. In no time at all, his pants and boxers were around his ankles and his cock sprang to life. “You know what to do,” he told her. She licked her lips and pushed him all the way down her throat, nearly choking herself. He moaned, his hands grabbed her hair and pushed himself further into her. This time she did choke, he let up a little but she didn’t let him leave her mouth completely. He tasted divine. Her tongue flicked over his balls and she began bobbing her head, she looked up to him and he was looking down at her, clearly enjoying the sight. But it only lasted a minute, before he pulled her hair until his rock hard cock popped out of her mouth.

“I wasn’t done,” she complained, but he kicked the pants off his ankles and marched her to the desk, throwing her towards it.

“Bend over,” he instructed. Her breasts touched the cold wood of the desk, she wiggled her butt in the air and her hands grasped either side of the desk, while her head turned just enough to see the lust on his face. “Beautiful,” he breathed, his finger teased her clit before slipping inside of her, feeling how wet and ready for him she was. “Perfect.”

Without another thought, he slammed himself deep inside of her. They both moaned loudly at the feeling. Marlene was filled up perfectly by him and her grip on the desk tightened. “Fuck,” she said as he pulled out and slammed into her again.

“What was that?” He asked, pulling out but not reentering this time. “Did you want something Miss McKinnon?”

He was bluffing, she knew he was. He wanted this just as much as she did, but she didn’t care. “Pl- please sir, fuck me. I deserve it for talking back. Fuck me hard and fast.”

He did. His cock rammed into her so hard, the entire desk banged against the wall loudly, it didn’t stop either of them. She whimpered and he did it again. He felt so good inside of her, she needed more, she pushed herself against him and they began moving in perfect rhythm with one another. They were both letting out profanities as she felt warmth through every single one of her limbs. Her fingers gripped the desk so tightly that they were going white, and her hips were surely getting bruised by repeatedly hitting the desk. But none of that mattered as much as the feeling of him inside of her. His fingers found her clit again and began stimulating it and she couldn’t remember how to even breath. A loud shrill voice filled the room that she did not even recognize as her own. She heard his grunt behind her and eventually heard him telling her to cum. Marlene knew it was because he was just as close as she was and he applied more pressure on her clit. An orgasm ripped through her entire body, she screamed out in pleasure and then felt him explode inside of her, filling her with his juice. He pumped into her more slowly a few times, while they both came down from their high. She panted and now could feel his sweaty body collapsing on hers, arms wrapping tightly around her and kissing her back in a million tiny kisses. “I love you,” he told her, still inside of her, not wanting leave the warmth of her body just yet.

She turned, he finally removed himself from her insides and she felt how full she was with his semen, it dripped down her legs, but she didn’t care, “I love you too,” she said, kissing his lips gently. Eventually Sirius leaned down to pass her clothes to her before pulling his own pants back up. Her legs were still shaking from her orgasm as she dressed. “How did- Are you going to get into trouble?” She asked, now having it dawn on her just how loud they were.

What she didn’t expect was his child-like grin and a wink, “Nah I think we are okay.”

“How?”

“James gave me a heads up,” he admitted, “I asked Clara to pretend to hit on me, she’s married, has some kids, not my type at all. Knew it would get you jealous. I already sound-proofed this room before you came and asked Clara to combine our classes for next period because I had an errand to run.”

Her jaw dropped open, “You- you?!”

Stepping closer to her, he ran his thought her hair and down her back, eventually resting it on her ass. He leaned down and kissed her again, “I don’t think you minded that much, Miss McKinnon?”

That, she could not argue with, but she still felt played, “I’ll see you at home, Professor. But you owe me.”

Sirius chuckled, “Oh I’m sure I’ll find a way to make it up to you.

[sluttysan]

ATEEZ trying mutual masturbation with you

✰Seonghwa:

Seonghwa is down to try anything that includes you and him in a bed naked together

And he already is a dominant person as your bf, but he’s still gentle and sweet

But he loved any chance to break out of his sweet and gentle nature

Which he never failed to show you when it comes to your sexual experiences with him

So you’ll always get a little bit more of his dominant side, even when he wasn’t allowed to touch you

And you bet he was more than ready to take you up on your offer

He finds fun in this way more than you’d think 

So you’ll be surprised to see how you will end up being the one who couldn't handle not touching him

And did he take this opportunity to tease you? 100% most definitely he did 

Seonghwa will keep eye contact as he rubbed his growing cock, saying the dirtiest shit to you

“Fuck, look how hard I am getting for you. Too bad you can’t suck me off” 

“You like watching me stroke my cock like this, don’t you?”

He’ll even start instructing you on how to touch yourself

“Open your legs wider, let daddy see you finger yourself”

His eye contact will be so intense

Ends up controlling the situation

“Don’t cum without me”

When he lets you cum, he’ll continue to watch you 

Then he’d release himself, groaning shamelessly as he cums on his thigh

✰Hongjoong:

Is crazy in love with masturbating with you

Like the idea is so exhilarating to him

Boy strokes his cock very quickly 

And moans super loudly

Enjoys it more than you do tbh

Like doing something he once only did in private in front of you was exciting to him

Edges himself to try to last longer than you

Like he’ll jerk himself off until he feels like he’ll cum

But then he’ll stop himself and catch his breath

Is the type to still find ways to touch you

Bc as much as he tried, he just has to

Like when you least expect it, he’ll grab you by the neck and sloppily makeout with you for like 10 secs

And his lips would be on yours before you could do anything about it cheater

He’ll also nibble on your neck 

But like it’s helping you get closer to your climax so you wouldn’t mind

He really gets lost in the moment tbh and will probably end up cumming before you anyways

Expect to witness how he sounds as he’s getting himself off when you’re not around

Like how he’d let out a few staggering moans and grunt as he came

And he cums all over his stomach

If you’re still not done, he’ll offer to eat you out until you were

✰Yunho:

Let’s be honest, Yunho is lowkey a very dirty minded one

Like normally, he’s a soft ass who makes jokes that genuinely make you laugh sometimes

But he’s a completely different person when it comes to all things sexual 

And he’s down to try almost anything with you

But when you brought mutual masturbation on the table, he would giggle

Normally, he’d stop being goofy when it comes to said sexual things, especially when you’re going to be completely naked

But you two were masturbating by each other in bed, and he found that to be kind of funny a childish man™

But then he would hate the idea of not being able to touch you

So he really though this through before agreeing

Even though he knew it wasn't his cup of tea, he decided to do it once for you

He was still going to have fun with you regardless

Ok so probably halfway in, he somehow turns it into a competition bc boy’s competitive 

So he’ll watch your every move and tries to make himself last as long as you

"You’re going to cum before me, I just know it”

You two would end up competing to see who cums last

And he’ll hold it in until you couldn’t

You could see him struggle to hold himself in, but as soon you came, so did he

Cums all over the sheets same as if he were by himself

Laughs afterwards, telling you to never suggest that ever again unless you wanted to lose...again

✰Yeosang:

Tbh is so fucking awkward about it at first

Like he’ll mess up with even taking off his own clothes bc he has no clue on what to expect

Is quiet at the start

Is a bit timid because he’s jerking off while you’re there, something he usually just did by himself

Even though you’re also touching yourself, he still feels shy

But once he sees that you’re getting into it, you’ll see him grow 

His eyes would go back and forth between your face to your fingers

He’d lick his lips as he watched you rubbed your clit and finger yourself

He’ll move closer to you, groaning and enthralled, looking down at his own cock occasionally as he played with himself 

He finds that he actually likes it...well, for the most part

He’d like it even more if you let him at least kiss you

Yeosang’s very sensual when it comes to doing intimate things with you

So he would end up kissing you deeply as he continued to stroke himself

And his kisses would be so slow and comforting

So if you were nervous before, like him, you’ll both end up enjoying it more than when you started

It would be a pretty lengthy experience with him, and he prefers to take his time with it

Yeosang would make it into something more than just masturbating next to each other

And he’s very patient with you, so if you weren’t ready to cum at the same time he was, he wouldn’t mind holding it in 

Would love to cum on your stomach or anywhere on your body since you’re there, he finds it more intimate that way

✰San:

When you first ask San to try it, he’s super excited

Like this boy will love trying anything sexual with you

But then almost instantly regrets it

He just would not have the patience

Literally this boy could probs jerk off 2-3x a day easily 

You would think he would be into it for that reason alone 

But honestly he would rather not touch himself when you’re literally right there

And he’ll tell you that

“wHy CaN’t wE jUsT fUcK?” annoying ass

Like you being right in front of him while he touches himself is one thing

And you being naked is another thing

But you touching yourself while naked??? and in front of him??? 

And you’re telling him he can touch himself but can’t touch you????

That’s a big FUCK and NO in San’s book

Will most definitely try to touch you, so you’re going to have to swat his hand away multiple times

Does it on purpose and it’s obvious

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that for you?”

Honestly you’re going to have to deal with him one of two ways  

You could 1. promise to try something he’s been wanting to try with you

And just like that, he would switch up and comply with you

Like suddenly there would be enthusiasm

However, this lil shit would just hurry up and try his best to cum fast so he could get it over with so he could try that new something

Or 2. just give the boy the head/quickie he wants

Either way, San wins

✰Mingi:

First of all, Mingi would try anything with you, no matter how unsure he was about it

And boy was he unsure about this

But he’ll try his best bc he's whipped for you

Expect lots of questions though

“So I just touch myself?”

“Mhm.”

“Like this?”

“Mingi, have you not masturbated before”

You’re going to be the one guiding him since he’s never done it before in front of you or probably anyone 

Is so fucking nervous and might need a little help getting hard at first

“Just touch yourself like how you normally would”

“...Okay, I’ll try”

And so he’ll close his eyes and naturally start stroking himself as if he’s the only one there

Breathes loudly and bites his lip, and he’ll open his eyes to look at you every now and then 

His glancing will turn into staring and admiring you

Becomes so tempted to touch you

Especially when you’re sprawled out like that with your legs spread as you’re moaning and watching him back

It makes him so weak

“I really want to touch you right now, baby. This is so hard”

But doesn’t reach out to touch you or anything bc he wants to still give it his all for you

Asks if you were close, and waits so that you both could cum together

He really just wants to take in whatever he could from the experience

Releases himself quietly bc he likes hearing your moans

So much more when he hears you moan his name

Leaves a mess as he’s cumming, gets a little bit on you

Would only try it again if you two were going to touch each other, bc he would find it more enjoyable that way

✰Wooyoung:

Another impatient bitch

Literally whines the entire time

Doesn’t get the point of doing it because you’re right there

“Let’s just have sex instead”-Wooyoung one minute in

You probably won’t enjoy it for this reason in particular

Tries to get you to change your mind about trying it out

“Wouldn’t it be better if I finger you and you jerk me off? Wouldn’t that be more fun?”

“I feel like if I wanted to touch myself I would do it on my own, you know?”

When he sees you wouldn’t let him get his way, he stops pleading with you and gives you what you want

So he’ll pretend he’s getting into it

And you’ll never know he was just faking 

That's his way of finding a way out of it 

Bc this one was not about to cum from stroking himself when you’re with him

So you better believe he’ll stroke himself super slowly and just wait for you to cum first

And the second you do so, it gets him even hornier

So before you knew it, he’ll be on top of you 

“Well, looks like I failed at this. I have no choice but to fuck you”

You’ll probably never try this with him again bc this one practically sees it as a form of torture

✰Jongho:

Tbh when you bring it up with Jongho, he’ll be confused

Like it didn’t make sense for you to touch yourself in front of him when he was there, and vice versa

Goes in very skeptical, but he’ll still try it with you bc you wanted to

Doesn’t get hard right away because he’s extremely shy about it

Like even just normal intimacy with you made him hella shy already 

So jerking off in front of you is something he's not going to get used to any time soon

Thinks it’s something that should just stay in private

So he’ll have that mindset going though with it

But again, bc he loves you, he’ll do it with you

Even though he’d rather touch you and not himself at the moment

So he’d sigh and agree reluctantly

But when he sees you enjoying yourself, he starts growing and getting all hot and bothered

And he’ll have a change of heart when he hears you moaning his name

Is more fascinated with how you masturbate more than anything

“Is...this how you do it all the time? You moan my name?”

So he’ll end up watching you for the most part and doesn’t really tend to himself

So his hands just kind of sit on his hard member, rubbing slowly at the sight of you

Before he knew it, you’ll end up cumming before him

And then he’ll feel awkward bc you’re already finished and just watching him touch himself

You’re probably going to help him finish bc he was now sexually frustrated and unable to cum on his own

[let-it-raines]

Yellow Flowers In Your Hair (2/3)

Emma Nolan has been raised in a privileged household and has never wanted for anything other than freedom to live her life on her own terms. Her parents want that for her as well, at least to a certain extent, but when her father unexpectedly passes, Emma is left with two options: marry a man she doesn't love or lose the home filled with memories of her beloved father as well as memories of her first love, a man with blue eyes and a kind smile who left for the Navy years ago and hasn’t been home since.

But what if her first love were to come back?

Rating: Mature (mostly the next chapter)

a/n: For @shardminds​ as part of my fic giveaway contest! I’m so happy that you enjoyed the first part and hope you enjoy the second as well ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tag list: @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree@xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven  @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81​ @stahlop​ @spartanguard​

-/-

“Why, it is apparently your wedding day, my love.”

If it were possible for a heart to shatter and still pump blood through a body, that is exactly what Killian would be experiencing right now. For there is no way that he has died even if an angel is standing in front of him in a white gown that flows off of her arms and golden hair that creates a flowery halo around her head with the sun shining down on it.

Emma.

Emma with yellow flowers tucked into her hair.

(He used to pick her yellow weeds, and she’d tuck them behind her ear and into her plaits. He’d often find the broken petals of them in his own clothes after they’d spent a day together.)

Emma has never looked more beautiful than she does right now, and Killian is very much convinced that it is an impossibility for her to not look beautiful. In his twenty-six years of life, she is the most stunning woman he has ever laid his eyes upon as well as the most intelligent, witty, and kind even if she does have a propensity for teasing him in her harsh, yet weirdly affectionate ways.

She’s never been one to be proper, and he always loved the dirtiness of some of her quips even if they were not always entirely correct. Those might have been the most charming as he taught her the correct usage of certain terms and phrases over their time together.

