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theawkwardterrier · 2 years ago

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Bake On: A Jamie/Claire Wednesday100 story

Week 1: Cake

Jamie gets his signature - Mam's snow cake - into the oven before he takes a moment to truly size up the competition.

There's the usual crop of grannies and older gents and young mum types, a smarmy-looking middle-aged man Jamie instantly dislikes, a willowy girl he smiles at because she's trembling with nerves, a hulking, wildly bearded lad with an accent Jamie can't place (Welsh?), and then, down in the front corner, far from his back row...

He watches her for so long that he has to rely on the technical and showstopper to make up for his overdone cake.

Week 2: Biscuits

There were many things that Claire considered before entering the competition: that her self-taught skills wouldn't hold up, that she didn't have the sorts of stories and traditions needed for the signatures, that she wouldn't be able to balance it all with her usual work schedule.

She hadn't thought that she'd need to remind herself to focus each time her ears detected a Scottish accent at the back of the tent, or that, after her Kingston biscuits came first in the technical, she'd think about his grin and the light touch of his foot against hers the entire drive home.

Week 3: Bread

"The best simit I've had was off splintery carts pushed by old men who would have considered you mad for criticizing the sesame seeds' evenness."

Jamie looks up from messaging Jenny to find Claire beside him. He'd been trying to stop reexamining his near elimination today. Now he smiles without thought.

"Well, Sassenach, I'll be back next week. That's what matters."

"I suppose that's true." She smiles back, cheeks rosy and rounded, before adding, "You're taking the train, aren't you? I can drive you to the station."

It's an easy walk. The choice to ride with her is even easier.

Week 4: Pie

"Will London surgeon Claire's use of herbs finally win her the title of star baker?"

Her held breath becomes a laugh. She sets down the knife she had been using to carve her pastry top, looking over to him leaning on her bench.

"It might, especially if freelance translator Jamie doesn't get back and give her some competition."

He flashes a grin. "Canna have that. My case is done cooling besides."

She watches him walk away, then resumes, her hands steadier now. She wonders whether he could have possibly noticed her doubts from the back. No, she decides. A coincidence.

Week 5: Pastry

He doesn't notice how long they've been talking until Claire shivers in the midnight chill. It seemingly doesn't register with her - she simply crosses her arms and continues speaking about her patients - but he wants to tuck her against himself, offering his warmth.

Her expression is vivid, and he hates cutting her off (although he'd have hated interrupting her while discussing their fellow contestants, London versus Edinburgh, or today's lunchtime sandwiches). Still, he checks his watch, yawns, says, "Christ, it's that late? We'd better get in if we want to be awake for the showstopper," and sees her safely sheltered.

Week 6: Chocolate

It's meltingly hot in the tent, and everyone's rushing about. Claire's behind on her own bake, and so nearly doesn't notice the cheesecake sitting out at the edge of one of the vacant benches, matching the description Jamie gave of the one he was planning while they'd baked together over the phone this week. Her eyes narrow, and she looks around.

Frank looks back, then immediately glances away.

She places Jamie's cake back into the refrigerator. There isn't time for revenge now, but they can plan together later.

In the meantime, beating Frank will be sweet in its own way.

Week 7: Puddings

"Didna ken this would be the week where I'd remember them so much," Jamie says that night, knowing that she hears him despite his quiet words.

He supposes he should feel embarrassed, tearing up over a batch of clootie dumplings, but he remembers Mam helping him tie the cloth, remembers Da ruffling his hair and Willie saying with his mouth full, "They're good, Jamie!"

And Claire doesn't make him feel foolish, simply places her hand over his, saying, "I don't think there's a wrong time to remember the people you love," so he doesn't feel alone there in the dark.

Week 8: Tarts

She's smiling with satisfaction for the first bit of the drive, star baker title finally achieved and her place in the semi-final assured. It's only as she's shaking her head for her own foolishness at wanting to call Jamie to celebrate when she's barely left him (and knows that he had work to take care of on the train ride home besides) that she realizes what this means.

They've both shown their skill and she's confident in their chances of making it through next week. But even so, even if they get into the finale together, their weekends are numbered.

Week 9: Patisserie

The tension in Jamie's shoulders has nothing to do with two days fussing with choux pastry, or the pressure of next week's final, and everything to do with the countable hours he has left with Claire.

They stand talking in the car park long after the others have packed up and left, after he's missed his train, and he wonders if she might feel the same. Regardless, more time with her doesn't seem like a chance he can miss.

At the next pause, he breathes and asks, "Might ye—Will ye come have dinner with me, Claire?" and watches her smile.

Week 10: Final

The contestants carry their showstoppers to the waiting crowd of loved ones. In classic British fashion, the finale fete is chill and rainy; the camera catches Claire carefully keeping her hair out of her icing.

"Christ, I'd forgotten what the damp did to that curlywig o' yers."

Claire elbows him from her spot beneath his arm, although she is laughing along. "Hush and watch. We're about to lose in front of the entire country, after all."

"True enough. Still, I think we won more than that cake stand o' Glenna's," he says.

By the way she kisses him, she agrees.

#Wednesday100 #Outlander #Jamie Fraser #Claire Fraser #Jamie/Claire #cheating a little but each part is its own drabble 🤷‍♀️

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rhettabbotts · 2 years ago

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okay because it’s been horny hours in my head for some reason: imagine rhett coming home from a long out of state or town rodeo and by the time he gets home it’s pretty much the morning and he thinks your still asleep but surprise you’re already up and awake because you couldn’t wait because he smelt breakfast cooking but as soon as he enters your kitchen he sees you in his favorite lingerie wearing one of his flannels and his stetson that he keeps an extra pair of and as you turn around giving him a full view of what your wearing he’s already hard, walking over, turning the stove off and picking you up to take you back to your bedroom and you’re not going to be leaving it all day

Rhett’s chest ached when he pulled up the gravel driveway to your home. The sun was rising above the mountains, reflecting hues of pink and dusty orange off the siding of the house. His bones creaked and his neck twinged in pain as he cracked it. He saw the light shining through the kitchen window and he couldn’t deny the fact that his dick twitched. He had missed you, only gone a few days, but it was too long. His fingertips itched to feel your skin beneath them.

As he walked through the door, the smell of fresh biscuits and homemade gravy filled his nostrils. He was nearly knocked to the floor at the sight before him. There you stood in the low light of the kitchen stirring the milk and flour. His red and black flannel - your favorite - hung off your shoulder in such an enticing way. You heard his heavy footsteps come up behind you and you melted into his embrace.

“I ought to leave more often if that means I can come home to this,” his raspy voice whispered in your ear. Rhett placed kisses along your neck, looking down the front of the shirt to see a peek of the lacy material of his favorite lingerie set. The black and red one that matched the colors of his flannel perfectly, roses embroidered on the bralette.

“Don’t say that. I can’t live without you.” You pressed back into his chest, enjoying the warmth his body always seemed to provide. You turned the gravy down and moved it off the stove eye before turning to face him. His stubble had grown out, less scratchy than it was before he left.

“Missed you too much.”

He pressed your lips together in a searing kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth in just mere seconds. He tasted like cigarettes and his cinnamon gum with a hint of coffee and it made your head spin.

“Bedroom.”

“But, breakfast…”

“I don’t give a damn, need my pretty little wife now.”

Needless to say, you spent the majority of the day in the comfort of your bed. The biscuits and gravy could always be heated up.

#EEEKKKKK #asks #anon #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott drabble

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spectatingwitchowl · 1 year ago

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note: do not repost this image. if you find this on someone else's profile, just comment my username on their post (dandelione01whatever on tumblr and dandelione._01 on instagram). no need for further arguments. just do the right thing.

꒰⁠ Deity's Evening Canvas ꒱

Fine, white snow showers the town under the full moon's magnificent light and instantly transforms it into a winter wonderland. The evening was a masterpiece carved from a deity's canvas, glazed with the brightest of auroras they have ever laid their eyes upon.

This was the perfect timing. Every area seemed to magically turn into a fairy's playground, plain pine trees now dusted with grace from above. Waters turn into the shiniest of crystals, decorating the world in all forms. It was all inviting. But perhaps the most breathtaking site of all was a lake near a cozy cabin. He instantly knew what to show her— what gift her eyes will receive that will fill her with delight— the simplest yet the best form of magic.

"Cookie!" He waves both his arms, almost flailing from enthusiasm. "I gotta show you something very quick! Follow me!"

She walks down the steps, reluctant about where he would be travelling to. "Where do you think you're going this time? Who knows what's out there that could potentially put us in danger?"

"I know this place! I've been here! People come here every so often and return safely!" He ran towards her and took her hand, brushing his warm palms against hers.

"Trust me. I've studied about this place days prior."