He has not seen her in nearly seven years now, and while she was a girl when he left for the Navy and he only one day past becoming a man, she is very much a woman now. He believes she should be nearly twenty-four now. Her face has matured, the sharp lines filling into softer ones, and simply from their embrace, he can tell that the same has happened with her body. It’s odd to look at someone who he once knew better than himself and to see all of the differences there, and a part of him wonders if he would have noticed all of these changes had he been around to see them happen in person.

Of course he would have.

Of course, of course, of course.

But he wasn’t here to see the changes, to go through them with her, and in the depths of his soul he wonders just how much she’s had to grow in the past few months of grieving the death of her father.

His poor love. How he wishes that he could have held her through that moment and all of the moments that he has missed while he’s been away from her.

Even if he did not mourn the death of his own father, the drunk who never cared about he and Liam unless it was to help work around the Nolan estate so that they could earn money for him to gamble away, Killian knows how close of a bond Emma had with David. She looked at him like he created the skies above and believed that he could, and for him to no longer be around is a tragedy that words cannot encapsulate.

Now David does reside in the stars in the sky, and as little comfort as that likely brings, Killian wishes that it does provide some sense of help to the Nolan women who are the fiercest women he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.

If Killian could go back, if he could not enlist in the Royal Navy so that he could stay as a groundskeeper for the Nolan estate, he might. If it meant being able to spend more time with Emma and possibly to prevent David from getting in the carriage that caused his accident, Killian would do it. He would do it even if it meant that he never made anything of himself, if it meant that he was never able to raise his status from poor man to a Naval lieutenant with a good job lined up ahead of him.

Even if it meant that he could never marry Emma. He would save David every time.

For Emma.

The only reason he ever joined the Navy was to prove to Emma’s parents that he could be worthy of her hand in marriage, and yet it seems that it was all for naught.

She has fallen for another man, one who was likely around to court her and make her blush with happiness, and how could he ever fault her for finding that little bit of happiness when that is all he has wished for her over these years where he has waited for her and waited for his chance to come home?

If Emma is happy, he will be happy for her. It is the very least he can do despite the shattering of his heart that he swears he can feel within every inch of him.

His body and soul have been captivated by her, and that shall never change.

Bloody hell. He’s a damn liar, but he has to keep telling himself these things to remain sane.

“W-what?” Emma stutters out, that adorable little smile that she used to smile whenever he would tell her a dirty joke that was anything but proper.

(His tended to be more accurate than she was, but they both learned along the way in the tall grass out by the lake. Her skin glistened in the sunlight, and her laugh was as beautiful as the songs of the birds.)

“Your dress,” he continues, swallowing his emotions as his hands gesture to the pure white of her gown and the veil mixed into her hair with orange and yellow flowers. “You are getting married today, aren’t you? Or is this dress simply your casual attire now?”

Emma’s painted lips form a perfectly shaped “O” and if he didn’t feel close to death, he would find it adorable.

This may very well be the hardest day or his life even when his story used to be chapter after chapter of hardships sloppily penned on tattered pages that would eventually burn down to ashes.

“I am.”

Her voice sounds somber, but Killian convinces himself that it is all in his imagination. It must be. Why would she not be happy to be married? The Nolans set such a good example of love for Emma, for him too, and he imagines the man waiting for Emma in his nicest morning suit is likely the love of her life who treats her well – like an equal partner in their decisions and affections – and makes her smile more than anything else. He doesn’t see Emma getting married any other way as she’s never been one for status even if her parents were.

Love. Emma would only ever marry for love. Mary Margaret would want it to be a man of a particular station, but love would be involved.

God, Killian loves her still.

“Best wishes then,” Killian sighs, taking a step back from her so that he can attempt to breathe, but all that does is give him a fuller view of Emma in her dress. In his nights alone imagining himself back home in England, he’d often imagine his life with Emma. Her wearing a white dress, one likely simpler than this, was a common dream, and the reality is no less breathtaking. She is breathtaking. “You are stunning, Ms. Nolan.”

Emma’s lips press together, her brows furrowing with her forehead pinching to cause that little line in the middle of her face that he always enjoyed even if it meant that she was frustrated.

Why would she be frustrated?

It must be his imagination again.

(He used to love frustrating her.)

(“You frustrate the hell out of me, Killian Jones,” she’d say, shoving his shoulder.)

(“Well, there are ways we could work out those frustrations,” he’d tease back before gently cupping her cheeks and kissing her.)

“I – ” she starts.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret calls, stepping out of the carriage to walk toward the two of them in a pretty green dress. She looks so much like Emma but with all of the wrong coloring, and he swears that she hasn’t aged a day. “Have you gotten enough air? We really have to be – oh,” she sighs, stopping when she sees him, mouth agape. “Killian Jones, is that you?”

“Aye, ma’am,” he smiles, stepping up to her with a genuine smile on his face before taking her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles. “It’s nice to see you. My regrets for Mr. Nolan. He was a good man.”

“He was the best  man,” Mary Margaret corrects, a bit of a wry smile on her face. Emma has always thought that her mother was too demure, but underneath the perfectly proper façade is a bit of a rebel. He can tell even if she has obviously worked hard to bury it underneath her dresses and jewels. Those who were raised outside of society never quite fit in the way they want to, no matter how much they try. “How are you doing? How is your brother?”

“Liam’s just been married,” he sighs. “I wasn’t able to take leave for the ceremony. Were the two of you not invited? I’ll have to get onto him about that. I’m sure he’d have loved for you to be there.”

Mary Margaret laughs, her green eyes squinting in a way that is an exact replica of Emma when she laughs a genuine laugh, and it makes his heart ache for her even if she is standing right behind him.

How is he missing her more now when he was once an ocean away from her?

There were nights in his bunk on the ship where the ache of missing her was so great that his heart convulsed, that he wondered if he’d ever be able to recover. There were days in his stations, in his travels across the globe where he’d see a flash of long blonde hair and think it was her. He’d wish and hope and pray. And on the rare nights where he had a room to himself, when his mates had wandered to find the company of another woman, he’d take himself in hand and imagine it were her, imagine that the soft sighs came from her lips. They weren’t his proudest moments, but they happened all the same.

(He could punch Emma’s betrothed, whoever he is, for loving her, but Killian knows that isn’t right.)

“It’s perfectly okay. I’m afraid we didn’t send he and his new bride an invitation to Emma’s wedding, which we really must be leaving for now. Emma, dear, we cannot leave the Cassidy’s waiting.”

The name Cassidy sets his blood aflame as he pieces together who Emma’s groom is, but this is not Killian’s place. It has never been his place, and it most definitely is not now. He must not voice his distaste for the senior Mr. Cassidy nor the junior, for the way that they are known to treat their tenants and those under their employ as well as the junior Mr. Cassidy’s penchant for brothels, so he bites his tongue until the taste of iron fills his mouth.

Emma is no longer his. That’s something he must accept.

His throat constricts, and Killian tries to swallow all of it down while his vision blurs.  

“Well, I’m afraid I must let you go then.”

“Why don’t you join us?” Mrs. Nolan offers, her eyes glancing past his shoulder when she presumably hears Emma’s intake of breath.

“Mummy,” Emma scolds, and his heart drops a little further in his chest at her tone. “I don’t think Killian wants to come with us. He likely has other things to do to bide his time.”

He doesn’t. All he planned on doing today was to pay his respects for the late Mr. Nolan and to see if Emma would be willing to have a cup of tea with him so that they may get to know each other again. All he planned to do today was tell her how very much he stills loves her, but now he knows that he will never be able to utter those words again.

Never one for conventions, even he knows that it would not be the gentlemanly thing to do to express his love for a taken woman.

This is what Killian must accept.

And yet he very obviously despises himself for what he does next.

“I could never deny your invitation, Lady Nolan. I would love to accompany the two of you to the church.”

“Perfect,” Mary Margaret sighs, motioning back to the carriage. “I’m afraid we must go now. We’re running late.”

Killian nods his head, forces a smile onto his face, and then quickly walks toward the carriage door to hold it open and help the women inside. When Emma’s hand touches his, he feels a spark that burns him instead of exciting him, and the drumline playing in his chest increases in sound until she’s settled down on a cushioned seat and he across from her. She won’t look at him. He’s sitting directly across from him, and she won’t look at him. Her eyes evade his, her gaze consistently trained to the empty seat beside him, and if it wasn’t for her mum sitting next to her, Killian would lose his control and ask what exactly is happening.

How is it that the day that he has returned to Emma that she is leaving him?

If he had come the day before, if he had not spent his day with Liam and Elsa celebrating them and their new marriage, would he have been able to stop this wedding?

No, he can’t. Those are thoughts he can’t have even if his mind is full of them.

Fuck.

While he hoped that the church was further away, that he would have more time to accept this – not that he ever could – the church is near enough for them to arrive in under fifteen minutes. They are both the quickest and longest fifteen minutes of Killian’s life.

When the horses halt, the carriage juts forward, causing Emma to lose her stable seating and fall forward into him, her hands pressing against his thighs. All sounds seem to stop then, all sensations focusing on her touch, and when he glances away from her dainty fingers, all he can see is the watery green of her eyes under her black painted lashes.

Has she been crying?

“I-I apologize,” Emma stutters out, her voice a shell of herself, before snatching her hands away and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her gown. “I seem to have lost my seating.”

“No need to apologize, love.”

She’s no longer looking at him, their brief eye contact disappearing, and Killian takes it as an unspoken demand for him to get out of the carriage. He listens, moving to open the door, and steps outside and down the steps, waiting there to help the women down. No more words are spoken, and he wonders if he’ll ever speak to Emma again. He thought that for years, but with her right in front of him, he thought…he thought he had a chance.

She’s moved on, Killian reminds himself. This is not about you, you bastard.

There are unfamiliar ladies waiting on the Nolans that he suspects are from the Cassidy household, and Emma and Mary Margaret are shuffled off with them inside of a side door to the church while he’s left standing there watching the imprints of Emma’s shoes in the ground and wondering if her feet are still so sensitive to touch that she laughs whenever fingers run across them.

The light that shone brightly enough to bring him back home is getting married, and he’s about to witness it.

No.

He cannot. He damn well cannot.

As much as he says that he’s always wanted Emma’s happiness, as much as he does actually want Emma’s happiness, Killian’s not sure that his heart can take this. It is one thing to know that she is marrying Neal Cassidy, and it is another to witness it. He cannot possibly witness this. Every time he closes his eyes, his mind is already going to remember the way that she looks in her wedding dress, and that is enough of a painful memory for him. He does not need to watch her join her life to someone else who isn’t him.

Would she honestly even realize that he’s not in the church?

Selfishness is running through him, but he’d be a damn fool to wait around and watch this when he’s been a damn fool to wait around this entire time.

Swallowing all of his emotions, the ones that he cannot show, Killian turns on his heel and starts walking away from the church only to see Ruby Lucas walk in front of him. She looks just the same as well, if not a bit more wild with painted streaks of red in her raven hair, and the grin that’s painted on her face when she sees him makes his heart ache the slightest bit less. She was always willing to turn a blind eye, to look away from he and Emma spending time together in the kitchen, and Killian considered her a close friend.

Emma did too.

It’s nice that she’ll be here for the wedding.

“As I live and breathe,” Ruby huffs out, placing her hands on her hips while looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, “it’s Killian Jones.”

“Ms. Lucas.”

“Absolutely not,” she scoffs before pressing forward to wrap him in a brief hug. “You know how much I despise being called that.”

“That’s exactly why it’s what I called you, lass.”

“You’re still a tease. What on earth are you doing here?”

The momentary distraction of seeing Ruby dissipates, and he’s reaching up to scratch behind his ear, wondering how the hell he’s still alive to survive this when he could lose his lunch any minute now.

“Ah, well,” Killian starts, “I was on my way to the Nolan estate to give my condolences for Mr. Nolan’s passing, as well as to – ”

He stops his speech, not sure how much to tell, but the way that Ruby’s eyes stare up at him full of pity lets him know that he doesn’t need to. She knows. Of course she does. But he doesn’t want pity. He has been looked at with pity all of his life, and now, even if he’d pity someone in the same situation as him, Killian doesn’t want it.  

“I’m sorry, Ruby,” he chokes out, stepping away from her and down the path that will lead him back into the main part of town. “I’m afraid I must take my leave.”

Not bothering to look behind him, Killian officially starts walking away, knowing that it’s the most difficult walk he’s ever had to take. The first was leaving Emma seven years ago with tears staining her cheeks and a tremble in her lips. He’ll always remember how she looked that day just as he will remember how she looked today.

“If” does not exist in life, what happens being inked in the pages of everyone’s stories, but Killian will always wonder “what if?”

What if it was him waiting inside of that church for Emma instead?

What if he had never had to leave to raise his status so that he could marry her?

What if he had been born into a more noble family, one with money and land and everything that Emma deserves?

What if she still loved him the way that he loves her?

“She doesn’t love him, you know.”

Pebbles move beneath his feet when Killian’s steps come to a halt, his toes nearly causing him to fall forward and down to the ground while his heart beats wildly in his chest like there is a pack of horses running inside instead of an organ vital for life.

She doesn’t love who? She doesn’t love Neal?

He dare not hope. No, he cannot.

“What?” Killian questions, swallowing his breath and his pride but never turning to look at Ruby as she speaks.

“Emma doesn’t love Mr. Cassidy, Killian. She’s not marrying him for love.”

No.

Never.

Emma would never marry someone if it wasn’t for love. The Nolans may be a family of status who are concerned with etiquette and keeping up appearances, but they would never allow Emma to marry someone who she didn’t love or who wouldn’t treat her as the true force of nature that she is. They simply wouldn’t.

Mary Margaret wouldn’t, especially after losing the love of her life at such a premature age.

No.

Killian’s fingers curl into his palm, nails leaving crescent moon marks in his skin, and it takes the strength of every muscle in his body to turn around to look at Ruby so that he can see her as she speaks. His uniform feels constricting at the moment, like it is going to suffocate him, but maybe just maybe he’s about to start being able to breathe again.

Hope rises quickly and yet he knows that it can be squashed just the same.

“She doesn’t love him, Killian,” Ruby repeats, stepping closer to him so that the people around them cannot hear. “She hasn’t loved anyone in all of the time that you’ve been gone. Her parents tried. Suitor after suitor would come to the house, but after they left, Emma would always compare them to you. I don’t think she even realized that she did it, but she did.”

The scowl that’s been plastered on his lips twitches a bit, a smile trying to break through, but Emma is still inside about to get married to a man that she does not love. There is nothing about that which makes him smile.

“Then why is she marrying that bastard?”

“Because society is corrupt and does not allow women to keep what is theirs.”

Killian arches a brow, confusion coursing through him. “Pardon?”

“Without Mr. Nolan,” Ruby explains, fidgeting with the sleeves on her dress, “Emma and Mary Margaret aren’t allowed to keep the estate because they are women. Mary Margaret was going to marry someone else, some man she didn’t know but who was willing to take a widowed woman, and Emma refused, saying that she had just lost her husband and that no one could ever replace him. That’s why she’s marrying Neal. It’s to save the house and all of the memories that reside there. It’s not for love.”

Every word Ruby speaks is a brick pressing down on his shoulders before they are lifted as his mind takes it all in. How did he not even consider this? In the back of his mind, Killian recalls hearing that abominable law and seeing it happen to others before, but it did not once cross his mind when he heard of David’s accident and passing.

Everything about this day is a tragedy even if Emma is trying to be the savior of her family.

Saviors deserve happiness too.

“It’s a business transaction then?” Killian questions before brushing his hair off of his forehead, a small laugh escaping his lips. “It’s not for love?”

“Not at all.”

“And, um,” he stutters as excitement inches over his body and his toes start to bounce off of the ground, ready to run into the church, “this law that prevents Emma from keeping the house and their livelihood…she can marry any man, correct? It doesn’t have to be one of a particularly high nobility?”

“I think so, but why does it – ” Ruby stops her words, an effervescent grin breaking out onto her face, and she reaches forward to tug on his hand. “Come on, let’s go inside and stop this wedding.”

The two of them run inside like they are mad. Maybe they are. Ruby leads him through the back doorway to where Emma is apparently waiting while the rest of the guests arrive. His heart is beating so quickly that he cannot feel it anymore, the ringing sound in his head blocking everything out, and when Ruby opens a wooden door in the back of the church to show Emma sitting alone in a room, he nearly falls to the ground.

“Killian,” she gasps, wiping away at her eyes from where tears have obviously been falling, “what are you doing back here?”

He takes seven steps forward until he is right in front of her, the boots of his uniform nearly brushing against her dress before he kneels to the ground and places his hands on hers, holding her how he’s wished to for so long.

“Marry me, Emma.”

[queen-of-bel]

i think someone already asked for paz and kaz?? if not then them, in case someone asked for them, kandori and maki for the hc meme!

MY TWO FAVE DUOS EVER. i’ll do them all bc i could fill out a hundred prompts about them

Persona 1, Persona 2EP, general Metal Gear spoilers incoming

Putting under a read more because it is loooong (sorry in advance)

Kandori

realistic: Oh, Kandori was absolutely the one who alerted Nanjo to his existence in p2ep. I’ve written multiple posts on Kandori’s motivations, but bottom line, Kandori wanted to work against Nyarlathotep’s plans as much as he believed his fate would allow him to. Kandori had infinite strength and should have been the impenetrable stronghold that kept Tatsuzou safe. He is the only boss in the entire game to not have a low health stance, and he resists everything. He’s able to catch Tatsuya’s sword with one hand, as Tatsuya says:

“Kandori tilts his face out of the way, and when my blade grazes his ear, he grabs it with his left hand. All I have to do is pull back, and it’ll cost him his fingers. He gives me a broad, natural smile. However, even when I yank it with all my strength, my sword doesn’t move a centimeter. It’s like it’s caught in a vise.”

Kandori’s revival should not have been found out by anyone (especially since everyone watched him die the first time). But somehow, the word leaked back to Nanjo. It’s not impossible to think that it was Togashi who leaked the information, but there’s a line of Kandori’s that really makes me think Kandori himself was the source.

Once Maya et. al + Tatsuya arrive on the Nichinmaru, Kandori says that “all the players are in place”, implying that he’s the one who brought them all together like this. This was a very meticulously crafted plan, and it only could’ve worked if Nanjo heard of Kandori’s revival, which leads me to believe that it was Kandori, not Togashi, who spread the rumors of his own revival.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Due to the high levels of contempt he feels for Tatsuzou, I’d love to think that Kandori just fucks with Tatsuzou constantly. He’ll move all the furniture in Tatsuzou’s office just a few inches to the left, or he’ll swap the position of some of the books on his shelf. It’s infuriating to Tatsuzou bc Kandori’s antics are just enough that he knows something is off, but he can never pinpoint exactly what it is. Kandori, meanwhile, insists that nothing is wrong, and convinces Tatsuzou that it’s just his old age getting to him.

heart-crushing and awful: I bet Kandori kept tabs on the P1 crew during his time under Tatsuzou. While he’s said to have an obsession with Tatsuya, there’s no reason to believe that the care he showed for Maki in P1 went away, and he’s grateful to the P1 cast for saving her. I like to think that Kandori found out that Reiji’s going to have a child, and stashed away a large amount of money (bonus points if he embezzled from Tatsuzou) to send to him, especially since Reiji’s girlfriend’s house collapsed. Kandori doesn’t sign his name on it or anything, so the money arrives to Reiji in an unmarked envelope, with only Reiji’s name written on it.

Reiji first thinks that it might have been Nanjo who sent the money (because that envelope is packed, and Nanjo is the only person he knows rich enough to send that much). Nanjo denies this, and after a while, the two of them come to the conclusion that the only other possible person could have been Kandori. Reiji thankfully accepts the money, and this whole incident reinforces in his mind that “Takashi” was the right name to choose for his son.

unrealistic: In order to cope with the boredom and emptiness he felt as SEBEC’s Mikage-Cho branch president, Kandori set up a secret room in SEBEC filled with video game consoles. During the height of his depression, Kandori would just be so engrossed in his games that he would forget he has actual meetings to go to. Cue Takeda apologizing profusely to clients, saying that Kandori’s running a bit late, and Takeda has to practically drag Kandori by the collar out of the little gamer den that he’s created for himself.

Maki

realistic: After her training under Eriko, she realizes that she misses painting and wants to pick it up again. She eventually incorporates that into her profession, becoming an art therapist.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Maki really wants to be good at baking, but she’s terrible at it. You know, like this:

She knows that she’s created a monstrosity but at least it’s still edible, right? So she brings these to P1 cast reunions. Nanjo is just appalled, and has to excuse himself because he knows he’s just going to be too blunt (prompting Mark to call him a “dickweed” again). Yuka, having no filter, just straight up says how horrible they look, but then she offers to teach Maki how to bake, since she’s pretty damn good at it herself.

heart-crushing and awful: Maki definitely regrets not accompanying Maya to the Nichinmaru. She doesn’t blame Nanjo/Eriko for not being able to save Kandori, but ever since she heard that Kandori was alive again, she’s wanted nothing more than to talk to him again.

She thinks that if she were there at the undersea ruins, maybe she could have convinced him to come along with her. This regret is just going to add to the massive amounts of guilt she feels over the Mikage-Cho incident.

unrealistic: It took ideal Maki a while to perfect her “cringe” negotiation. When she first tried it, she would burst out laughing too much, absolutely ruining it, and angering a lot of demons along the way.

Paz

realistic: Kaz has constantly asked her to come feed treats to Nuke with him. She’s always agreed, because that’s the role she’s supposed to play, but she really hates it at first. Eventually, as she comes to like Kaz more, it becomes the highlight of her day, and she begins to really look forward to it. She finds herself prolonging Nuke’s feeding sessions, just so she can spend more time with Nuke and Kaz.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: So you know how Paz couldn’t stand Kaz at first? She wasn’t exactly subtle about it, so everyone at MSF knew that Paz thought Kaz was an enormous idiot. Cecile was so happy to find someone else who felt that way about Kaz (and she’s always wanted a reason to get closer to Paz), so she goes to Paz to air her grievances about what a pest Monsieur Miller is being. Paz, meanwhile, does not give a single shit. She still thinks Cecile is just a ditz, and now she’s irritated that she has to deal with both Kaz and Cecile’s annoying antics.

heart-crushing and awful: I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really have. But there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can be any more awful than what we got in canon. I have a lot of characters that fall under the “deserved better” category, but Paz takes the top of that list.

Paz is a unique character in Metal Gear in that she was not supposed to have anything to do with war. Other characters’ lives in the series were intertwined with war, whether by choice or by fate. Even characters like Chico or Sunny were born into it, given their parents and upbringing. 

It’s never clear how Zero was able to come in contact with Paz, but I think it was intentional to never specify it. It’s not important to know how Zero found Paz, because fundamentally, Paz is not an important person. She’s nobody special. She was literally just some random orphan living in the US, and Zero went out of his way to drag her into his plans.

To me, Paz’s character parallels the child soldiers in Zanzibar Land. They’re both representative of how ruthless Zero and Big Boss were in their quests to fulfill their interpretations of the Boss’ will. Zero and Big Boss were both willing to employ any tactic possible to reach this end goal, and they didn’t care about the pain and destruction they left in their path.

But I digress...

That being said, I think Paz felt sick when she saw MSF soldiers playing with the mini remote-controlled ZEKE that Huey had built. For her, it was just a reminder of the duty that she had to carry out. She wasn’t allowed to be happy at MSF, and she eventually would have to fight to the death with Snake.

unrealistic: Writing Love Deterrence with Kaz and Zadornov made her want to learn how to play the guitar. In my totally self-indulgent “Zero and Skull Face both get brain aneurysms and drop dead 4 days before Peace Day” AU, Paz approaches Kaz and asks him to give her guitar lessons.

Kaz

realistic: The morning after the monthly birthday party at MSF (you know, where Kaz invited everyone to see the real Kazuhira Miller?), he’s embarrassed as hell. He been so protective of Paz the entire night, and it turned out he was the crudest person at the party. He goes to apologize to Paz, and can barely look her in the eyes as he’s doing so. Paz, meanwhile, can’t stop laughing. Her opinion of Kaz had been softening ever since he visited her when she was sick, but interacting with him during the party had really made her like him. Kaz still feels a bit of shame, but upon seeing Paz genuinely laugh for the first time, he can’t help but feel so publicly embarrassing himself was all worth it.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: MORE 90S FOXHOUND PETTINESS

The first year that both Big Boss and Kaz are at FOXHOUND, Kaz bakes a cake for BB’s birthday. As BB accepts the cake, he wonders if Kaz has forgiven him, but then he looks down at it and sees

And these are the cheapest, shittiest cigarettes that Kaz could make, because you know his petty ass rolled them himself. BB picks up a cigarette and it’s so sloppily rolled that it immediately falls apart and the tobacco spills all over the cake and the floor and BB looks up to Kaz and Kaz is just smiling back like

heart-crushing and awful: Ohoho, I have many thoughts as to Master Miller’s life post-Zanzibar Land and his final moments. Now that Big Boss is finally dead, Kaz’s life loses all meaning. Skull Face, Huey, Big Boss, they’re all dead, and suddenly, the decades of anger he carried with him has nowhere to channel itself to. I think he becomes an empty shell of a man, just sort of running on autopilot.

So when Ocelot breaks into Kaz’s house to kill him, you absolutely know that Ocelot wasn’t discrete about it. There’s no way that Ocelot’s overdramatic cowboy ass didn’t gloat about it, to show that he was able to get the upper hand in the end.

Kaz just doesn’t care.

Kaz’s life is plagued with regrets. While none of it was intentional, his impulsivity and short-sightedness has really screwed over a lot of people and absolutely destroyed so many people’s lives. I think when Ocelot came to kill Kaz (and I’m going to toss in a bit of torture, just because Ocelot’s petty ass remembers Kaz complaining about Ocelot’s getting “too many kicks from his ‘art of interrogation’”), Kaz just resigned and doesn’t even attempt to fight back. He knows that this is a sad and undignified way to die, but he believes that this is karma and he deserves it.

unrealistic: Okay I’ve talked about this a little, but I want to add to it.

Kaz absolutely kept a Burn Book like in Mean Girls.

After MGSV, Big Boss and Ocelot make their way in the book as well. Underneath Ocelot’s picture, Kaz writes “Too gay to function. Also, cowboys are stupid.” BB has got 5 whole pages dedicated to him, but the line that Kaz is most proud of is “Didn't shower for a month... during SUMMER, and to this day still hasn't washed his hair.”

Thank you for asking!

send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons

[littlemisssquiggles]

I love your blog, and i love how you go in depth with your content. Can i ask: Why do you love RoseGarden so much? What made you start shipping Ruby and Oscar so hard (From a fellow Rosegarden shipper to another)?

Hiya Sparrow. Thank you bunches for enjoying my RWBY content, fam. Means a lot. Why do I love Rosegarden so much? Whelp, to ask myself why I’m a bonafide Rosegardener is like asking me why I’m proud Pinehead whose favourite RWBY character is the precious freckled farm boy turned little barn prince XD

I guess I can start off my answer by explaining how I started shipping Rosegarden in the first place.

Unlike other gardeners who were shipping our two smaller, more honest souls from as early as Oscar’s introduction back in RWBYV4, this squiggle meister didn’t until Oscar met Ruby in V5. I didn’t even know about Rosegarden until that season. The way how Oscar looked at Ruby from the moment he first laid eyes on her—his expression of sheer awe of her; his little ‘whoa’ as he stepped forward and said the infamous ‘You have silver eyes’ line— that was the hook that got me intrigued by this ship. That’s how the CRWBY got me. 

Up until that point in the series, I always felt as if Ruby was omitted having any potential romantic relationships between herself and other characters. I’d like to think that part of the rationale for that was due to our little red rose being the youngest of the main cast and at Beacon as well. While we’ve seen the other RWBY girls catch the attention of probable suitors—y’know for Weiss, it was Jaune, Neptune and to some extent Henry Marigold. With Blake, it was her previous messy relationship with Adam followed up by Sun and later Ilia. Not to mention her and Yang being paired together.

There hasn’t been anyone shown to look at Ruby in such an alluring way. No prospective gentlemen or lady callers ever came a knocking at Ruby’s door. At least not until Oscar entered the picture.