Cookie nods, still with a hint of hesitation. She remained cautious as they delve into the woods, following a path dusted white. Biscuit was someone she could trust. He had never let her down, and deeply apologizes whenever he felt like he wronged her. She adored the idea of having a friend so trustworthy and gentle, giving each other their needs and being there for one another. They were inseparable. Him alone was enough to quickly reassure her on wherever they were going while still remaining a watchful eye. A treasure of a friend like him shouldn't be harmed. Not in the most secluded of places. Not in this—

A frozen lake shining against the parade of lights in the night sky, poles on the opposite sides of a beige brick path with hanging amber lights inviting them towards a set of wooden chairs and tables, decorated with a matching light yellow table cloth. It was a warm sight to behold— a man-made contrast of ornaments to the natural artwork in the background. She couldn't think of words to perfectly fit the description of beauty that this area holds.

"Wow." This was the only word she muttered out of her slightly open mouth. Her wide, glimmering eyes spoke of the rest of her thoughts. It wandered through every detail like an art inspector, or in the similar manner of a musician with his eyes closed, focusing his heart and soul on the orchestra's heavenly chords and perfect harmonies that enter his ears. In this case however, it was converted into an enchanting imagery.

"See? I knew you you'd love it here!" He gestures toward a seat, wiping off a layer of snow. "How about we take a moment of silence here, yeah?"

The two of them spent the rest of the time under the moonlight, the stars, and the auroras that came along while they still can, knowing that a perfect evening like this was a rare occurrence. Cookie eventually leaves her worries behind, making room for admiration.

There were nothing to be afraid of in this world that paints art in every form possible, highlighting the beauty that emits emotion to every living being. Giving shadows to the ones being shined upon, creating a harmonious canvas, yet full of contrasts— revealing the true nature of things in a captivating manner.

She gave a gentle smile to Biscuit, who was too busy pointing at the places he found as beautiful as hers. She was glad to know that it wasn't just her who thoroughly cherished this evening of magic as he described perfectly.

~~~~~~~~~~

An introduction to another two of my set of OCs (That makes it 4/6), Cookie and Biscuit. Again, these are aliases and the same thing goes for the next two that I will be introducing next. Additional information if anybody is curious; Cookie's hair is light lavender and Biscuit's is peach with a more orange tone to it. Satsuu has light brown and Cupcake has light pink.

~~~~~~~~~~

#dandelion01whateverart #dandelion01whatevercinnamonsprinkledstories #original character #SHIP ART⁉️⁉️#HOLDING HANDS⁉️⁉️⁉️#this is what you get when i hear a song that goes so hard and pierces through my heart that it triggers a plethora of scenarios in my head #god knows what i would write with d4vd's here with me as writing inspo #here goes my giant ego doing its job in the tags #my sincerest apologies #i ❤️ rambling #Spotify

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theangrypokemaniac · 1 year ago

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Part Two

Best enjoyed with a cup of tea and some biscuits.

What I've explained so far is merely the intellectual portion of my hatred.

I don't think it's too much to ask for something to make sense and respect the history and laws of its own universe.

I haven't even started talking about my emotional reaction, which is somehow even more volcanic.

Little T.A.P. had what's known euphemistically as 'the artistic temperament' (nutter) and as such, was the most hardline, take-no-prisoners Rocketshipping extremist you'd ever have the misfortune to meet.

Worse than everyone on Tumblr, combined.

If anyone reading this considers themselves an obsessive, then no, mate, you're not.

You ain't seen nothing compared to my psychotic prime.

Glorious, it was.

I, but a simple, unassuming child, had a clear vision in life:

I will kill anyone who comes between you.

And I wasn't one o' these wishy-washy 'Oh there's nothing there now but it has potential' dishcloths, I was the Real Deal.

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! IT IS UNSPEAKABLY BEAUTIFUL TRUE LOVE OF MYTH AND POETS AND SONGS AND DREAMS!!!!!!

As far as I was concerned, it deserved to ranked alongside the great romances of history and legend.

• Romeo and Juliet

• Lancelot and Guinevere

• Anthony and Cleopatra

• Tristan and Isolde

• Victoria and Albert

• Orpheus and Eurydice

• Nicholas and Alexandra

• Hero and Leander

• Heloise and Abelard

• Pyramus and Thisbe

But, you know, without the death.

Besides which, I had no internet, and no friends who liked Pokémon, so I sincerely believed I was the only Rocketshipper in the world, and felt it more intensely on top of the rest as compensation.

And if you watch the early Indigo League in the view that Jessie and James aren't just destined to be in the future, but a fully-fledged, when-can-we-be-married legitimate couple, but it's never mentioned much because it's not relevant to the main story of Ash's quest, then it bloody works!

Suddenly you start thinking that maybe they want that one big heist so badly so they have enough to retire on and set up home together.

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

See talking about brings it all the bastard memories back and how they all died and led to nothing and now I want to sit in the corner and cry for the love that never lived.

Imagine me, in such a state, watching this utter abomination, matching Jessie with a man, and it's not James, and thinking I would ever take it well.

I don't understand how anyone could.

The best (THE BEST!) explanation I have is that these writers, now needing to string it out until the final moments of Johto, realized they'd taken the romance too far and wanted to hold back, but did it in the most cack-handed, clod-hopping fashion, undermining it so the whole ship collapsed about their ears, from which it's never really recovered.

This team, after all, thought Tracey was a good idea, so how much could we ever expect?

I'm not saying it died that day, as I still found things (the second film, by Shudo), but this was the first inkling I got that, well maybe it won't end happily after all.

And that hurt.

I should've seen it in Bad to the Bone, but this decision made the uneven writing far too plain, so how could I ever put my faith in it all turning out alright, if it's so dependent on an individual writer's whims?

What if the last-ever-episode was written by the wrong person, and it was left to his decision?

I dunno. Maybe the success of Pokémon went to their heads and drove 'em doolally, thinking they could coast serving up any old tripe.

Or they never wanted Rocketshipping to be so big, and deliberately set about a sabotage to put people off.

After all, the dearth of shipping content come Hoenn, the first region after Shudo left, can't really be explained otherwise.

And everything beyond that is the most paltry, blink-and-you'll-miss-it table scraps, like Jessie touches James back for half a second and the fandom flies out of its mind about it because they're so deprived of proper nourishment.

Then the supposed big stuff always comes with a catch that yet again chips away at their formerly established personalities, giving with one hand but robbing with the other.

I once heard someone defend XY063 (AND DON'T START ME ON THAT!!!) with talk of how:

For something shippy to happen, something anti-shippy needs to happen first.

We can't take one step forward before we've took a step back, so nothing ever moves.

In the present anyway. The canon gets ripped to ribbons.

Well who says it should?

'Cause I don't remember any price paid in the golden age of Rocketshipping. Back then it was just allowed to happen.

So what changed?

It can't only be they cut down on the romance to give it greater appeal to children, thus turning a bigger profit, as what do they think we were?

But here is where you start to see the almost brainless willingness to ignore all that's gone before.

Anything to keep it going, eh?

The entire reason Jessie and James was special is because it's two kids adrift from the worlds they were born into where no one understood them...until they met.

You go by the original canon, and it's them chancing upon their soulmate, realizing it, and never parting from that day.

They was only ever going to be the other in their lives, and they knew, and IT WAS SO BLOODY BEAUTIFUL!!!

The idea there's one person for everyone is the magic material woven into all the highest dreams of humanity, and it made Little T.A.P.'s tender heart sing hosannahs to its holiness.

Oh, but yer can forget that now, 'cause it's all gone to shit.

Turns out Jessie DID have one of them connections (honest!), but it was some other random knobhead named Darren who sniffs glue round the back of Netto.

Oh-ho, I bet Keats, Byron and Shelley are dusting off their immortal quills as we speak, keen as mustard to commit these wholesome snippets to paranormal paper.

Get this: she, apparently, knew Darren practically from the maternity ward, and spent her whole life with him, which is longer than her own parents lasted (supposing that bit of her past stayed the same, and I'm not sure it did, but anyway) meaning he's the biggest relationship of any kind she ever had, the one constant source of emotional support and companionship throughout her younger years, twinned with her as no one else ever could be (PFFT!!!) but he's never been bloody mentioned before!

And he's never seen again!

And he's got No Fookin' Eyes!

He's SO important, but he also doesn't matter at all, as them writers don't care no more.

James not only isn't The One, he ain't even The Two after Osstin got invented, and The Three is Darren part two, for Jessie's slummin' it for sloppy seconds.

James is well down the rankings of First Ever Love Evah in the modern configuration, which is nice.

And they just keep twisting the knife!

Pokémon Tech. is a school for Trainers, so first-year pupils must be at least ten, therefore I surmised that's how old Jessie and James were at their fateful encounter.

BUT she's evidently younger than ten here, so not only have they killed off her joint history with him, they've gotta mock it too by making out it couldn't even come close to the depth of dependency she had on ding-dong-merrily-on-high Daz, since they go way back!

As I said, Jessie's established past is oblitered by this scene, but so too is James's, and now he didn't abscond from school to join a bike gang, and I don't know where he comes from either because Holy Matrimony! is out too.

If I'm generous however, and overlook that, presuming the 'rich kid' theme still applies, there's no telling why, when or how he ran away, but I'll guess he was ten when he did, for that's the traditional age of majority here.

As the Training Daze version of events now takes precedent with everyone who isn't me, and those lauding it want to hammer yer into submission about how Duh Twenny Fyve, this makes a fifteen-year gap from James leaving home to swanning up at HQ, which is just an enormous black hole of cold emptiness.

Has there ever (EVER) been an episode dealing with what happened to him then, who he met, what jobs he had, how he survived?

NO!

With Indigo canon binned (apart from the following, apparently, which is convenient), I'm supposed to accept that James, who wasn't just a small boy, but a preened, pampered only child and precious son and heir, fêted and catered to by a household full of servants, with no life skills or survival instincts to speak of, somehow scraped by on the streets on his own FOR FIFTEEN YEARS, with no Jessie to take care of him, or Chopper, or Tyra, or any kindly biker?

As if! He'd have been dead within hours!

Of course, he caught no Pokémon during this period either (being most of his life) and consequently had no form of self-defence to hand, but this colossal plot hole doesn't seem to trouble anyone.

Who knows, maybe in this timeline he stayed home until the night before Giovanni snapped him up, which I suppose makes Jessibelle his own personal Darren in significance.

Except people never mind if, by default, every new Jessie backstory comes replete with endless gobshite wasters queueing up to give her Forgotten Major Trauma, but if James has another woman, and it's Jessibelle, there's hell to pay.

Well no wonder she's miffed, staying with him for decades only to watch him walk out the door as soon as she slipped on the veil.

I reckon it's only the good humour of Vileplume that keeps her from tipping into full Miss Havisham mode.

Whilst I'm at it, the art style of Training Daze is a bit...off, and doesn't resemble the rest of Hoenn.

I suspect it's an imitation of how they looked in their earliest scenes, in fact the above screenshot is suspiciously like this one, even if they haven't bothered fixing the colours.

See? They can draw better. They just won't.

My theory is the crew knew retconning the past was playing with fire, so deliberately designed 'em as close as they could to early Kanto, thereby easing fans into accepting it, as if now it's obvious Indigo Jessie and James really went through the prequel, and were originally invented with this past in mind.

Yeah. Not that it makes sense, for if the Kanto style was that important to anyone they'd still be going by its canon backstories come what may, and certainly wouldn't have rolled over blithely accepting the mushed-up faces on 'em recently, but then, who really cares about coherent thinking?

It's so overrated.

And I can't deny it worked. People tie themselves in all sorts of weird knots insisting Training Daze ackshully does fit with canon...if you just shut up and stop noticing.

Once that got through, in their view we'd swallow anything, so why even try making it match?

Who is this supposed to be, man? 'Cause it don't resemble any Jess I remember.

If this picture had gone round labelled as 'Young Nurse Joy' before Sinnoh, no one would've doubted it.

What's wrong with yer bloody eyes, love? They ain't even the right shape!

How can I believe a backstory that happened to someone else?

Now I, being a calm, mild-mannered sort of soul, don't ask for much in life.

But he should die.

Incidentally, years after the fact I skimmed a Cori Falls story where Darren knocked Jessie about, and although I would never once suggest that happened (but it did) I can't say I have a single ounce of sympathy for him.

I mean, if he didn't want that sort of representation, he shouldn't have bloody turned up.

Please understand, I haven't relentlessly insulted him merely from a shipping perspective (die), but also with a fine artistic sensibility.

Firstly, he has No Bloody Eyes, which, logically, constitutes some sort of Shadow Dæmon, but more importantly, and much worse, is the brown hair.

Brown hair.

You're in an anime, and yer got brown hair.

...

YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOUR IN THE WORLD AND YER PICK BROWN???!!!

Even worse ('cause it's personal now), it ain't even arranged in some ker-razy spiky display as compensation.

Oh no. He's too good for that. Instead Darren's got his barnet all nice and smooth, like a human haircut.

...

See what I'm saying?

He comes swaggering in here, throwing his weight around and upsetting everyone, and hasn't even got the decency to look the part.

Not even an inch of sideburns on this oaf.

I wouldn't mind nearly so much if we were dealing with some ultra-cool world-class titan, the sort of shining star suited to front any other anime, where you could understand Jess taking an interest, but I am not putting up with sticking this bog-standard, penny-pinching tow-rope, with his all-over even wood finish and cow lick, into her past without so much as a by-your-leave, and thereby casting aspersions on her character.

Just consider the insult:

You're telling me Jess has gone from bagging herself James, who's not only young, good-looking, carrying the classic anime style, AND actually matters in the grand scheme with a massive fan following, because he's well-designed and interesting enough to pull a crowd (plus, let's not forget, HE'S FOOKIN' LOADED, MAN!!!) to settling (and come on, it's settling) for eyeless, bland background filler, who wouldn't even pass muster as a one-time guest character?

Yer can piss off!

Indigo Jess had some flamin' standards and wasn't gonna compromise 'em, but Orange Jess apparently has no taste whatsoever, and is just bloody grateful when any old slobbering air thief shows interest.

And I'm not 'avin it!

See that's why she's on the floor. He hit 'er.

All I said about Darren being Jessie's main source of stability also applies in reverse, as she is that to him.

And still he effed off.

Arsehole. Complete arsehole.

What a classy moral-of-the-story routine this was for the romantically-inclined Little T.A.P.

'Used t'be Jessie crossed paths with her everlasting soulmate (James) and stuck it out through thick and thin.

Message: True love is real, kids!

Together forever!

No matter how long!

From now until the end of time!

Now? Oh yeah, she had a thing once, and thought it was the proper stuff, but...meh.

'Cause even after years together you just can't trust 'em not to leave.

Message: Never feel secure!

Not for one second!

You don't know what he's plotting!

Oh, kill the dream, why don't yer?

Let's not aim for something higher anymore, trying to convey the soaring ideals of love, so that, despite their misery and poverty, Jessie and James have a little beauty to cling on to through the darkness.

Nah, mate, kick 'em when they're down!

Thus Darren departs continuity, oversized coat and guide dog in hand, as Orange Jess sinks to her knees, pleading for his return.

Have some bloody self-respect, Jess!

You're so invested in a walking Cuprinol advert you're actually begging him not to go?

You like minimum-effort mediocrity THAT much?

And you're STILL sorry it didn't last?!

Fuxake, woman!

For if I accept it, I think less of her.

There once was a time when our Jess pictured herself as an earthbound goddess served devotedly by adoring slave boys.

Ooooh. Some of them lads have brown hair.

They've all got curtains, perms and mullets, man!

That's the default setting of anime!

Being mere fantasy figures, they don't really exist in this universe, and thus I'm cutting 'em some slack, given this whimsy never buggered up canon.

They know their place.

But watching her debase herself like this, crawling across the scratchy nylon carpet, clutching at the tan polyester seams of Darren's best waterproof ensemble, really got my goat, as that ain't the Jess I loved and idolised.

Old Indigo Jess wouldn't have stood for any of that nonsense, as her lovely little speech in The Ghost of Maiden's Peak makes plain.

Oooh, but she's just trying to save face because of what she did in the past.

A. You're only saying that in hindsight, wanting to believe Pokémon has a solid continuity where both Barren Darren and Austin Powers fit, even when it's impossible.

B. Where's the evidence for this in original canon?

C. There's nothing wrong with learning from others' mistakes instead of going there yourself.

D. Orange Jess evidently doesn't regret it, what with telling us all about sinking so low she's hankered after Spirits From The Nether Realm, and giving it good woe-is-me in the aftermath.

Back in the first series, all the fellas Jessie wanted waiting upon her had James's lean physique, with the majority sporting some variation on his hair colour.

Is it really just a coincidence that since then, none of her supposed beaus look remotely like him?

Each one has either brown or dark grey hair, making 'em as boring as possible:

• Darren

• Aston Villa

• Dr. Shite

• Speccy in the Lucario film.

• Him from Mewtwo Returns, whatever his name is, the sub says Penicillin.

So the art department's going out of its way to tell us:

1. James is NOT Jessie's type.

2. She has really low standards, yet he STILL doesn't meet 'em.

Now Darren doesn't really matter too much, since everyone else who hasn't been nursing a grudge for two decades forgets him.