From my perspective, Oscar is the first character I’ve seen give Ruby that look—the look that clearly tells the audience that “Yup, this character definitely has a crush on our little red rose and will probably fall head over heels in love with her at some point down the line when the timing is appropriate”.

That’s what made me like Rosegarden. I like Oscar a lot as character and seeing him take an interest in Ruby was a refreshing sight for me, not to mention adorable. Oscar’s little mini-stroke after Ruby first smiled and giggled at him in V5 will always bring a smile to my face whenever I see it. It’s such a cute wholesome moment. So yeah, like I said, that’s what made me first intrigued by the Rosegarden pair. However I didn’t completely fall in love with the ship until I observed all the interactions between these two kids that followed afterwards.

Watching Ruby look out for Oscar during the events of V5 made me appreciate her a lot more as a character. From Ruby’s time with Oscar, it’s hard to believe that this was the same introverted young girl who once told her big sister Yang that she didn’t really need to make friends. 

Ruby has come such a long way since her Beacon Days so it was really nice watching her doing everything she could to chum up to Oscar and ensure that he was comfortable being with the group. I’d like to believe that part of the reason Ruby took an interest in Oscar is because she saw a lot of herself in him; y’know what I’m saying? Ruby more than anyone within the hero team understands what Oscar is currently going through—being the youngest member amongst at team of people working together to protect humanity and save the world from the forces of evil. On top of that, Ruby knows what it’s like having to work harder to prove yourself as a worthy asset to the team rather than a liability.

Ruby relates to Oscar so much since she’s been in his shoes before. Heck she’s still in those shoes. That’s another reason why I like these two. They have quite a few things in common. Not only are Ruby and Oscar the babies of the hero team  but they both share in the burden of responsibility that’s been thrusted into their laps. 

Both share the badge of leadership—Oscar for being the successor to Ozpin who was originally the voice of wisdom and Ruby as the unquantifiable spark that keeps everyone moving forward, even when she might not have all the answers or know better when it comes to her own actions.

But beyond even this, Ruby and Oscar are the only two people within their team who share in the God of Light’s power. As a descendant of Ozma, Oscar has inherited his magic—the Gods’ gift to humanity—and has the potential to unlock it and make use of it when the PLOT decides he’s ready to become a Wizard of Light. 

Not to mention that the God of Lights’ power has been what has kept the Ozma Reincarnation Cycle going for so many centuries and that power is what courses through Oscar’s veins. Same for Ruby. Ruby is a Silver Eyed Warrior and while the true origins of these warriors are still an enigma, what we do know is that the Silver Eyes originated from the God of Light just like the Ozma Cycle. 

Rosegarden is a bond that has the potential to be a really strong friendship built on trust just as much as it has the golden chance to become a romance and loving relationship that feels like it was a match made by Gods themselves. A part of me would like to believe that romance will be in the cards for Ruby and Oscar. There are one or two noteworthy signs that hints that this is a strongpossibility to me.

First there is the connection to the Little Prince. You’ve probably noticed meaddress Oscar as the little barn prince a lot. That’s because many Pineheads believe that part of Oscar’s character and story os being influenced by that fairy-tale. And in the Little Prince story, his one true love was a single red rose that the prince met firstly on his planet. 

Part of the Prince’s journey was him learning to realize that he is responsible for his rose because according to the lesson that the Prince learnt from the Fox,it doesn’t matter if the Prince discovered many other beautiful roses or flowers in his travels, the Rose back on his home world was his one true rose and the one that was most unique to him in all the universe.

It is for this reason why most of us gardeners are banking on Oscar ultimately falling in love with Ruby.She will be his one true rose. The girl Oscar loves and sees himself as responsible for by providing her his support.

Despite only knowing each other shortly, Ruby and Oscar have been shown to care about each other a lot these past few seasons as evidenced by the way they support one another.

Then there is the connection to Lost Fable. A couple of RWBY theorists; myself included, are under the impression that Oscar and Ruby will parallel Ozma and Salem since the two share elements to their character that reflect the Fairy-tale pair. If you would to read my more in depth thoughts on that, check out this musing post of mine. Rosegarden do share elements to them in common with Fairy-tale. The only difference is the prospect of Rosegarden having a happier ending than Fairy-tale. 

 And yeah, that’s pretty much why I love Rosegarden. I know Ruby and Oscar have other ships but for me, their pair is the most interesting one. These two complement each other a lot and although the series hasn’t shown them talking one on one since V5, each time these two do interact it feels so genuine and…right.Overall I’m excited to see what becomes of this pair’s relationship over the course of the show. 

Some folks believe that Rosegarden may be a slow burn ship and I’d like agree with them. If romance is indeed in the cards for these two then the last thing I’d want is for the PLOT to rush it (or introduce it sloppily as I’ve noticed it do with certain other ships). I do, however, still have a feeling that this volume may light the match to Ruby and Oscar ultimately falling for one another by having them learn to trust each other first. 

Afterall, love and trusting in love seems to be the theme for V7. And in regards to our budding rosebuds, learning to trust in each other completely will open the door to them learning to love each other. First as friends and then as something so much more. 

 ~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

Chapter 3, also today, as promised!

M/M Romance, Arranged Marriage  - Also available on AO3

Chapter 3: A Toast

"You are too kind to invite us all to such an intimate affair!" Lady Evelyn and Lady Burnett had arrived together, and the latter addressed me as soon as she waltzed into the parlour. "I had assumed you Mallory’s were all about cozying up to the nouveau riche." Burnett giggled delicately and glanced around the parlour, hoping her barb had hit the right audience. But Henry was not here yet. Nor, by my own plans, would he arrive for another half an hour.

"I prefer to think there is space for new friends and old. We shouldn't remain locked into ancient customs of fraternity. Ultimately we are the ones injured by such snobbery." I intoned.

The parlour door opened again to allow Miss Havisham through. She looked about uncertainly, noticing there were no other untitled in the room. She had no airs about her; out of the three ladies, she was the least scheming, though she was sharp. Of all three, I was cheering for her to get the golden egg.

"You ladies make yourselves comfortable whilst we wait on my betrothed." I murmured, reaching for the brandy and coated the bottom of a glass. The ladies tittered and I let the glass fill to the brim. I will need this.

"I must say, I was devastated to hear of your engagement to our circle’s most eligible bachelor." Murmured Lady Evelyn. "Really it was a blow." She sniffed

"He's only one of the most eligible, Lady Evelyn." Miss Havisham corrected. "There are quite a few who could match him for wealth."

"Ah, but influence! And ships!" Lady Burnett sniffed at her. "And surely even you would agree that he is by far the most charming and handsome."

In surprise, I looked down at my near-empty glass and reached for the decanter. Just one more... "I do apologize for having nabbed such a prize from under your noses, my ladies. But, I confess, it does give me great satisfaction to know that I will have such a man by my side in this life. I can only pray you too will be blessed with the same. But," I sighed, pouring myself a fresh drink. "There is really no one like him..." I trailed off, contemplating my glass.

"It is a wonder you got him at all, considering your family's most recent... history ." Lady Burnett put just enough emphasis on “history” to remind the room at large that I was little more than a living and breathing repayment of debt.

I swallowed half of my second drink-- the last one for now-- and played along. "I am amazed and blessed every day I remember! It appears I was so fortunate to be blessed with the one thing I least deserved in this life." And least wanted. I glanced across the room at Miss Havisham. Her eyes were slightly narrowed. Oh, I’m sorry, should I not have waved that under your nose quite so much?

"But, like anyone who has gotten something they least deserve, I worry every day that he will somehow be stolen away from me! Of course, then I remind myself that it's nigh impossible for such a thing to happen.” I finished confidently.

" Nigh impossible?" Questioned Lady Evelyn. "Pray tell, is there a way to lose such a fine man?" She could not control the excitement in her voice and I pretended not to hear it.

"There is one way. But I would never tell you ladies. I I did, then by tomorrow, the entire city would know!" Oh yes, because these ladies gossiping about such a valuable secret was definitely my chief concern.

"Oh, but we swear we wouldn't tell a soul!" Lady Burnett leaned forward in her seat. "And we can help you keep your man once we know how."

I smiled. "Oh alright. It's just... well, he is mine. But…” Pause for drama, “If he decides he wishes to sire a child and is with a woman in, well... in the way of the world " I suddenly found myself picturing Henry in the throes of passion and blushed, burying my face in the last of my brandy. "Well, then. my parents would be forced to break off the engagement to protect my honor. It's in the contract."

The two ladies gasped. Miss Havisham looked at me sideways.

"Oh, but that's terrible!" Lady Evelyn gasped. "We will do our best to ensure that such a thing would never happen!"

"What terrible thing should ever happen?" The door opened and Henry himself walked in. All the ladies' eyes followed his entrance and for a few moments I ceased to exist. I could understand why. He was dressed impeccably, in a snowy white shirt that emphasized his upper physique, and matching trousers and coat of the softest looking dove grey. A deep blue cravat brought his eyes to the forefront. Lord knew I hated the man, but for a moment he took even my breath away.

Lady Evelyn recovered after an admirable thirty seconds. "Oh, Mr. Shawdun, nothing whatsoever. Won't you have a drink? Lord Mallory was just telling me he had a long aged whiskey hidden in the room, and while I would surely get tipsy after a sniff, I'm sure you could drink it with nary a blink!" No sooner had she seen him than she was scheming to get him. I mentally congratulated myself on my choice of invitations.

He looked at her with a polite smile. "By all means, I am intrigued enough to try it." He turned to me and his smile softened. "Would you do me the honor of pouring me a glass of the drink that the lady describes, Philip?" He said my name with a smile and I felt a jolt of guilt in my gut.

"It would be my honor, Mr. Mallory." I murmured, reaching into the cabinet behind me for a truly dusty bottle of aged liquor that I had seen my father eyeing in the past.  Truly I didn't even know what it was, just that it was surely strong enough to knock out even the strongest of men, according to Father. I uncorked it, and the scent made my eyes water. Reaching for a glass, I splashed a generous amount inside. "Enjoy." I handed it to Henry with a smile.

He smiled back at me expectantly. "But where's your glass?"

I looked at him, nonplussed. "I already had a glass of younger whiskey before you arrived."

He grinned and reached for my glass, giving it a quick sniff and then grinning. "This is little more than ale. I would toast with you as equals, Philip. Unless you believe yourself the lesser man?" His eyebrows raised, and the women behind him tittered.

When I had planned to leave the room begging a headache from overdrinking, I did not imagine it would be because I was well and truly drunk. But it will have to do. My acting skills are rubbish anyway. I reached for a fresh glass and poured another generous portion, sitting in front of myself. "There we are, now we can make a toast. As equals. " I couldn't help but grit my teeth at the last part. In the current situation, I was little more than Henry's concubine and we both knew it.

He smiled at me, eyes softening further as he lifted his glass. "To your health and happiness, my Philip." He held my eyes, and for once I could smile back just as genuinely. Truly I cannot account for my health after drinking this, but my happiness is all but guaranteed. Keeping eye contact, we clicked the glasses and downed the contents.

A burning in my throat like I've never felt before set me coughing. I clutched at my face, keeping it covered until I could get the liquid hellfire down. Across from me, Miss Havisham broke into outright laughter at my expense, and even Henry chuckled, though I was gratified to hear that his voice was a bit strained. As soon as I could safely uncover my face I looked at him. He was still smiling, his eyes looking less focused than before, almost blurry.  

Eureka.

And so passed the next hour. We nibbled tiny things and the ladies laughed and kept a sharp eye on Henry's sobriety, as did I. Every so often I would offer him another drink and then he would insist, despite all my protests, that I join him in the toast. The room began to wave around me, and his laughs sounded freer and his movements more expansive. He even reached to take Miss Havisham's hand, holding it in his own passionately while whispering in her ear. It was time for my graceful exit.

I groaned. "Oh dear, I don't feel well. I think that last toast has done me in." I rose and swayed. "If you ladies would excuse me, I will go lie down for a bit. Please stay here and enjoy."

Henry rose as well. "I will accompany you, make sure you are comfortable."

I put up a hand. At least, I think I did. It was hard to tell which way was up. "No, no, these ladies were hoping for a good evening. Who am I if I walked away with such a charming host? Please look after them in my stead." Henry sat down again, slowly and I stumbled from the room.

The more I walked, the more ill I became. Even as my head pounded and my gorge threatened to rise, I knew it was worth it. One of the ladies would be leaving with more than she arrived with. I giggled sloppily. Perhaps a lot more. My private room was on the third floor, but I could not find the balance to get higher than the second floor landing. Dinner would not stay down. I stumbled for the indoor washroom.

I arrived not a moment too soon. Weaving drunkenly to the toilet, I dropped to my knees and hurled my guts out. It hurt. My eyes and nose ran, dripping onto the appalling pool of sick, and I kept hurling. I had never felt so miserable in my life. I had never been so drunk before and vowed then that I never would be again. I wished for a moment that Mother was home and feeling matronly enough to at least pat me on the back or the head. She had never been much for touching, though, always calling in the maid when I needed soothing. So I crouched by the toilet with my scheme born, my head clearing, and my throat and stomach sore from being sick. I clutched my middle, hating everything for a moment.

I heard steps behind me and a hand touched my back. Gentle pats at first, then circling, bigger and bigger, soothing strokes. I sighed softly and leaned over the toilet, tears still dripping down my face. I was well and truly miserable. And guilt at what would happen had started to take hold as well.

"It's' all so awful." I garbled around a thick tongue and sore palate.

"Drunkenness often is." Murmured a deep voice. I whirled around in recognition and dismay before quickly turning back to the toilet and heaving again.

"Why are you here?" I spat as soon as I could. "I asked you to attend the ladies downstairs. they must be," I gagged again, "Frightfully bored."

He sighed. "I sent them all home. They were disappointed at having the night cut short, but they understand that my priority is you."

I pressed my forehead to the cold seat of the toilet. It felt good. The rest of me felt worse, afflicting this much damage on myself to no end. "You were sup-p-posed to st-t-tay with them." Good grief, now I was well and truly crying.

"Until I got one of them with a child, I imagine?" I gasped, surprised and embarrassed to have my own scheme laid out before me. And me the one left utterly sloshed, no less. My humiliation could not possibly run deeper than it did now.

"Go home." I blubbered. I could barely make out the shape of his face as he regarded me.

"Not with you like this." He murmured. His hand continued stroking my back.