Even I don't care until he comes up in screen shots.

Osstin however is the real shithouse.

He gets an entire bloody episode nurturing his canon balls.

See here's where the slippery slope knocks yer down:

• Make Team Rocket look Indigo for Training Daze.

Once accepted, don't bother letting Jess resemble herself in Crossing Paths!

• Introduce other men in a minor flashback.

Now the past is broken, have whole episodes pissing on its memory.

And how the quality has sunk in the meantime.

Darren, whilst a massive step down from James, is at least reasonably masculine, and probably as attractive as shape-shifters get.

Osstin meanwhile...

I'm gonna ignore the brown barnet, being a tangle of jagged edges, evidently over-compensating for what lies beneath.

'Cause he is ugly, man.

Jessie's tastes have degraded so badly they've slipped into the perverse, juvenile blood throbbing at the sight of a squeaky, short-arsed four-eyes barely bigger than herself.

Why, God? Why do you curse me?

James was a wealthy effeminate fop, in his day, Darren was a normal, middle-of-the-road incubus, in his day, both of which are a sight load better than whatever this is supposed to be.

You want me to believe Jessie's gone from either of them to a squinting, emasculated and vertically challenged dweeb, fogging up at the mere sniff of Reddit and SY-UNCE, and truly hideous to behold?

She left Darren for him, did she?

Takin' liberties here!

Remember it, tho?

Back when she was taking expensive dance classes in an unspecified region paid for by her indulgent moneybags parents with those familiar best friends of hers?

You know, that pair we keep seeing on the road.

Never not on our screens, are they?

I'm sick of hearing about 'em.

It's always Jessie getting dumped, you notice. Never her kicking the useless sod to the kerb, realizing she can do better.

Nope. Only James is low enough for that.

But do they really expect me to still love and admire Jessie, look up to her even, as I once did, when now I'm told she's so pathetic even nerds don't want her?

Bastards!

Oh, you're sorry this didn't work out, are yer Jess?

You're crying because you didn't marry the gormless incel and birth a dozen bi-focal babies?

Just look at yerself, girl!

Worse, Darren left her when they were reasonably grown-up, about the age she was in the Orange League, meaning if it happened (which it didn't) it had to be not long before Kanto began, so I might understand her still being upset over a man she'd known since childhood, supposing I did believe it.

BUT Osstin buggered off when she was at best, about bloody eleven, and so they had no romance in the first place, yet she's still moaning about The Geck That Got Away well into Sinnoh, meaning she regrets losing him more than Darren!

You're rapidly going down in my estimation, Jess!

Of course, the irony is James morphing into said revolting breed of 'male' in the later eras, so by rights Jessie ought to be on him like a pigeon on Monster Munch.

I marvel at anyone who kept their Rocketshipping hopes up this long, given just how many warning signals the writers put out over the years.

Nothing blatant, obviously. They're not stupid.

Even the quote above quietly kills off any hint of Jessie and James's then-relationship, and as usual with retcons, once said, you're expected to apply them to the past and pretend it was always this way.

No one loves Jess, kids!

And certainly not James!

All that Indigo evidence was just in your head!

There's never a positive reflection of her being glad she met James and Meowth, that these various conflicting pasts led to them, and so it all worked out in the end.

Every time she bemoans a 'lost love', it's a tacit admission she wishes she was anywhere but here, and with anyone but them.

Anyone but James, in truth.

Oh, that's cheered me right up.

How miserable she looks.

If nothing else proves Holy Matrimony! is out of continuity (barring bits of it, when useful), it's that her Orange League whining come after this scene.

And this one.

And this one...

...When she is plainly in a relationship with him.

Jessie's first action after staring into James's eyes for an unnecessarily long period of time is to move closer and wrap her arms about his neck, for one of those entirely platonic embraces, no doubt, both so captivated by the moment they've forgotten Meowth exists.

But it never happened, did it?

They've always been Just Friends, haven't they?

See when I rule the world (it won't be long now), and people ask why I did all them war crimes, I'm gonna point 'em to THIS for setting me off.

The End

#Rocketshipping #Team Rocket #Jessie #James #Jessie and James #Darren #Astin #Orange Islands #Wherefore Art Thou Pokémon?#Hoenn #Training Daze #Sinnoh #Crossing Paths!#Kanto #Holy Matrimony!#GIFS

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mellowwangxianenthusiast · 2 years ago

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Pocky Challenge

"Omi please" "No Miya." "Omiiiii Omi Omi Omi Omi Omi Omi Omi-" "Absolutely not, it's disgusting" "It's just a biscuit stick!!! Cmon do the challenge with me!! Sayuri said it's our turn to post something on tik tok and the wheel landed on this!"

That was a lie, it actually landed on the next one over which was trust falls, but Omi didn't need to know that, and Atsumu was determined. Well actually Osamu called him a coward since he hadn't told Omi about his crush, and he couldn't allow himself to be called a coward. "Omii please?" Atsumu was giving Sakusa his best puppy dog eyes, not truly expecting it to work so when he finally said yes Atsumu couldn't believe his ears "Fine. Just once, it you mess up filming that's it." "I won't! Okay go sit on the couch I'll set up the phone and pocky"

They were in Sakusa's apartment since it was cleaner, obviously. Atsumu grabbed the pocky from the counter and set his phone on the ringlight in front of the couch setting a one minute timer so they had time to get ready. "Let me do it first."

Atsumu nodded and handed the pack to Omi so he could open it and grab the stick. Once it was in his mouth, the video started recording and Atsumu bit into the other end of the pocky. He didn't think this through, being that close to Omi, seeing how long his eyelashes were, the

Extremely light freckles that speckled his nose. Omi took the first bite forward, Atsumu ignored how warm his face was as he took a bite, moving closer to Omi. It went on like this, Atsumus blush getting darker as Omi looked completely fine. When their lips were inches apart,

Atsumu expected that Omi would pull away and surrender, but it happened so fast he didn't have time to process it. Large warm hands cupped his face, soft lips engulfed his. Atsumus eyes closed automatically but he reciprocated the kiss instantly, his hands gripping Omis shirt. The kiss lasted an eternity, it lasted a millisecond. When they pulled away, Atsumus lips were red, his pupils dialted. A smirk grew on Omis face and he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Atsumus lips "Atsu, come back to me" Of course he knew, of course he knew that

Atsumu's mind was racing a million miles a second, working on convincing himself that it was a dream. When he heard Omi's voice, he was immediately brought back and his eyes lit up, a wide smile growing on his face. "Omi?" Omi nodded at him, stroking his cheek lightly. "Atsu."

They ended up posting the trust fall videos, but the comments were flooded with people pointing out the hickey on Atsumu's neck and the matching one on Sakusa's collarbone when his shirt got pulled low when Atsumu caught him.

#sakusa kiyoomi #Kiyoomi is tired #Atsumu is a lil shit #miya atsumu #msby black jackal #sakuatsu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #getting together #pocky challenge #moving from twitter #sorry for the format

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matthias-the-tulip · 2 years ago

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parts i hope they keep in the red white and royal blue movie: a list.

for @failinginwhatdirection here you go

• "i'm going to throw up on you" at the stables

• "i'd rather be waterboarded" also at the stables

• "i bet he has a secret lovechild," nora says. "or he's gay. or he has a secret gay lovechild." "it's probably in case i see his equerry putting his batteries back in," alex says.

• midnight ice cream on instagram and "i didn't know you wore glasses."

• the awkward fist bump on "this morning"

• "do you mind?" in the cupboard at the hospital

• "you're not the prince of me"

• "i cannot believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are."

• "are you psychoanalysing me? i don't think royal guests are allowed to do that."

• "is that the time you threatened to push me into the thames?"

• "no booty calls."

• "it was like you were trying to set him on fire with your mind."

• "don't let the papers print lies about me after i've garroted myself with my tie."

• "you are the thistle in the tender and sensitive arse crack of my life."

• the whole turkey situation but they really can't get rid of that it's too important - "buy a summer home in majorca with the turkey"

• mr wobbles and jabba cakes please.

• "you're jeff goldblum"

• "I BEG YOU TO NOT"

• "please do not attempt to steal my shine. you will fail and i will be embarrassed for you."

• "christ, you are as thick as it gets."

• alex falling while running with june cause he was thinking about henry

• "still waters, deep dicking.”

• “prince henry is a biscuit,” nora says, “let him sop you up.”

• "you're not going to kill him, are you?" she says. "probably not," alex tells her

• "i mean, er, should we, i dunno, slow down?" henry says, cringing so hard at himself that one eye closes. "go for dinner first, or-"

• "i'm going to die," henry says helplessly. "i'm going to kill you," alex tells him. "yes, you are," henry agrees.

• alex fixing his hair for him

• fucking eyelashes

• the whole polo kit situation. henry slowly putting his foot back on the floor 😂

• "you're a mad, spiteful, unmitigated demon, and i'm going to kiss you until you forget how to talk."

• birthday floggings et al

• i will staple your dick to the inside of your leg

• baby.

• "i miss you," alex says before he can stop himself. he instantly regrets it, but henry says, "i miss you too."

• "i want to... put my fingers in his mouth..." she moans, sounding horrified. (WE NEED JUNE)

• "if only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when american boys with chin dimples are mean to him."

• just the whole karaoke bar situation. plz.

• o captain, my captain

• "when at wimbledon."

• "i want to see a cage match between your grandmother and this fucking ghoul running against my mom"

• "and you are good. most things are awful most of the time, but you're good."

• "he is truly a picture, wearing an expression of bewildered panic and absolutely nothing else."

• all of zahra's little quips - "every time i see you, it takes another year off my life." - "ask me if i'm afraid of the crown."

• SEXUAL EXPERIMENTATION WITH FOREIGN MONARCHS: A GRAY AREA.

• EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY, BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE OF ENGLAND?

• FEDERAL FUNDING, TRAVEL EXPENSES, BOOTY CALLS, AND YOU

• "some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context."

• I GUESS THAT MAKES YOU. THE MF. NORTH STAR.

• a catholic moment

• santa maria is watching

• "philip is the heir and i'm the spare, and if that nervy bastard has a heart attack at thirty-five and i've got malaria, whither the spare?

• alex's meltdown outside kensington. very important. - "how 'bout i just keep yelling and we see which of the papers show up first!" he turns back to the window and starts flailing his arms too. "henry! your royal fucking highness!"

• henry nuzzling his nose behind alex's ear.

• "next time we shall visit some of the george III pieces and see if they burst into flame."

• DANCING TO YOUR SONG IN THE MUSEUM

• "once shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier"

• "i will physically fight your grandmother myself if i have to, okay? and, like, she's old. i know i can take her." "i wouldn't be so cocky," henry says with a small laugh. "she's full of dark surprises."

• "your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing"

• "check the fucking news, you horny little miscreant"

• you're my mean friend

• I 😭 LOVE 😭 HIM 😭 ON 😭 PURPOSE 😭 once again they can't leave that out if they do i'll k!ll someone

• "what are we even defending here, philip? what kind of legacy? what kind of family, that says, we'll take the murder, we'll take the raping and pillaging and the colonizing, we'll scrub it up nice and neat in a museum, but oh no, you're a bloody poof? that's beyond our sense of decorum! i've bloody well had it. i've sat about long enough letting you and gran and the weight of the damned world keep me pinned, and i'm finished. i don't care. you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse, philip. i'm done."

• "for what it's worth," he says to philip, "that is the bravest son of a bitch I've ever met."

• "I've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mum, philip."

• bea pouring the tea on philip's lap

• henry pulls alex close and kisses him, whispers, "i love you i love you i love you."

• never 😭 tell 😭 me 😭 the 😭 odds 😭

• "my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person"

• "listen, you've had your first big sex scandal. no more sitting at the kids' table."

• how to love each other in plain sight

• "holding henry's hand atop his own knee" in the portrait

• "all this fundraising for sobriety is going to drive me to drink."

• "I'm the prince of...here"

• "you spent a month of your gap year talking to yaks in mongolia, h."

• "i know it's a lot, but you give people hope. so, get back out there and be alex."

• the super six

• alex tripping on the magazine with them on the cover

• henry fixing june's hair

#red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #henry fox mountchristen windsor

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wri0thesley · 3 years ago

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I understand if you got too many requests or are not interested but... maybe you'd like to entertain the neko curse situation but reverse the situation? Meaning it's the jjk men who got hit by that curse and turned into nekos! Maybe they tried to protect their s/o and ended up changed themselves but somehow before disappearing the curse left a mark on the s/o and the effects won't be reversed until the mark disappears (so no easy idle transmutation to solve this problem, mahito~)

not sfw, minors dni!

♡ —-> below the cut: gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna, mahito, naoya, choso <—- ♡

♡ Gojo immediately asks you if you think he’s a cute cat; which of course, you do. He’s got fluffy white ears and a majestic fluffy white tail that you desperately want to pet. He immediately, too, knows how to fix the curse - but the way you’re looking at him is so interesting that he can’t pass up a chance to see if you’ll make a move on him like this.

You end up curled up against him, your fingers delicately petting the soft, thick white fur of his ears whilst his eyes go half-lidded and he murmurs something about how he could get used to this. He tells you that he doesn’t think that being a lap cat is such a bad profession, actually, so long as the lap that he gets to sleep in is yours.

- ♡ -

♡ Nanami is not sure how to proceed. He’s rather like a cat already; a solitary, elegant creature who doesn’t trouble himself to exceed more effort than he has to unless the situation calls for it. But actually having the features of a cat is different. He doesn’t like how sensitive his new ears are (especially when he tries to call Gojo). He doesn’t like how his tail fits in his tailored slacks. He works out the mark almost immediately - and then wants to go back to his place so the two of you can discuss breaking the curse, in private, before anyone sees what has happened to him.

He will not want to be intimate whilst he’s the one with the cat ears and tail; he’s too nervous for that. But he will accept gentle strokes, scritches behind the ear, a delicate top-to-tail rub from the back of his neck and onwards until his back arches and he sighs, a rumbling purr emanating from his throat.

- ♡ -

♡ Geto does not want this to have happened. He is a well-mannered, polite curse user who uses his honeyed tones and his way of persuasion to bring people over to his side - and the new ears and tail that he is having to get used to are making people not take him seriously. He’s a very smart man; from the minute it happens, he’s running through all of the curses he has on him that might be able to help him figure out how to help.

Unfortunately, Nanako and Mimiko think that their father figure with cat-like instinct is the cutest thing in the world, and he keeps getting accidentally distracted by toys they throw for him or the stick with a dangling feather they’ve somehow procured. Part of him wants to tell them off; part of him can’t help but smile to see them having fun. If you join in with Nanako and Mimiko, though, Geto’s eyes go very dark and his smirk turns very crooked - and you can bet that, cat ears or no cat ears, Geto will punish you for being so forward later on tonight.

- ♡ -

♡ Toji is grunting and grumbling about the curse, reaching up to scratch at the dark-furred ears protruding from his head. You bite back your cry of how adorable he looks; there’s a scowl on his face that you know is bad news, as his eyes fly over the mark on your wrist and he heaves a world-weary sigh. “Guess we’ve gotta work this one out together, huh?” He asks you, wry smile tugging at scarred lips. “C’mere--”

He pulls you into his lap, his hands massive as he gets you comfortable. He’s like a cat padding into his blankets, making biscuits on the soft meat of his thighs as he presses his chin onto your shoulders and begins to muse aloud about all of the ways that he can think of that he can get the curse to lift.

You can’t help but squirm as he kneads your skin, your ass pressing directly against the bulge in his pants as his breathing gets more ragged - and eventually, you’re pinned down onto the sofa beneath him, his tail flicking, agitated, as he murmurs; “You’ve really got me goin’ now, sweetheart--”

- ♡ -

♡ Sukuna … yes, Sukuna isn’t happy about it. He doesn’t think the King of Curses should be cute. This curse can sense his energy, and there are clearly tiger ears or big cat ears perched on his head, his tail long and thick - but still. He’s mad that he’s been made fun of, he’s mad that the curse has happened, he’s mad that the curse had the nerve to lay its mark on you when you’re his beloved little pet and his property and only he should ever be allowed to. If he can’t break out of it straight away, he’s smart and powerful enough to have formulated a plan before the end of the night.

But Sukuna’s sex drive is as insatiable as the rest of him, and he cannot go one night without burying himself within the tight, warm confines of your body. You will be pinned beneath him by four claws, a gazelle pinned beneath a tiger as he grins down at you aware that he is very much ‘the predator catching his prey’. You will enjoy his method of catching.

- ♡ -

♡ Mahito is very interested in this new development. Honestly, he’s not overtly attached to his ‘human’ form - he uses his idle transfiguration on himself with little thought - and he quite likes the ears and the tail, and he certainly likes the way you look at him and curiously reach out to give him scratches on the sensitive new additions. He’s a little embarrassed by the low vibration that comes from his throat, the purr at being touched - but he’s also a creature interested in new developments and new sensations, and this certainly falls into both of those ball parks. The real problem is when he realises he can no longer use the transmutation to get into his other forms. He needs to be able to do that, for all of his plans - it doesn’t matter if he can still transmute humans, he wants the freedom to do whatever he wants to his own form. Mahito is determined when he sets his mind to it, and the moment he realises the mark on you is somehow connected to his new state, he is not going to rest until the both of you have gotten to the bottom of things.