I elbowed him clumsily, trying to get him off. You smug bastard. Why should I feel guilty?! But of course I did. The situation was an unhappy one, but I had been trying to get him drunk enough that he would get someone with child. It was a terrible thing to do, yet his hand still stroked my back.

"How did you know?" I muttered.

He grinned. "Miss Havisham is my cousin. She made me aware of what might be at stake. She was excited to get to meet you, you know." He sighed. "I'm afraid you made a rather poor first impression."

"Good." I spat. "Maybe she will tell your father how unsuitable I am and then this farce can be over with!"

His hand stilled. "What is it about marrying me that you find so distasteful?"

"I hate you. I hate being shackled. To you." I added quickly. "You are smug, and proud, and so... so... so bloody handsome! I hate you!"

"That is a list of sins indeed." He could not hide the smile in his voice. I retched again.

"Go home."

"Not until you are comfortably settled." his tone was firm. The big fool would be a gentleman, even after I'd tried to set him up in the worst scandal.

"I will ' comfortably settled' myself, go home."

He sighed. "Stand up and walk to your room unaided. Then I'll know you need no further help and I will be out of your way."

"Whatever it takes to make you go away." I mumbled. I rose. Instantly I fell back to my knees, heaving. " Please leave me be." My eyes started watering again, humiliated.

"I will ring for a maid then." He decided. He rose and I grasped his sleeve at the last moment.

"They will laugh at me for years if they catch me like this."

"You leave me at an impasse then, Lord Mallory. I cannot leave you like this and you will not let me ring for help. We both know that you will be found eventually. Allow me to help you to your room."

I sighed. A small, tired sigh. "Ok."

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Gold Digger - Chapter 8 | Gwilym Lee x OFC

A/N: What? Double upload? In one day? YES. Surprise, lovies! Also, I won’t be able to upload next week, so I decided to give you all a treat. There will be an ask game once this is posted, too.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, implied smut?

Word Count: ~2K

The Playlist (Updates Regularly)

Chapter List:  Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 

"You're bleeding!"

Lizzie looked down at the back of her hand and sighed. She hadn't noticed she started picking at a scab, leftover from when one of the kids scratched her during a playground fight a few days prior. She got up with a groan and went to the sink to wash the blood off and press a paper towel to the wound. 

She was absolutely shattered. Lizzie wasn't sure if it was just exhaustion and burnout or if Gwilym not really speaking to her all week had anything to do with it. She tried to reach out, only to have him tell her he's busy every time. At some point, she decided to give it up. If Gwilym wanted to see her, he knew where to find her. 

"Will you be okay while I'm gone?" Shelly looked genuinely concerned for her best friend's well-being. 

"Yes, Shells. Thanks," Lizzie nodded. "It's not like you'll cancel the trip anyways."  

"Yes, but the guilt trip..." Shelly's voice drifted as she looked at her friend's fallen face. "He'll call you, you know." 

"I must've come on to him too strong. Asking him to spend the night like some... some... some floozy!"

"Nonsense," Shelly snickered. "He probably is just busy, babe. Don't overthink it." 

"Too late!" 

"My taxi will be here any minute now. Are you sure you're alright?" Shelly asked again. 

"Yes, I'm fine!" Lizzie rolled her eyes and started pushing Shelly towards the door. "Go! Tell Joe I said hello!"  

"Hopefully Joe won't remember who you were when I'm done with him..." Shelly muttered as Lizzie pushed her out the door and closed it in her face. "That was rude!" 

"Have a safe flight!" Lizzie's muffled voice came through. 

Shelly laughed and pulled up her luggage's telescopic handle.

_______

Electric blue eyes stared into baby blue eyes. Gwilym had invited Clara out for lunch to talk the Jamie situation out and it was not going as well as he'd hoped it would. The conversation quickly turned to Clara's concerns about Lizzie's motives. Gwilym bit the inside of his cheek as he counted to 10 in his head, not letting Clara's words rile him up. Or at least attempting to remain calm while he had his own doubts, thanks to her and Ben. 

"The fact Ben thinks so, too, speaks volumes, my love." Clara shrugged and pursed her lips. 

"Don't call me that." Gwilym snapped. "You have no say in the matter. You left me, Clara." 

"That doesn't mean I don't care for you anymore," Clara said, her eyes playfully twinkling. "Or that I don't love you anymore." 

"I know what you're trying to do," Gwilym announced and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not going to work." 

"What?" 

"You can't leave me and expect me not to date anyone else, ever again, Clara!" 

"That's not what I'm doing," she smiled sweetly and put her hand on top of his. "I do still love you." 

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for you to finish playing these silly little games," Gwilym retracted his hand from under hers. "And, like I said when you left - I'm not going to be put 'on hold' until you figure out what it is you want." 

"I'm not expecting you to, it's just..." She paused as she tried to organize her thoughts. "Merida? Is that what you want, really?" 

"Her name is Lizzie." 

"Right, Merida." 

"You're an insolent child, for fuck's sake!" Gwilym shook his head in frustration. "Look, I don't know what her motives are, alright? I just know that she's beautiful, she wants the same things I do and -"

"She's not me, though." Clara shrugged nonchalantly. "Nor will she ever be." 

"Thank God!" Gwilym clasped his hands and looked up at the ceiling. "One of you is more than enough." 

_____

Joe was like a rubber ball, bouncing around as he waited for Shelly in the arrivals hall. He felt like he could explode just from the anticipation. He didn't tell anyone about his plans to fly Shelly out to him, and he had no one to share his excitement with. Not even Annie or Rory. He saw a flash of her behind a group of people and stretched his neck up, trying to spot her again. He almost jumped out of his skin when she showed up at his side. 

"Hello, hello," she drawled. 

"Hi!" Joe gave her an awkward side hug. "I didn't see you there!" 

"I can tell, you almost hung from the light fixtures." 

"I can't believe you're here!" he put his hands on her shoulders and searched her face for any sign of her being a hologram. "This is crazy!" 

"I'm crazy like that," Shelly smirked. "Plus, a free flight to the states? Count me in!" 

"I planned so much stuff to do. You're about to have the best weekend of your entire life." Joe tapped on the tip of her nose with his finger.

"Oh, yeah?" Shelly asked, taking his other hand off her shoulder and intertwining her fingers with his. "Lead the way, then."

 _____

'Not sure what it is I did or didn't do, but if you don't want to see me or talk to me anymore, you really should say so. I deserve that, at least.'

Lizzie bit her bottom lip and sent the text, her hands slightly shaky. She was drunk and lonely. She thought the silence without Shelly will be calming - but it only unnerved her that much more. She turned the volume up on the telly for more background noise and grabbed the bottle of wine to take a long swig. Glasses be damned. 

'I know I disappeared, and I know it's shitty, but it's not what you think it is.' Gwilym replied. 

'I asked you to spend the night and you bolted right out and never spoke to me again.'

'Are you home?'

'Yes.' 

'I'm coming over in a jiffy.'

Lizzie scoffed as she powered the screen off. Her mind was racing. On the one hand, the thought of seeing Gwilym again made her excited and giddy. On the other hand, she was absolutely livid with him. She glared at the door when the bell rung through her flat. 

"Hi," Gwilym greeted her at the door, his eyes soft. 

"Hello." Lizzie stared at him coolly. 

"Is it alright if I come in?" He asked apprehensively. Lizzie stepped aside to let him pass. She closed the door behind him and crossed her arms, keeping a safe distance from him. "Have you been drinking?" 

"Yes." She replied curtly.

"Alone?" 

"Yes. Why are you interrogating me?" She countered. 

"I'm not," Gwilym flushed slightly. "I understand you're cross with me..." 

"Cross?" Lizzie scoffed. "I'm fucking hurt." 

"I'm so sorry," he sat down on the sofa and beckoned her over. "I just..." 

"Where were you?" Lizzie obliged and sat on the other end of the sofa, shrinking as far away from him as she could. "I called and I texted and you just ignored me!" 

"I needed to think." 

"About what?!”

"Why do you fancy me?" 

"Pardon?" Lizzie raised an eyebrow, unsure if she heard correctly. 

"Why do you fancy me, Liz?" Gwilym repeated. 

"Are you joking right now?" Lizzie glared. "What kind of question is that?!" "Is it because of who I am or because of me?" 

"I think you might be drunker than I am," Lizzie muttered. 

"You know what I mean." Gwilym fired back. "And the fact that you won't answer the question -"

"You think I only want you because you're famous?" Lizzie chortled. "You're bonkers. A bloody loon." 

"Well, I -"

"I was so afraid that this would happen and it fucking did. Christ!" Lizzie brushed her curls away from her face. "You stupid idiot, I don't care about your celebrity status!" 

"You avoided me like the plague at first, then you're all over me..." 

"Because I thought you had no job and no money, you bloody tosser!" She hissed. "You don't know me or my heart. How dare you even assume..."

"I'm sorry." Gwilym cut her off. "I'm sorry. My friends got in my head. You were acting so... different."

"Your friends?" 

"Clara." Gwilym clarified sheepishly. 

"You're friends with your ex?" Lizzie blinked in confusion. 

"Not exactly friends... It's complicated," Gwilym shook his head. "Look, I was just with her, I told her off about it -"

"You were with her?!" Lizzie guffawed. "Gwilym, you should leave." 

"It's not what you think, I was with her to tell her to stop doing what she's doing to me!"

"What is she doing to you, exactly?" Lizzie raised an eyebrow and squinted. 

"Holding me back." Gwilym shrugged. 

"From what?" 

"Well, this," Gwilym said and lunged forward, closing the distance between them, and pressing his lips to Lizzie's. 

He cradled her face in his hands and nibbled on her bottom lip, prompting her to kiss him back. When he was just about to pull away, she did.

_____

“So!” Joe said as he opened the passenger’s side door for Shelly, “let’s go get you settled in!” 

“Joe.” 

“Yeah?”

“As much as I’m enjoying your frantic ramblings,” Shelly smirked, “will it be totally out of line for you to kiss me already?” 

“What?” Joe’s brows knotted as he let her words sink. “Oh!”  

“Oh!” Shelly mimicked, her nose just bumping with the tip of his nose. “So…?”  

Joe grinned and chuckled as he closed the miniature gap they still had left.

______

“Give me some of that!” Gwilym slurred slightly as he reached for the bottle in Lizzie’s hand.

“No, this one’s mine!” She protested and leaned back, stretching her arm up and away, over her head. “Get your own!” 

“Oh, come on!” Gwilym pouted and batted his eyelashes at her. “Please?” 

“Nuh-uh!” Lizzie sing-sang and laughed when Gwilym laid flush on top of her, reaching for the bottle. 

“You’ll spill it.” His voice was raspy and low, his lips grazing hers. “Reckless girl…”

Lizzie poked her tongue out and licked at his lips sloppily, making him grunt and rut his hips onto hers. His trousers rustled against her leggings as she opened her legs slightly wider, accommodating him. 

______

“We need to make it out of the car, Joe,” Shelly giggled as he nibbled on the crook of her neck, leaning over the console. “Joseph!” 

“I’m just -” he started and nibbled her again, “you’re just so yummy I’m -���  

“Oh, I’m yummy?” Shelly smirked. 

“God, yes.” Joe sighed and leaned back into his seat. “But okay. Okay, we’ll continue this soon enough.”

_______

“I feel like a bloody teenager again,” Gwilym laughed and kissed Lizzie’s neck, thrusting his hips into hers. “Dry-humping like some horny puppy…” Lizzie’s melodic laughter filled his ears. “You think this is funny?” 

“Mhm!” Lizzie shifted slightly and bucked into him, making him wince. “Very.” 

“I’m in actual physical pain, here!” Gwilym protested and sneaked his hand under her top, “and you find it funny?” 

“Hilarious, actually.” 

“Bad woman,” Gwilym nipped at her earlobe.

 His warm hand left a searing trail behind it wherever it went. He cupped her breast in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he pushed her top up her torso with the other. 

“No.” Lizzie murmured and wriggled under him. “No!” she said a bit louder. 

“What?” Gwilym froze and leaned back, searching her face.

“I don’t…” Lizzie slurred and mentally kicked herself for getting so drunk and turned on after being so angry with him. “I wanna stop.” 

“I’m confused,” Gwil said as he sat up.

“I know, me too,” Lizzie kept eye contact and shrugged. “Feels wrong to do this, so I wanna stop.” 

“Oh,” Gwilym pouted. “I’m…” 

“And I’m still fuming at you for ghosting me,” Lizzie remarked. “That was a dick move.” 

“It was. I’m sorry,” Gwilym frowned. “I’m also in pain.”

“Good!” Lizzie smiled triumphantly. “Now you know what happens when you hurt me!” 

“Where’s Shelly, by the way?” Gwil wondered. 

“At Joe’s.” 

“What?”

________

“You said you made plans?” Shelly asked Joe as she pulled his shirt up over his head and straddled him on the sofa. 

“Fuck plans.” Joe gulped when she pulled her own shirt up over her head and revealed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Holy moly.” 

“Mmmm…” Shelly gently grazed her fingernails over his skin, watching his muscles spasm in her wake. “Are you ready?” 

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” Joe murmured in a southern accent and grabbed Shelly’s hips. 

“Yeehaw!” she whispered in his ear.

 ______

TAGLIST: @filmslutt @lose-you-to-find-me @sonic-volcano  @nosferatyou @rogertaylorin1976 @mrhoemazzello

[trash-cube]

I’m sorry it’s kind of long, I have never done one of these before. But I have been playing @seraphinitegames The Wayhaven Chronicles for the past few days, and I got inspired to write again! What better way to practice than with something I enjoy.

I would appreciate any and all feedback if you would like to give it, otherwise if you’re interested here is a thing I wrote:

(the title is still a work in progress)

“I just don’t understand why we need to come back here so soon. We literally just checked on the supernaturals, everything looked fine.” I ask, trying to hide just how confused I am while being pulled deeper into the carnival by a stoic Adam.

“There is nothing wrong with being thorough, Detective.” he replies nonchalantly, clearly not intending to give a straight answer. He instead just continues forward, weaving between families and tents with the detective in tow.

“You could have at least let me eat dinner first.” I start to pout, trying to talk over my grumbling stomach while staring at the funnel cake the group next to us seems to be hoarding jealously. What I wouldn’t give for one of those right now.