Yes, he’ll explore how it feels to be petted and have his tail tugged and be collared in bed before you do that, though. Mahito takes every opportunity as one for pleasure, and he finds that even though you’re his little human pet first and foremost, he doesn’t mind if the roles are reversed as long as it’s temporary.

- ♡ -

♡ Naoya absolutely hates this development. He is the goddamn future leader of the Zen’in clan, and nobody is going to take him seriously with a tail sticking out of the waistband of his hakama and a pair of ears that don’t match his hair tufting from his head. He tries very hard to hide them from absolutely everyone, jamming his tail in his clothes and a hat on his head and trying extremely hard not to get distracted by passing shiny lights dancing on the windowpanes. When he figures out it’s something to do with the mark on you, he might blame you for it a little bit - but he insists that if you help him sort out the predicament he’s in, he’ll be lenient on you during your punishment.

As a cat, he’s a hissing, spitting fussy little thing - when the question of intimacy does come up, he’s still willing and wanting to fuck you, but he’s even more animalistic than usual. Nails-come-claws digging into your bare skin, slightly elongated fangs scraping along your soft skin.

- ♡ -

♡ Choso is perplexed by the tail and the ears, hesitantly reaching up to touch them and shooting you awkward looks. He even tries to hide them from you at first, worried you’ll be upset by it - but when you look at them with your lip bitten and gently pet the base of his tail so his back arches, he realises that you’re not disgusted, just . . . interested. They don’t exactly get in his way, but he’s definitely flustered by the way people look at him with new additions. He doesn’t want to draw more attention than necessary to himself. The thing that upsets him most is that the mark is on your body; he wants this to be his own burden to bear, and he hates himself for getting you dragged into it.

He’ll let you touch his new additions hesitantly whilst the two of you are intimate, but he won’t initiate. He gets all awkward and flustered by the petting, surprised by how turned on he is when you coo that he’s such a good kitty for you--

- ♡ -

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #mahito x reader #naoya x reader #choso x reader #jjk posting #not sfw #jjk writing #Anonymous

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minttangerines · 2 years ago

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Smutty.11...TAE

*skitters off for real.*

Elle, this took me so damn long 😂 Also, huge thank you to @bangtanintotheroom and @sunshinerainbowsbts because I'm an idiot.

It's not until the rideshare arrives that you realize you left your food inside of the diner. You try to hop out of the backseat to go back for them, as their intention is to be your breakfast in a couple of hours, but you feel a large hand grab your upper arm.

“No time. We gotta go.”

“My food!”

“Don’t care!”

Taehyung, the host without the most. It was HIS promotion that brought everyone out tonight. It was HIS apartment that you pregamed in. It was HIS decision to leave the bar for the shitty diner that keeps getting shut down every three months for health code violations. It's also HIS call that you all went outside when you did which is why you don’t have your food.

The more you fight against him for the challah French toast, the stronger his grip becomes to the point where he’s pulling you into his lap and slamming the car door.

“Drive.”

Words were not enough to express your anger with him. You rested your head on the window as you closed your eyes and tried to recount what you have at home that would require the least amount of effort to cook in the morning.

Wait.

He didn’t.

He definitely did.

You definitely felt Taehyung making his dick jump. The idea of this party terrorist trying to calm you down by becoming a cock equestrian was as ridiculous as Jungkook walking into the bar tonight in his matching denim set and not leaving alone. He left after the second round of shots with Ms. October? November? One of the calendar sorority girls that saw his tattoos and piercings and decided that he was the one she was going to use to piss off daddy tonight.

Fuck.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at his continuous attempts at being Semen-biscuit in turn making him laugh as well. It’s the first one you shared all night. You decided to play along by adjusting yourself to apply just enough pressure to stroke his dick between your cheeks. He immediately brought his hands to your waist.

“Relax. You’ll get it,” he whispers in his smooth baritone reserved for the flavor of the night.

“Who said I wanted it?”

Being the last two to get dropped off after a long evening helped your stories. None of your friends would bear witness to the two of you giving in to each other like they all begged for.

You pulled him onto you and tried to open his pants with haste. His slap to the back of your hands confused you. Isn’t this why he’s here?

You watched him stand up and walk over to your nightstand before rummaging for the reflective foil that’ll keep you both safe tonight. He holds it between his teeth as he starts undressing.

“Tae! Why? You’re not staying so just whip it out and let’s get it over with.”

“I get that you need the dust knocked off that old thing but sex really is much better when you’re comfortable.”

“Fuck you.”

You didn’t want to admit how right he was. You shared a moment of tongues tangling with one another before you lifted away giving his lip a bite. Locking eyes with him, you lowered yourself feeling how tight of stretch he was going to be tonight.

“Hey, do you want me to—“

“No.”

You didn’t need his help. You didn’t ask for his help. You just want to get fucked.

You move from squatting over his dick to your knees with your arms on either side of his head.

“I really don’t mi—“

“Shut up Kim!”

“Okay.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes as you struggled to take all of him in. He knew your pride would keep you from enjoying tonight. He had to take matters into his own hands.

“Fuck it.”

“I’m trying to!”

He flipped you onto your back before entering you again but this time with much more success.

“Was someone feeling self-conscious on top,” he whispers in your ear. “Who would ha—“

Your hand pushing on his throat cuts him off.

“Just move!”

Once he was able to bottom out and you started making eye contact again, he knew he wouldn’t last. Especially when you climbed back on top now that you were wet enough to take him.

“Baby, you gotta stop. Okay?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna come so fucking much.”

“That’s the point.” It was so that’s why you ignored his grip on your waist, uncaring of his struggle.

“I’m going to get you back for this. I promise,” were his last words before lifting his hips into you. You were so close to finishing but your ego chose now to remind everyone it was in the room.

“Did I make that dick cum?”

“If you keep fucking me this good, I’ll marry you.”

“Size 8, white diamonds, princess cut, platinum. I now know what you make annually Kim,” you giggle before looking over at him as he catches his breath.

#doneimnida #luce shenanigans #you're not blocked because I actually really like when you give me the name Camacho Del Nopal Min

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heavenbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

PLEASE STAND BY: Love is strange

Wanda Maximoff x female reader

Warning/Contains: spoilers for “WandaVision”, aspects of mind-control meaning reader isn’t truly consenting, parts of this don’t make sense and are designed to make you feel strange, alcohol, arguments, cheating, kissing, oral sex (f!receiving), some good old fashioned 1950s gender rolls

Word Count: 3.8k

it was a given that i would be writing for wanda, but i never expected to get to do something so exciting, i really hope you all enjoy! it’s going to get sexy, get retro, and get creepy x

MASTERLIST

The day you met Mr. Vision at the end of your driveway, he was on his way to work in the early morning, you’d only spoken to him for a second but he seemed to draw a feeling from you that you hadn’t ever seen around here. He had to be the first man you’d spoken to in a while who wasn’t two-dimensional, he had to be the first neighbor you’d ever actually spoken to.

“We’ve only just moved in, how long have you been here?” He lent against your letterbox where you’d just been checking for mail, you’d seen the postman hanging around but he’d never dropped anything off for you.

“Well,” You thought on it for a moment, face going thoughtful as you tried to draw on the memory of first arriving in this town. “You know sometimes it feels like a lifetime and others it feels like barely any time has passed!”

He shared a chuckle with you, nodding in agreement at how strange a thing like time can be. “You live with your husband?”

“Yes, my husband James, we moved here once he’d returned from service.”

“Ah, and what does he do now?”

Again, your eyes narrowed and lips turned down slightly as you thought over what your husband did in a day. “Well he, you see-”

Thinking of it, your husband wakes in the morning and goes to work, he returns to your home cooked meal and you never really discuss it past that. “I’m not really too sure, he goes to his office and then he comes home.”

Mr. Vision reassures you with a shared chuckle, nodding at how strange a thing like work can be. “Sometimes I feel the same, and I’m the one doing the job!”

“Yes, I’m not too convinced that he doesn’t cease to exist once he leaves our home, at least till he comes back looking for food!”

Your laughter tapered off into sighs of agreement slowly, nodding quietly but both still overcome with even the slightest expressions of confusion, unable to shake that there just might be something you’re both missing.

It seemed to break quickly enough, smiles both back on your faces as you gave Mr. Vision the chance to continue his way to work. He called over his shoulder as he was leaving, “I’m sure my wife would like a new friend, you must go introduce yourself.”

Now, didn’t that sound like a dream.

Every day for you was like the one before and the next, you woke and you tidied and you cooked and went to bed. Sometimes it felt like you were a background character in someone’s life, like they were out doing the fun things you longed for whilst you milled about tending to a rosebush and kissing your husband on the cheek on your front porch.

There were also the, well simply the things you couldn’t explain. The way there was always food in your fridge despite the fact you’d never bought a single grocery, and the way-

The way that- the what? What were you talking about?

You shook your head with a smile, turning back into the house to freshen yourself for a moment. Your hair was perfectly set but you had the urge to tuck a piece behind your ear, straightening the skirt of your dress before going to the kitchen.

Taking some of the biscuits you’d made maybe a day ago, you lay them on a plate, before draping a tea towel across them. Carrying them down the street, you made your way to the Vision residence, gingerly bringing your hand to the door to wrap your knuckles against.

Mrs. Vision would be the first neighbor you really spoke to your whole time being here, what if she was like the others, didn’t wish to make pleasant conversation and enjoy company together. The fear seemed to break quickly enough as the door swung open.

Seeing her, it was like you were on stage and had forgotten your lines, she took all the breath out of your lungs. Round eyes that seemed to sparkle even in a town with the dullest hue, her cheeks drew up as she smiled at you. She looked like, well, a Vision.

“Good morning, can I help?”

Brought back to reality, you offered your plate of biscuits forward as you spoke. “Good morning, I live just down the street and met your husband this morning on his way to work this morning,” You smiled kindly to match her own expression. “So I thought I’d come say hello, Mrs. Vision.”

She stepped aside to allow you the chance to step into her beautiful home. “What a lovely surprise, and please, call me Wanda.”

Wanda was a wonderful host, dipping into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a tray of coffee. “Wow,” You remarked, taking the steaming cup from her hand. “It’s almost like you knew I was coming.”

She dropped an eye into a wink as she made her own cup. “A good housewife is always prepared.”

Wanda made things seem perfect, she made you laugh and she made you feel like you were truly a part of things. This town was lovely, you were very lucky to be where you are but everything did seem to be so black-and-white, like your whole life was written out before you with no chance to change.

You didn’t feel that way around this woman, it was like she was made from that wonderful energy that ran through this town, like she was capable of the change and excitement that you needed.

“Tell me about yourself, you have a husband?”

“Yes, James!” You smiled as you thought of him and all his loveliness. “He provides for us and is a real whizz at fixing the Television set when it gives me jiff.”

Wanda laughed as you took a sip from your coffee, it was the most perfect temperature and so rich as it ran across your tongue. You were beginning to think Wanda held a secret, the secret to being the most perfect housewife.

“And Mr. Vision, he seems really nice?”

She smiled fondly as she thought of her husband. “He is, a really great man, the kind you just couldn’t live without.”

A somewhat strange thing to say but you agreed with her nonetheless, you loved your James with the whole of your heart, you weren’t sure what you’d do if he was plucked from your grasp. Wanda continued, “But even then he does do some very “man” things.”

You gave her a small confused chuckle as she laughed along with you, shrugging her shoulders. “You know how they can be? So oblivious to things!”

Still not quite catching on, eyebrows furrowing just a tad as you implored her to elaborate a bit more. She threw one of her hands in the air, the other still holding her coffee as she spoke, “We could lay across the table in nothing but our shoes and they would still ask if we were putting dinner on it later!”

Your cheeks ran hot at her words, a hand coming to cover your mouth in shock as Wanda just laughed. She had to have been a truly modern woman to come up with things such as those, you couldn’t believe how she spoke, it was so...exciting?

“You know what I mean?” She asked, tilting her head gently.

You shook yours, thinking of your husband fondly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt, uh, neglected by him-”

Wanda was gently tapping a finger on her coffee cup, the sound being lost at the back of your mind as a thought suddenly overcame you. You most certainly wished your husband was more attentive, it was almost as if he didn’t notice you sometimes. Your tongue moved before you could control it.

“Some nights I think James is more interested in the sports section than he is in me, and I’m right beside him in our bed!”

You couldn’t believe your own words, how you seemed to forget yourself in that moment. Beginning to apologize profusely, Wanda laid a hand against your own to calm you down. It worked like a treat, the embarrassment fading from you in an instant.

“Men have a way of doing that, don’t they?” She took your coffee and placed it with her own on the table. “Sometimes, we just need a bit of attention.”

Like you had no control over your own mind, you were nodding in agreement. Plucking up the courage to look Wanda in the eye, that heat that had settled in your cheeks had spread across your whole being. She looked so kind, so interested in you, like the only person to really see you this whole time.

The feelings that came over you were unexplainable, you’d felt this way but only looking at your husband, somehow those feelings were rearing their heads every time Wanda moved beside you. It became clear to you that she still hadn’t moved that hand that was resting on your skin, she was still gently holding you and you weren’t doing a thing to stop it.

“Look at us,” Wanda sighed, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. “All this free time on our hands, enough time for attention.”

Your eyes flickered from her touch, to her lips as she spoke. Drawing them up to her eyes, without her saying a word you just knew what she was implying.

“Mr. Vision, he wouldn’t mind?”

“He’s a good man, he wants me happy, I know he wouldn’t mind.”

“My James-”

“He loves you doesn’t he? Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely?”

The feeling of reassurance was warm as it cast over you, wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly. James would want you happy, making friends, feeling cared for. Something told you that he’d want this for you, he’d be pleased for you.

Nodding gently, Wanda slowly bridged the gap as she lent in towards you. Her lips were so soft as they pressed to the plush of your own. Such a gentle kiss, unrushed with all the time in the world, just perfect. Her tongue nearly moved inside your mouth, but drew back at the last minute, another gentle kiss lay against your lips before she drew back.

“It’s getting late, we should carry this on another time.”

Looking at the clock on her wall, it was already the afternoon, your husband would be home soon and dinner wasn’t even on! You’d sworn you had only been here an hour, but you must’ve let time get away on you.

Wanda showed you to the door, a sweet kiss pressed against your cheek as she said her goodbyes. “I hope I get to see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You quietly looked forward to tomorrow already, you didn’t have to say a thing but from the look in her eyes, Wanda knew.

As you placed the meatloaf on the table before James, you sat before him, knife and fork in hand as you felt the urge to tell him about your day. “I made friends with our new neighbors today.”

“I’m really happy for you, doll.” He smiled back at you, taking a single bite of his dinner.

“She really gets me, understands me,” You too took a single bite of the food. “She even gave me quite a lovely kiss.”

James didn’t really react, he placed his cutlery down and smiled kindly. “Did you enjoy it?”

Dabbing your lips with a napkin and pushing your plate forward you nodded. “I really did, I cannot wait to see her tomorrow.”

“That’s great news, my love,” He stood from the table, collecting your plates. “How about we hit the hay, it’s been a long day.”

You were about to nod in agreement before you furrowed your brow for a moment. “Has it?”

James stopped for a second, looking at your almost full plates before back to you. “I- yes, I think it has been.”

You stood from the table and came to press a kiss on your cheek. “Good idea, I’ll go draw back the bed covers.”

Sitting in the sunshine with Wanda, they had the most glorious outdoor area, beautiful roses surrounding the space with a cobbled courtyard. You both sipped at the lemonade she’d made earlier as you simply enjoyed each others company.

That feeling of freedom was back to wash over you, the way she made you feel the most like yourself that you’d felt in some time. Sitting beside her on the lounger, you rolled your head towards her as she spoke, the cat eye sunglasses resting gentle on her button rose making her look like something out of a dream.

Your heart swelled as she spoke of nothing in particular, just happy to be around her and in good company, as she finished her sentence she let out a long draw of breath. Quietly, she took you in for a moment before tilting her glasses down a tad.

“Have you ever been with a woman before?”

“Never, James was my first,” You answered rather quickly before pausing. “I think.”

“Would you like me to show you what it’s like? How lovely it can be?”

You felt no hesitation, no doubt in your mind, you felt the words leaving your lips before Wanda had even finished her question. “Yes, please.”

Joining you on your lounger, she rested between your legs as her lips came to gently press to your own. She tasted of the lemonade and her own sweet taste, the way she moved against your mouth was enough to make you gasp into her mouth.

Her hands moved against your sides, gently tickling you and making just about every hair stand up on end. Wanda’s touch was nearly electric, so tantalizing and so new, unlike anything you’d felt. It was still so gentle and so loving, but there was something about what she knew, like it’d take you years to ever learn to do what she could. Like she was before her time.

Your head swirled with everything surrounding you, the pleasure, the excitement, the unknown. It was such a vulnerable position, laying beneath her as she moved down your body, pushing your skirt up your hips - yet it was almost as if you forgot to feel shame.