“I promise you, it’s more important than whatever pastry you’re lusting after right now.” I furrow my brow, annoyed that he knows me well enough to know just when and how I am staring at sweets. 

We silently press on through the carnival until Adam finally comes to an abrupt stop in front of a stall that I didn’t quite catch before walking directly into him. I look up, my cheeks glowing bright red when I notice the smirk plastered on his face as he looks down at me. “What’s your hurry, Detective?” he says with a chuckle.

I turn around to see where we’ve ended up and immediately get a headache at the sight.

He brought us back to the duck-hook booth.

“This is what was so important that I had to skip dinner?” I fold my arms, once again reminded of just how hard my stomach is protesting.

“I finally figured it out,” He replies, genuine enthusiasm only just escaping past his usual expressionless demeanor. “I have been practicing for weeks and I finally understand how to beat this ungodly attraction.”

“Weeks?!” I can hardly believe that this has been consuming his thoughts for even an hour, let alone weeks.

“You are hardly in any position to judge. I have seen how invested you get in spending time browsing pastries at Haley’s.” He also crosses his arms as he says this, clearly irked that I am not taking this as seriously as he thinks I should.

I hold up my arms in surrender. “Point taken, I’m sorry.” I say, stifling a laugh. He frowns and turns his attention to the vendor, looking at his only ticket hungrily, the moment somewhat consuming him.

“Feel like tryin’ your luck?” the vendor asks with a wide smile partly hidden beneath a bushy mustache. He takes the ticket and hands Adam the hook, which he then grips firmly enough for his knuckles to turn white. He approaches the ducks, eyes narrowed in focus. 

“Good luck.” I offer with a smile. He pays me no mind, already engrossed in his battle stance. I lean against a neighboring stall and watch as the vendor turns on the game.

I notice Adam’s muscles tensing as the ducks begin their taunting choreography. Immediately he hooks one of the ducks, his frown only deepening as he tries to retain his focus. He doesn’t venture an attempt again until he has one clearly in his sights. He hooks it flawlessly.

Five minutes pass. The only movements he dares to make are moving his eyes to follow the rigid motion of the ducks. The vendor lets out a wide yawn, clearly becoming bored with how seriously Adam is taking this game. I am about to mimic that yawn when Adam snatches a duck in a flash of moment so fast that I barely catch it. The vendor also attempts to follow the movement and nearly falls over. Then as quickly as he attacked, he is now still again. 

Five more minutes pass, the vendor casting an irritated gaze down at his watch. “Look buddy, I’ll give ya one more minute but I can’t wait on ‘ya all night.” Adam flashes him an agitated look before returning his attention to the ducks. Clearly under an immense amount of pressure now that there is a time limit, he sloppily swings the hook forward to ensnare his fourth duck. Only one more to go.

I stare at Adam a bit more intently as his movements become less calculated, a bit of desperation noticeable in his deeply furrowed brow. Is he...sweating?

He moves the hook in one final motion, hoping that his aim is correct. He grazes the neck of the duck, narrowly missing, and sends it cascading down into the children’s pool below. I don’t dare say a word. I simply creep over to the vendor while Adam’s fiery gaze is fixated on the duck, maybe hoping he’ll scare it into submission.

“Look,” I whisper, hoping Adam is too focused on the duck to hear me. “This is yours if you give him literally anything. Say there was a fluke or something.” I reach into my wallet and pull out some cash that the vendor sizes up.

“I dunno,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s about to say something else when Adam lets out a strained breath, anger lacing every bit of the exhalation. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of that anger, the vendor quickly snatches my money and tugs a small plush toy off of one of the shelves, offering it to a now confused Adam. “Must have been a screw-up with the belt! I’ll have to get that looked at, but here ya go!” he says with a nervous laugh, holding out the small blue teddy bear as far away from himself as possible.

Pride washes over Adam’s intense features, confusion starting to melt away. He gladly takes the bear, and the vendor yanks his hand away when the harrowing ordeal is over. He then pulls down the shade in front of his booth, which is our cue to leave.

We begin walking away, getting as far as the edge of a clearing lined with food stands before he stops and turns towards me. “Detective,” he says, satisfaction embedded in his tone. “This is for you.” He presents the shaggy blue teddy proudly. I can’t help but smile back at how determined he’d been. I have no idea whether it was to win a prize for me or to simply regain his honor from his previous loss, but I don’t care. I gingerly take the bear and coil myself around his muscular arm affectionately. He smiles down at me, using his free hand to lift my chin up so our gazes meet. 

Neither of us move, neither of us blinks. We are both enveloped in each other’s eyes. I revel in the chill his icy green stare sends down my spine, and my cheeks get hot as I notice him moving his head closer to mine. I start to close my eyes in anticipation for what’s coming when we both hear a loud voice booming from the other side of the clearing. “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Farah bounds towards us gracefully, Nate close behind but treading lightly for fear of dropping all of the novelty items Farah has entrusted to him. Adam hasn’t stopped looking at me, and I hear a low growl as he retreats quickly, our faces having been only an inch apart a moment ago. I let out a defeated sigh and admire the small animal Adam “won”.

“Jeez, what took you guys so long?” she prods, her gaze quickly traveling between Adam, myself, and the bear. A long smile spreads over her face as she turns to look at Adam. “So that’s where all those ducks came from.” I hear a groan come from Nate behind a wall of plastic horns.

“Farah…” Nate scolds.

“Oh come on, you were thinking the same thing!” she replies with a laugh. How many ducks could he have possibly gone through? 

“Are you quite finished?” Adam says in irritation. Farah is now smiling triumphantly, a wide grin etched across her face at hearing his annoyance.

“Only until Diana is out of earshot.” She grabs a handful of cotton candy from the pile that Nate is lugging around and tosses it into her mouth, possibly in an attempt to stop herself from saying something else.

“Are you done here?” Nate asks. “I don’t think I’ll have room to hold anything else you might fancy. You’ll have to start taking some of it.” Terrified at the idea of bearing her own baubles, she quickly waves at us.

“Grbah!” she says past a mouthful of cotton candy as she whisks Nate away before he has time to give her anything to carry.

“Was she saying goodbye?” My eyes narrow in thought. I know plenty of languages but none of that matters when trying to understand Farah talking with her mouth full.

“If she wasn’t, I don’t think I want to know what she was saying.” Adam states, folding his arms and burying a slight chuckle. His gaze travels over me and he notices that I am still hugging the bear he gave me, something that I myself wasn’t even aware of. His face softens, and he pulls me closer to him as gently as I have ever known him to do anything. He places my cheek in his hand and holds me tenderly. My heart is hammering in my chest, a fact I am sure he notices as his cheeks flush the faintest shade of pink. He leans down to accommodate my small stature as he closes the gap between us, his lips finally cascading over mine.

I can barely help but smile against his touch as I’m submerged in ecstasy. Everything about him feels so right, and I become slightly intoxicated by the moment. The kiss becomes deeper and hungrier as we both realize that it is something we have both wanted for a very long time. I wrap my arms around his neck in an attempt to get even closer to him, and he responds by breaking away from me, a ravenous look in his eye.

I don’t have time to ask what’s wrong before he scoops me up and breaks off in a mad dash. The carnival passes by in a steady stream of bright colors as we run past at an inhuman speed. Before I know it, we are in the hallway of my apartment. He sets me down, almost reluctantly, and I put a hand against the wall to try and steady myself, everything that had taken place just now making it very hard to stand up straight. I catch my breath and fumble with my keys to let us into my quiet, barren apartment. Adam’s eyes don’t leave me for a second.

He seems to be coming down to a state of normalcy as he enters my home, a sort of calm passing over him. I am right at his heels until we are both inside, and as I turn the lock of my door I feel him right behind me. He grabs my hips and stoops down to lightly kiss my neck, then starts to kiss it with more agency. I almost hear him breathe out a few words against my skin which is now covered in goosebumps. Before I can focus a bit more to figure out what it is he said, he picks me up and pins me between him and the wall. I wrap my legs around him for added stability as his lips are once again enveloping mine.

Everything is moving so fast, but at the same time it feels as though the two of us are frozen. Our movements are rushed but they feel so natural as we meld into one another. His hands cradle me softly as we become intertwined in an endless kiss, only stopping when I finally run out of air. He puts me down and takes a wide step back from me, breathing heavily as he does so. He gets more tense, like being apart from me in that moment was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. My mouth feels dry and my chest heaves up and down to aid my labored breaths as I try to think about what just happened...and why it feels so wrong now that we’ve stopped.

“I apologize, Dia--...Detective,” he says, his composure almost fully regained at this point. “I don’t know what came over me.” His head seems to hang a bit lower, like he feels real remorse for what just transpired between us.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” I say, walking over to him and taking his hand in both of mine. The look in his eye makes it seem like he will pull away from my grasp as soon as he’s in it, but his shoulders unwind a bit and he finally accepts the gesture.

“I should go, I don’t want to trouble you any further.” There is a heaviness to his words that directly contrasts with the moment we just shared, but I try to ignore the sharp pain it sends into my stomach as I look up at him. He starts to make for the door.

“Would you at least stay while I make some dinner?” I blurt out, a hopeful tone lifting my words. His hard gaze softens and he smiles. With a half-hearted nod, he shrugs his coat off and hangs it next to the door. His muscles bulge at the motion under his skin-tight grey t-shirt, and I find it impossible to look away from his perfect figure.

“Are you alright?”

“Y--yes!” I say, quicker than I should have. He chuckles and takes a seat on the couch. As uncomfortable as he looks, it is the first time I have noticed him do anything other than stand in my home. I turn around and head to the kitchen to hide the smile rapidly making its way onto my face.

Once I’m in my kitchen, I start rummaging through my cupboards and fridge, hoping that I can find something to make. Unfortunately, I forgot to restock my shelves today so the search yields very little. I manage to find a mostly empty box of pasta hidden behind other odds and ends, and with a sigh I start boiling water. I spread my hands across my counter-top in thought, eventually getting back to my search. I found just enough to make a light sauce for the noodles, so I count that as a personal victory.

“Are you hungry?” I instinctively ask. I don’t usually have house guests but I have also never seen this house guest eat, so it seemed like an unnecessary question. I turn around to address him further, about to head into the living room when I have to make an abrupt stop to avoid running into him for the second time today. His eyes go wide as though he is only now realizing how close he actually is to me. He takes a step back, but not a wide one this time.

“Thank you, Detective,” he begins. “But I find that highly unnecessary.” Of course he does.

A silence falls over us, and he starts to run his hand over the back of his head as though trying to remember why he got up in the first place. I open my mouth to try and make something barely passable as conversation when he beats me to it.

“Diana.” I can’t fight the flutter in my stomach at hearing him say my name. “Have you...enjoyed the evening so far?” I assume he is only trying to make basic conversation, but there is a weight on his voice that lets me know there is some deeper answer he’s searching for. I take a step closer and almost close the gap between us, even without hyper-senses I can hear his rapid heartbeat drumming in his chest.

“Every bit of it.” I reach my hand out to touch his arm, but before I finish that motion he has me wrapped in a warm embrace, his breathing a bit unsteady at first, but it slowly returns to its natural rhythm. I lay my head against him and he places a hand on the back of it, trying to keep me close to him. We stand there for what seems like ages, and every second of it is perfect. 

As hungry as I was earlier, that is the last thing I care about right now. Reluctantly, I break away from our embrace so I can at least pretend to be responsible for my own belongings. I turn off the burner and head into my bedroom followed closely by Adam. We get into bed together, laying against one another in blissful silence, the only sound being the soft breaths emanating from both of us. At this moment, I feel like nothing can hurt me. I wrap an arm over him and rest my head against his broad, muscular chest. Everything seems distant except for him, and I don’t even realize when I fall asleep against him.

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

Adam lets a small smile creep over his face as he holds the detective. He doesn’t want this moment to end, and fears any sudden sound or movement will do just that. He even tries to slow down his breathing so the rise and fall of his chest doesn’t make her stir as she falls asleep. She looks so peaceful, so calm. She looks like everything he has ever wanted. 

He moves his arm to wrap it around her and hold her closer, to which her sleeping form responds by nestling further into him. He turns his attention to the window; the sun set some time ago, and the rest of Unit Bravo will be wondering where he is by now.

“Good, let them wonder.” he thinks to himself. He is already exactly where he wants to be. Where he needs to be. He can handle the heckling from Farah, the concern from Nate, and the snide remarks from Morgan, but he will do so tomorrow. Adam then begins to let himself settle, allowing sleep overtaking him for once. The smile he’s wearing widens, and the detective’s tranquil expression is the last thing he sees before he also succumbs to slumber.

[theentiregdtime]

Please bless us with some charden in high school

Dennis is on his way to meet Charlie under the bleachers.

They usually get high about this time of day, but unfortunately, they need Mac for that- and he's home with the flu.

Normally, Dennis would be pissed, but he and Charlie both went to see him after school yesterday and... yeah, he didn't look so good. Or smell so good.

So they're settling for cigarettes today. It'll have to do.

Before he's even under the bleachers, though, he can hear the sound of sniffling echoing off of the steel. At first, he thinks Charlie is probably huffing something, but then there's an unmistakable sob.

Ah, fuck.

Dennis doesn't like these kinds of situations- that's why Mac and Charlie always just handle them together. Dennis can't wrap himself up in other peoples' shit, because he's got his own shit to deal with, and he doesn't want to deal with it. He wants to stuff it down and pretend it doesn't exist, so why can't everybody else do that, too?

Fighting all of his instincts to bolt, he makes his way down the bleachers. He's not entirely sure how to handle this, but he's not going to abandon him. Mac's not here and Charlie needs someone, and Charlie only has Mac and Dennis, so...

This is sort of the only option.

When Charlie comes into view, he's curled in on himself, bundled in a too-big hoodie despite it being eighty degrees out. He has days like that, where he wants to buried in his clothes and he doesn't want anyone to touch him. Dennis pretends he doesn't know why, but he kind of knows all too well.

That is one thing they share that Mac just can't understand- at least, as far as Dennis knows.

Not that Dennis has ever been... He wanted to...

He shakes his head and forgets it.

"Hey, man..." Dennis starts, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking awkwardly on his feet. He doesn't know if he should stand or sit, or touch him, or keep his distance, or talk, or say nothing...

Charlie sniffs into his jacket once more, a gross, snotty, phlegmy sort of sound. For a moment, Dennis thinks he might be getting sick, too, until he glances up and he's perfectly healthy (at least, by Charlie standards), but his eyes are red-rimmed and his face is soaking wet.

"Oh," he mumbles, noticing Dennis' presence. "Hey."

"Are you...?"

"You don't- don't have to stay, dude," -he hiccups- "I-I'm okay."

He doesn't really mean that- it's a guilt trip thing. It means Dennis definitely does have to stay.

He sits on the ground and makes himself comfortable next to Charlie, drumming his fingers nervously on his leg. He doesn't look at him, not directly. He tells himself that it's because he looks gross, not because he doesn't know how to deal with genuine, raw, honest emotions.

"Is, uh... Is this about Mac?" Dennis asks tentatively, sliding the pack of cigarettes out of his jeans. "'Cause he's gonna be fine, man, he'll be back by next week."

Charlie shakes his head softly, arms wrapped around his knees, eyes on his own shoes. "No, i-it's-" -another hiccup- "it's not that."

"Then, uh..." -he pulls a cigarette out of the pack and cradles it between his fingers, fumbling for his lighter, just to give his hands something to do, just to give him anything else to focus on- "what's... what's up?"

Charlie snorts again, then swallows. Blech.

"It's just- It's like- I-" He takes a couple of strained, shallow breaths.

He needs a minute. He's not going to say anything coherent otherwise.

Dennis doesn't pry, instead lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag. It makes him cough, deep in his chest, but he holds it in and pretends it doesn't.

A few minutes pass, and nothing changes. Dennis has taken to staring into space, drawing occasional puffs and blowing smoke up into the air. Charlie snuffles quietly beside him, but neither says anything. Dennis doesn't know what to ask and Charlie isn't ready to talk quite yet.

A long whine escapes Charlie's throat, and it's like a punch straight to Dennis' chest. Every muscle in his body tenses. He knows exactly what that sound is, and he knows what it feels like. It's helplessness. It's vulnerability. It's knowing you can't change the shitty hand life is dealing you, but you can't be one of those people who claim they're better off for it, either, so you just collapse on yourself like a house of cards. Anything would be better than this, that's what that sound means, just, please, any reality but this one. But nothing ever changes because no one is ever listening.

Dennis slips his cardigan (his expensive cardigan) off of his shoulders and drapes it sloppily over Charlie's back. He's already wearing about three layers of clothing, so it's kind of moot. Dennis doesn't know what else to do, though.

Charlie lifts his head up and sniffles, gaping at him all doe-eyed like no one's ever been that tender with him before. That seems ridiculous at first, but Dennis figures it makes sense- he and Mac are always wrestling and throwing rocks at each other and using fist bumps as a form of affection.

His face is still damp, but he's not really crying anymore. His breathing is shaky, but it's there, and it's steady, and it's all coming back down.

"It's like," Charlie whispers, "sometimes there are no- no distractions. And it sucks."

Yeah. Dennis knows exactly what he means.

He should have realized that. He should have known that if Mac wasn't here, then Charlie would be spending a lot of his day alone, and Charlie isn't good at alone.

Dennis puts his cigarette out on the ground. He isn't sure how many hands he's going to need. He reaches over- not hesitant in any way, just gentle- and wraps his arm around Charlie's back to tug him in by the shoulder. He gives him a couple of soft pats. He's going to be okay. At least, their version of okay.

Charlie doesn't object. He doesn't say anything at all. He simply lets his head tip over until it falls onto Dennis' chest. It's fine. He's not too heavy.

"World's a really shitty place sometimes," Dennis mutters. "It's never gonna stop being shitty. But I'll be here to back you up, okay? I'm not..."

He swallows a lump, afraid he's making a promise he can't keep. But so what if he is? It's better than nothing at all.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you again, man."

He can feel Charlie nod against his chest. His muscles relax, and all of his defenses come undone, like he really believes him. Even if it doesn't work out that way, maybe it's better for Charlie to believe have something to believe in, right?

And then he's asleep- out cold like he hasn't slept in days. Maybe he hasn’t.

Dennis fumbles for another cigarette the best he can- and holds it between his thighs while he lights it, trying to keep from setting Charlie's hair on fire. He lifts it to his lips and takes the first drag right as the bell for the next period rings.

It doesn't wake Charlie. Dennis doesn't mind.

They stay there, under the bleachers, until the final bell goes off at the end of the school day. Dennis runs out of smokes, and his legs fall asleep, but he never lets go.

He has a strange, haunting, unfamiliar feeling like everything is going to be all right.

[siilvers-blog]

thor x gn!reader // shopping fiasco

word count : 2 001

just to kick-start the blog !! this thing has been laying around my ao3 for a while now , so i actually have some content to put here to showcase the future of this blog , i guess haha ?? i don’t wanna talk for too long , so enjoy !! reader is gender neutral , feedback is appreciated ofc <33 i love my strong buff space babey

- mod em

( under the cut for length ! )

“God…” You huffed, heels clicking against the wet sidewalk, despite the fact that the heels themselves were quite small. The three giant paper shopping bags were already damp – two of which you were holding, the third hanging off of your right wrist. You could feel your shirt getting slightly wet due to the bags and though it wasn’t unbearable, it just felt wrong. You cursed at yourself for deciding to walk to the store instead of driving. It was just so sunny in the morning, no one could’ve guessed it would’ve started raining so suddenly. Not to mention, you definitely couldn’t have guessed you would wind up with so many groceries. It already spoiled your mood, to see it raining once you left the store was even worse. The cherry on the top was the car that splashed you, making you even more wet than before, but that was without saying. You had absolutely no idea if you were going to make it through the fifteen whole minutes it takes to go back to your apartment. And in the odd case you did, you could already hear your roommate mocking you and telling you that you should’ve paid attention to the weather report.

Of course, the streets of New York proved to be friendly as ever – no one even batted an eye to your struggle or offered to help, which annoyed you to a small extent. Sure, they might’ve had other things to do, but seriously, you could barely even see where you were going because of the damned bags! And no, you sure as hell weren’t going to ask anyone either, that was too big of a price to pay and you sure didn’t need another topping on the abundance of disasters which happened today. Being turned down harshly by someone was going to make everything a hundred times worse, you’d think about it for the rest of your life! But to say it wasn’t tempting would’ve been a huge understatement.

And literally, after two minutes of walking, you felt like you’d pass out any minute. You tilted your head upwards, eyes desperately in search of a bench. Even if it was a wet bench, you didn’t care. The fact that the rain had subsided to a light drizzle was already enough for you, but you definitely still needed to sit down and rethink your life decisions. Unfortunately, it didn’t take you long to realize that in this dark world, there were no benches you could sit upon and you were about to resort to your secret weapon – crying. Not to guilt-trip a random passerby into helping you, no, you just genuinely wanted to cry. But you had already stopped yourself before you could even start, believing you had found your salvation.

There, taking a selfie with two random girls, was none-other than Thor himself. He had changed since the last time you saw him on TV, you recalled. He didn’t have the long blond locks adorning him anymore, hair sloppily chopped up. That all paled in front of the fact that his right eye was covered with an eye-patch, you could only assume that the eye was missing. Nevertheless, you had to admit, he was still incredibly attractive. You wanted to approach him and ask for help, naturally, he was a strong hero – but the girls that had flocked to him just a second ago for that selfie were a reminder to you that he was a nation-wide hero, a very desired one at that. It reminded just how intimidating he was, helping some random person off the street with shopping bags just didn’t seem to be a fit in the schedule. And actually, what the hell was he even doing here? Last time you checked, he wasn’t even human.

But after a second of pondering you had decided to swallow your pride and anxiety, and approach him before he left. Your legs wobbled on the way and you weren’t even sure if it was fear or fatigue, you only hoped you weren’t going to fall over in front of a norse god. You breathed in.

“E…Excuse me…”

That was terrible, nice going!

It took him a second to notice you over the bags, not to mention he was towering over your small frame, but once he did, his face twisted into a friendly smile. “Ah, are you here for one of those pictures?”

Your face was flushed red, you half-debated whether you should just say yes, take the dumb selfie and flee, there was no way he was going to agree with your outlandish request! But…either way, you were already dying, so what did it matter?

“N- No-“ you had denied, but quickly stopped yourself. “N- Not to say I w- wouldn’t want one o- on a normal occasion, b- but- I just wanted to ask if you could please help me with my bags, I- I’m so cl- close to just dropping them and b- being done with it, b- but-”

“Oh, of course!” And before you could even comprehend his answer, the two bags you were cradling were off of your strained arms and firmly held by the straps in his own hands. He glanced at the remaining one, completely ignoring your wide eyes. “Do you need me to carry that one too?”

You could only gape at the man, your face even more red than before. Out of all the ways your day could’ve gone…Thor Odinson, the god of thunder himself, was ready to carry your bags for you.

“N- No, I’m okay!” You stuttered out quickly, face miraculously redder than before as you stared at the man that was looking at you expectantly. Oh! He didn’t know where you lived, of course! “R- Right, let’s go! I don’t live too far from here, s- so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem! S- Sorry!”

“It is no problem, midgardian! I think my brother was about to stand me up anyways!” He grinned, unlike you, pretty unfazed by the bags in his hands. “So, what is your name?”

“(Y/N).” You answered with a smile, not bothering to look him in the eyes in fear of going red again. “I…I guess it’s nice to meet you, I mean… I- I know who you are and t- this is kind of a lousy way to meet an avenger, I- I mean, not like this i- is a long-term thing-”

“You seem awfully anxious,” he started. “It is merely a couple of bags, if you are worried, I have been through worse.” He finished it off with a chuckle and though you definitely would’ve been worried if it were a normal person, it wasn’t the cause of your anxiety currently.

“N- No, that’s not the case!” You rebutted right away, not wanting him to get it wrong. “I’ve just had a super shitty day and I literally just asked one of the world’s mightiest heroes to carry my shopping bags because I’m this pathetic, you know?”

You definitely couldn’t tell, but he was quite amused by your small rambling. Besides, it wasn’t everyday a midgardian asked him to carry their bags, quite the humorous development if he had to say so himself. And he made it apparent in a second by letting a light laugh leave his mouth – a bit different from the chuckle, you could tell, it seemed more reassuring.

“It’s almost like I would only help in life-or-death situation. If I am here, I might as well do something good that doesn’t have me in a life-threatening situation.” His smile got even wider, but this time you looked and got to witness how charming he actually looked with that soft expression on his face. You found yourself…feeling better. “It’s doing something good that matters, don’t you think?”

“I guess so…”

The rest of the walk was filled with small-talk and yet, it was oddly fun. Obviously, it was all made better by the fact that you only had to carry one bag, that Thor kept insisting on taking throughout the whole trip, saying that he might as well carry them all. But you were fine, this time definitely. Plus, you couldn’t wait to brag to your roommate about Thor keeping you company and carrying your bags, you thought you deserved the bragging rights by now. Occasionally, you two were interrupted by girls - and sometimes guys – stopping you two and taking a picture with Thor, but you weren’t bothered, it was cute to see him act so nice towards his fans and you could only watch with a fond smile from the sidelines. But of course, your apartment wasn’t that far, and the fun you were having with your companion was bound to be cut short any second. He had walked you up the stairs, not wanting to leave you alone with three bags. But, of course, here your door stood and it was the time to split ways. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, especially with the fact that you had only met approximately fifteen minutes ago, but he had a surprisingly…friendly presence that you didn’t want to separate from. It might’ve been just the five-year-old in your heart talking, but you wanted to…spend more time with him, as if this encounter meant something.

It didn’t, most likely, but you wanted it to.

“Well, I hope you do not run into a problem like this next time you go shopping!” He exclaimed, smile not dropping as he watched you fiddle with your keys.

You shoved the key into the keyhole violently, a bit too much for your tastes, but your hands were trembling nervously and you wouldn’t have actually put the key in if you were doing it with the usual gentleness. There was a single question running through your head right now, kind of like a half-assed rehearsal and you were almost debating whether you should even utter anything besides a ‘goodbye’ at this point, but…you needed to take charge.

“Listen, Thor…” You cringed at your own words, it was like you were talking to an old friend, which…wasn’t how you intended to say it. But at least you had gotten his attention. “D- Do you want to, like, I dunno, hang out some time? L- Like, let me repay you for helping me here- I k- know heroic deeds don’t need a reward most of the time, b- but, and I’m just assuming, but y- you probably don’t have the hang of New York yet, s- so I’d like to show you s- some coffee shops or a f- fast food joint-”

“Have you been to Shawarma Palace before?” He interrupted your ramblings yet again, proposing an interesting question. You couldn’t say you have, you’ve seen it sometimes during your walks, but…

“No, what of it?”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll be the one showing you this fast food joint you speak of!” He chuckled slyly, pulling out a phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Stark had given me this device, told me to put it to good use and said I can contact people with it and that I just need a number of sorts. Think you can help me with that, midgardian?”

“R-Right!” You quickly grabbed the phone from his hand and typed your number in, not forgetting to give yourself a small call just so you could have his – you know, in case you decided to make the first move (extremely unlikely outcome).

“I’ll make sure to ask Stark how to work this.” He said as you returned the phone to him. “In the meantime, don’t get stuck with this many bags, I might not be around to help.”

And that was the last of him that you heard that day, seeing as how he gave you a small wave and made his leave, while you stood there, completely in shock after realizing what had seriously just happened.

You definitely deserved those bragging rights.

[birminghamblinders]

baptism by fire; tommy shelby

Business is not an industry which lends itself to possessing an empathetic nature. Business is by design the striving to procure profits, and businesses which succeed do not do so through weaknesses and by making excuses for the shortcomings of themselves or of the various inferiors which make up their labor staff. Businessmen, then, as the main extension of this cognitive, innovative, cut-throat machine, are also not by nature kind-hearted or gentle. Choosing to enter into business means that one must be capable of making very calculated decisions with their own money and with the money of others. They also must see the parts of their company-and to many, employees often registered only as a moving part in a greater machine-as disposable when they are broken. Thus, although business does not generally allow for strong expressions of emotion, Tommy Shelby believed there were “no hard feelings” when he had to release a person from his employment. He held no personal vendetta against the ex-employee, and did even earnestly hope they would realize the error of their focused labor and once again find fruitful employment elsewhere. But conversely, he would note to himself the error of his ways in allowing an employee of less-than-acceptable caliber to be hired, and would remember what traits made that person useless in the future.

Tommy had to let people go and hire new people on a fairly regular basis. He generally believed in hiring younger people to do menial labor, on the idea that they would have more energy and thus be able to execute these tasks over a larger spread of hours. The past month, however, Tommy had fired two young men or about twenty, who had been hired for menial labor but had proven to be prone to slacking off on the job. He bore no ill will to them, and in parting mentioned a shipping company which operated out of dock forty-three which was hiring, in the genuine if not deeply-felt hope they would reform and become contributing members of society.

Besides, Tommy had larger things to worry about than the performance of workers who neared the bottom of the Shelby Company food chain. In merely three weeks, if all went well, he was going to recite his wedding vows to the love of his life in the full and unyielding gaze of their pastor and before the gentle eyes of God. Tommy and his soon-to-be wife endeavored to make their wedding as small an affair as was possible, only extending invitations to those who they actually, truly wanted to he there. Eliminating the menial made the whole thing blessedly easy to plan, and he found himself mainly concerned with planning out the right words to say to his life partner when she arrived at the altar.

—

Thankfully, the wedding went as smoothly as any Tommy had ever attended, and the flurry of the day seemed to end as quickly as it began. When he settled into bed next to his newly acquired wife that night, slipping a gentle arm around her waist, he even entertained the fantasy that the wedding had taken away so little of his concentration from work that he might be able to take a few days and have a honeymoon of sorts with her.

This was not the case, as both the legal and illegal enterprises of the Shelby Company were growing at a seemingly exponential rate. He was no sooner able to take a few days off without consequences as he was to grow wings. His wife, the young, pretty, tough creature she was, shrugged this slight off, and told her husband he had things he needed to do for the good of his family, and that said family also included her now, and so he had better get to work. Guilted by his inability to properly celebrate his wedding with his wife, but also emboldened by her strong words of encouragement, Tommy dove right back into the chaos of the Company, cutting deals on firearms and horse races in equal stride.

Unbeknownst to either man or wife, the two young men who had just a short while ago been terminated from Shelby company employment had not shrugged it off as a loss of low-level job of which there were plenty in Small Heath, but had instead chosen to interpret it as a personal slight and a middle finger directly from Tommy Shelby. As uneducated as their interpretation of a routine firing might have been, they were not so ignorant as to think they could exact revenge on their perceived enemy in a face to face interaction with him. They instead chose to focus on his weaknesses, and despite the whole thing being a low-level affair, there was no one in Birmingham who didn’t know Tommy Shelby had recently gotten married.

—

The two young men whom Tommy had fired were not in possession of any particularly great intellect, or capability to plan a complex kidnapping and ransom plot, but part of the reason they were hired initially was that they possessed plenty of brute strength. It would seem fairly reasonable that considering her relatively high profile relation to the Shelby family that there would be some type of protection for Tommy’s wife, but she had insisted on being allowed to live independently. As often occurs, there was no real hindsight considered with this decision until it had already generated negative consequences. Tommy’s wife did not work for the Company, and after their marriage continued her job as a secretary for the largest newspaper in the city. It was on a fairly cold morning, while she was walking to begin her shift, that the two ex-lackeys of the Company grabbed her and dragged her out of the sight of the few other passers-by that were on the street that early in the day.

On the days which Tommy was not able to finish his workload in time to be home for dinner (which were fairly plenty), he would just sleep in his office, wake up early, and continue. These were all circumstances which the two ex-lackeys were aware of; though the Company employed plenty people, most of them got their orders from Tommy or one of this brothers and were in and out of the office daily, and knew the movements of the main heads of the Company. They didn’t know exactly on that day that Tommy would work late and stay in the office, but they were willing to take their luck.

Due to the circumstances of their both being employed in highly demanding jobs, and sometimes not being able to wake up together or eat dinner together, Tommy and his wife always spent at least an hour on the phone each day. This usually happened around noon, which left the two wanna-be criminals four hours before Tommy Shelby discovered his wife was missing.

They had, it so happened, taken his suggestion, and sought employment at the loading station at dock forty-three. This particular dock mainly handled night time shipments coming in from the United States or Canada, and so the two decided that with a little duct tape over the face, and ropes holding her arms back, it would be as good a place as any to keep Mrs. Shelby.

—

As it happened, the two men, who were not exactly in possession of god-like intelligence, got the timing right. They had her for four hours before her husband realized something was wrong with her. He called her office at noon, and was received by the voice of her supervisor, who told him his wife had not come into work that day.

At the same moment as Tommy leaned back to yell for his brothers, Polly came into the room and absentmindedly remarked that the postman had left something for him as she dropped a letter onto his desk. Dread built up in his chest as he stared at the sloppily folded paper, and he grabbed hold of the letter and nearly tore it open in his haste. The would-be kidnappers were not elegant nor were they educated, and so their ransom note was not exactly a masterpiece of the English written word.

Tommy Shelby, it read,

We have your wife. Come to dock forty three as soon as you get this. Bring ten thousand pounds with you and you will get her back alive. If you call the police we will know. Don’t bring a gun.

The letter was not signed, and as Tommy’s two eldest brothers crowded their way into the room, the middle Shelby son swore loudly and launched an ink pot against the room, where it shattered against the window and left dark black tracks down the glass.

“Some fuckers took my wife,” he informed them in a violently calm voice. “Get your coats and your guns. We’re going now.”

—

Upon arrival at the specified dock, the faded painting sign reading “43” swinging violently in the sudden gust of wind that had arisen off the waters, Tommy gestured for John and Arthur to stand back.

“I’ll call you when I need you,” he spoke quickly, and indicated for them to stand just out of sight of the door of the loading area, still close enough by to be of immediate assistance if needed.

Tommy grabbed the handle of the door and launched it open, bursting into the large, open room with his gun pointed straight ahead. At the same time as he gained his bearings, he heard a pistol cocking, and found he was looking at a gun pressed to the side of his wife’s head.

Tommy had been in the war, and had seen more men die than he ever cared to speak about. He was used to carnage, and hadn’t flinched at the sight of blood in years. At the sight of his wife with a gun pressed to her head, however, his own blood ran cold.

He felt his breath coming in shorter and shorter intervals, and he had to control himself to keep from hyperventilating, as his wife, a gag stuffed in her mouth, started crying at the sight of him, and leaning towards him as if to beg him to get her out of here,only to be grabbed roughly by the neck and shoved back into her chair by another man, who stepped out of the corner only for that brief moment before vanishing from Tommy’s sight again.

Tommy stopped short, only about four feet from the door he had burst from, and was so dazed by the sight before him he had to force himself to focus as the man holding the gun began to speak.

“We told you specifically not to bring a gun. Didn’t you read the fucking letter? Put that shit down. Where’s my money?”

Tommy still found himself unable to fully compute the situation before him, and so fell back on his usual bravado, scoffing at the man’s question even while wildly searching for a plan.

“I didn’t bring your ten thousand pounds. What were you going to spend it on, whores and cocaine? You’re a piece of shit. You’re going to give me my wife back and you’re going to apologize for the trouble you’ve caused the Shelby Company.”

Another man stepped out of the shadows, loudly swearing at Tommy, and he couldn’t believe the sense of these two useless criminals as they both started walking towards him, leaving his wife unguarded and making it far too easy for him to raise his gun once again and expel a hail of bullets on them, aiming for the head and then adding ten more in just for good measure and as repayment for the insolence of daring to touch his wife.

As he turned to face her, still bound to her chair, tears rolling down her cheeks, he felt his heart stop again as he sprinted to her, pulling the gag out of her mouth and untying the ropes from her wrists all while speaking to her frantically, begging for forgiveness.

“I’m so damn sorry, my love, I should never have let you walk around alone, I should have had a man with you all the time, I should have known someone was going to try something with you, I’m so fucking sorry-“ and broke himself off with a sob, curling into her shoulder.

He felt her take a deep breath and wrap her arms around him, stroking his back as he cried like a child into her arms, terrified by the ease at which two bumbling idiots were able to endanger the person closest to his heart.

She began to console him quietly, his sobs still echoing around the empty room, and Tommy could almost feel her grow harder, more tough, more like a Shelby.

[yokohamasonebraincell]

a detailed analysis of why akutagawa is best boy

aka i love my son more than life

my last post was really sloppily written because i was emotional but now i’ve put my thoughts together in a more cohesive way so here we go:

first, the most important thing to understand is every time he says people have no value unless they kill/use their ability to the utmost, he means himself as well. 

he does not see himself as a person. he sees himself as a tool. a dog. he literally says as much, more than once. people have always seen him as a dog even as a child. his lack of emotions (probably due to having no real way to deal with the trauma.... because he was a child) earned him a lot of fear. canon backstory states the adults around beat him until he couldn’t stand multiple times.

then he sees his friends killed. he feels hate for the first time. feels anything for the first. dazai, as a gift, kills the men who killed the kids akutagawa promised to protect. 

his entire existence has been pain, rage, and killing at this point. 

so is anyone surprised that he just can’t fucking see another way to be? that even with dazai trying to get him to use his ability in a different way, he doesn’t get it? because i will say that dazai meant well but his methods probably only fueled akutagawa’s beliefs that if you’re not strong, you have no value. it doesn’t make sense to us on the outside but it does to him.

that’s his mental state. that’s his belief and his opinion of himself. 

now, we see him treat atsushi and kyouka in the same way. 

he hates atsushi for being weak, for begging other people to give his life meaning. except! when atsushi says ‘don’t you see that people can only live if someone says it’s okay for them to?’ the running mental dialogue that akutagawa has is ‘of course i do’. because he’s hinged his entire existence on dazai seeing value in him. (the second emotion akutagawa ever felt in his life, in canon, is respect for dazai.)

hypocritical? absolutely. 

but he hates atsushi for the same things he’s done and felt so what does that tell us about how he feels about himself?

mmmhmmm.

hawthorne talks about humiliation and defeat. akutagawa says both of those have been his constant companions.

he says he hates atsushi because well....

atsushi has everything he wants. of course he hates him.

but that doesn’t stop akutagawa from pausing his attack when fitzgerald reveals the abuse that atsushi suffered. until that moment, he’s been solely focused on trying to attack tiger boy and then he just stops. he removes both of them from line of fitzgerald’s attacks and delivers the above speech. 

which, it’s not fair of him to want atsushi to just shake away all that abuse (and he knows it because he hasn’t either). but then...

this is exactly what atsushi needs to hear. yes, he calls him foolish, but it’s still what atsushi needed to hear. in the next few panels, we see tiger boy come to terms with this and shed that burden away. none of this was necessary. akutagawa didn’t need to encourage him in that weird, cold way he does but he still does it, whether he realizes it or not. (he does. i’ll get to that in a moment.)

let’s go to kyouka now. 

akutagawa says she has no value unless she’s killing, mirroring his personal opinion of himself. he tries to kill her, saying she’s worthless now that she’s taken up atsushi’s beliefs, wanting to live in the light. he thinks it’s foolish and hopeless. 

afterall, dazai pulled him out of the slums and look where he is now. in the mafia, the only place he feels like someone like him could be useful. so that’s the line he gives kyouka. he absolutely believes it. 

and the fact that he uses personal examples tells you all you need to know about his self-worth and how he views himself. like i said at the beginning, he’s a tool. a dog. when he says that weak people have no right to live, that they need to die to make way for those stronger, he’s including himself in that. 

it’s why he fights so desperately to be strong and to prove his worth to dazai. does he understand he doesn’t need to? no. it’s completely ingrained him.

but here’s the thing.

he says all this to kyouka. he believes it. akutagawa believes this with every fiber of his body, to the point that he drives himself into fights where he’s injured or knows he’s pushing himself too much, considering that he’s chronically ill. 

and yet when he meets back up with kyouka in cannibalism....

he tells her how he didn’t (doesn’t, absolutely doesn’t even if that’s not what he says) value his own life. he ran barefoot, after being beaten half to death, to avenge the kids that were murdered despite knowing he would die. akutagawa has run towards death before. he still does, we know this. and now kyouka knows it too.

he tells her that he’s been in her position before.

that once, his life was given value. 

at this moment, there’s no reason for him to say any of this to her. too much is at stake for both sides. they have to defeat each other, to save the leader of their respective organizations. but he tells her this anyway. 

and then.....

he’s glad for her.

it’s genuine. 

we know this because despite all the terrible things akutagawa has done, one of the few things we’ve never seen him do is lie about how he feels. those feelings might sometimes be hypocritical, sure, but he’s honest with them.

he leaves her. he doesn’t continue the fight. just like how he stopped when he learned of atsushi’s past abuse, he stops now when he realizes kyouka has found meaning, found a reason to live. (and ironically, that reason hinges on her being successful in her mission at the moment so... is he giving her a pass here? maybe.)

so what we know is this: 

he views himself as less of a person and more of a thing/dog to be used and given value

he hates tiger boy for many of the same things he has done or felt. he hates him because he managed to gain the one thing that akutagawa wants more than anything, the thing that his worth hangs on.

that a lot of the time, when he lashes out about things, those things mirror who he is or what he’s done. he not only thinks people need value, he doesn’t really believe he has much value himself. 

despite everything, though, he manages to be glad for kyouka. he tells atsushi the things he needs to hear. i said whether he realizes it or not but i believe he does. he knows the emotional impact of words. he knows it so fucking well. this kid is basically killing himself just to hear a few words of praise from the man he admires. 

akutagawa absolutely knows the importance of it. is it because he admires and respects dazai and so is trying to mirror what he wishes dazai would say to him? i don’t know but i think that it probably starts there, at least.

akutagawa is cold. he’s a ruthless killer. he truly believes that’s the only thing of value he offers.

and yet, in his weird, fucked up way, he tells the other two people most closely in a situation like his exactly what they need to hear. 

the saddest part of it all, is he can’t seem to do the same for himself. he can’t let go of his past like he tells atsushi to. he still believes that he is that person from back then. he sees kyouka escape her life of killing, sees her step into the light, and is happy for her but never once imagines he could do the same.

the trauma is too deep, the sense of self worth too fucked up, for him to see it even as he helps others see it. 

he’s not a good person. 

but in a story that’s a big part about redemption, he could be.