Maybe it was Wanda, when you were around her you were unable to feel embarrassment, she made everything feel so easy and so right, like you were always meant to end up here with her. She ran her touch along the skin of your thighs, making your breath jump as she brought her fingers to the high waistband of your underwear.

You allowed her to go wherever you wanted, you felt like you needed her all over you. Wanda was magnetic, pulled you in and captivated every one of your senses until you couldn’t stand it. You ran your hand along the side of her face as she smiled up at you, leaning into your touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” She bared her teeth as she spoke. “I’m so glad to have you here.”

The comment got lost in the air as her mouth lay against your most sensitive area, lips pursing against you as her tongue ran a long line along you. Your head pressed back into the cushions, a quite whimper escaping your lips as her tongue dove between your legs quickly.

Now this was nothing like you’d ever felt, the feeling was consuming, heat rising over your body and not just from the stream of sun that cast over the both of you. Wanda’s mouth worked expertly over you as your whole body tensed against her. She was magic, her mouth was magic, her touch was magic.

You cooed her name, fingers slotting into her perfectly done hair, seemingly not even messing it a bit as you gently pulled. Wanda moaned against you, tongue diving further into you, trying ardently to pull all sounds and reactions out of you.

Her hands ran up beneath your clothes, splaying across your belly and moving to the wire of your brassiere. You couldn’t remember the last time James touched you in this way, let alone a time ever where a woman had held you like this.

A woman’s touch was so gentle, it was so careful and so considered that it was enough to make your head spin. Wanda pulled you back in, mouth closing around that sensitive little bud that made your eyes roll back in your head. She suckled just enough to make you mewl, your chest rising so quickly with every ministration.

The feeling took over you so quickly, body locking up tight as she was sure to draw you straight to the edge and drive you crazy on the way there. Your eyes squeezed tight and you gripped Wanda’s shoulders, your mouth opening with a cry as you felt the tight band in your core snap.

She gently worked you down from your high, the flush of heat that had consumed you slowly dissipating as she sat up in front of you. Another sweet kiss against your mouth, gently and lovingly working against your lips.

“We should probably get ready, our men will be home soon.” She winked at you, the both of you giggling quietly to yourselves.

Sitting around the Vision’s dining table, the Steak Diane that Wanda had prepared looked incredibly inviting. James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, “It’s very kind of you both to invite us to dinner.”

“We had to, after all our wives are getting along swimmingly.” He gestured to yourself and to Wanda, raising his wine glass without taking a sip.

You shared a coy look with Wanda, smiling and raising your brows as she chuckled, before the four of you picked up your cutlery to take a bite of the food. James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, nodding towards their plates. “What is it with wives and being so talented in the kitchen?”

“You’re absolutely right,” He laughed in agreement before looking to you. “You like to cook?”

“I do rather, I’m forever at the stove making something new.” It was your turn to sport a bashful grin.

“What’s your favorite meal to make? Wanda is always whipping up some incredible creations.”

“I quite like meatloaf, I-” You stopped for a moment, turning slowly to your husband. “I make it every night.”

Unsure of why you’d expressed your love for making “something new”, it dawned on you that you made the same meal every evening without fail. James’ expression seemed to match yours, remembering the dinner that you’d had the night before, and the one before that.

A strange feeling tightened in your chest, unease, a feeling that you weren’t able to shake. You looked to Wanda, and the feeling only grew. You’d never seen her look like that before, it wasn’t a look of anger, but one of discontent.

Quickly turning away from her, you looked between her husband and your own. “I make the same dinner every night.” You repeated, shaking your head slightly.

Mr. Vision looked confused, turning to his wife and furrowing his brow at the look she was casting over the table. He darted back to you, before crossing his gaze to James. Wanda spoke up finally, “Well if that’s your favorite meal, you tend to do that, completely normal.”

She pushed her plate back, lifting her wine glass to her lips as she locked eyes with her husband. “Completely normal.”

“But every night?” Mr. Vision spoke up, eyes flickering back to your visible unease. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m just not feeling my self this moment.” You explained, fiddling with your napkin as your chest still felt just as heavy.

“It’s really okay, nothing to get upset over,” Wanda nearly snapped, just enough control over her voice. “Don’t fuss it, Vis.”

“We do have it every night,” James joined, looking to you with wide eyes. “The same meatloaf, the same sides-”

Wanda cut him off with a curt laugh, “It is just meatloaf, it really doesn’t need this much issue.”

“But, my love, it seems to be affecting them a bit more than-”

“Well, that is only because you won’t leave it alone!”

In the heat of the conversation, you tried to readjust your plate but the action cause your wine glass to tip, the red wine falling and spraying across James’ crisp white shirt.

“Oh my word, I am so sorry, I really have forgotten myself.” You rushed up to dab your napkin against his shirt but it was no use, it was only setting.

“What is going on here, Wanda?” Mr. Vision seemed less fazed about the spill and more about the previous conversation.

“Oh, Vision! Would you please just drop it and get Bucky a damp cloth!”

Your frantic hands stopped in an instant, eyes snapping open wide as your husband’s hand came to wrap around your wrist. Eyes darting up to his, you both shared a look of sudden and unbridled fear.

Slowly turning to look at Wanda, her expression had fallen and that same look of discontent was taking over her. You felt a pressure in your head, right behind your eyes as you looked from her and back to your husband. Realization set in as he gripped tighter onto you.

It was as if you couldn’t move, shouldn’t move. Everything had changed in that moment, this thread of perfect that ran through the whole town had unraveled right in front of you, right across the dinner table.

“Wanda,” You began, voice shaking only slightly despite yourself. “I think you need-”

“No,” She spoke once and it held the air of being final. “No, thank you.”

James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

“Did we get anything?”

“They were close, very close, but the scene seemed to reset itself and now all we have is this.”

The TV glowed bright with a slight crackle against it, the technicolor strips took over the space with a single black strip for the only words on screen.

“PLEASE STAND BY.”

#so this is how it starts #we've got to ease in they will get progressively sexier dw #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x female reader #scarlet witch smut #wandavision smut #wandavision imagine #wandavision spoilers

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lexiwright · 4 years ago

Text

Building Jealousy

Benny watts x reader

A/N- so hey first benny sorry. This was requested by Anonymous with the second prompt. This is my first in a while so I'm a bit rust but I really hope it's well received and yeah.

Also a side note that isn't import but when writing this Ive been listening to ”You” by petit biscuit. I'm not sure why but any time I've been reading anything to do with benny or writing him this is my go to song. But yes thanks for reading and ya.

Word count - 1720

Warnings - none

Prompt 2 “your jealous aren't you.”

You weren’t amazing at chess. You knew that. Next to people like Beth Harmon and Benny watts you were well aware of the fact. But it was an interesting game which you did good enough when you put your mind to it that you had entered a few tournaments over the years just for the adrenaline rush. You’ve managed to build up to a good enough level that you were state champion for a while but it only lasted a little while.

You’ve known benny a while. And Beth too. You were closer with benny and for a time you thought maybe the pair of yous could become something more. But as soon as Beth came into the frame you lost his interest and you went back to just admiring him without him returning any ounce of feelings to you.

You met Beth in Mexico. Before the great loss against Borgov. You barely got past the second round and lost in the third but hey you weren’t to bothered. But you had noticed how often Beth appeared alone and you decided to see if she wanted company. She seemed to take to you fairly well and yous quickly became friends. After her mum died you comforted her for a little while before you both had to go home. You understood she needed a bit of time and you went to New York for a little. You’d called up benny in advance who wasn’t doing much that weekend so offered his living room.

Accepting the offer and hoping to get to spend some more time with the man you arrived outside his house at a quarter to midnight. Shattered out of your mind from travel. You came in and greeted him as an old friend before you sat down at his table that displayed his board and had a look to see what he was playing.

It took you a second before you realised he’d been playing Beths last game with borgov. It’s angered you a little bit you tried to not care.

“How was the trip Y/N? “ asked benny as he rounded the table to the kitchen for some glasses.

“Nothing special. How’ve you been keeping?” You yawned and watched as he poured you a glass of milk.

“Ah, you know. Not a lot to do around here. Just waiting for the next tournament as always. I hear you met with Beth Harmon. What do you think of her?” He asked. Placing the glasses in the microwave for you both.

“Of course. She seemed nice. We got along well enough. Shame about her mum though but her playing is beyond amazing.” You accepted the glass of warm milk as you spoke and failed to notice as he tensed at your praise of the redhead.

He pushed his hair back and sat down in front of you and watched for a second as you took a sip of your milk. Studying your face with admiration.

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, he leaned his face on hand, two fingers tapping his cheek. Something you noticed he did when he was in thought. You tossed him a quizzical look before questioning him.

“What?”

He took a breathe and held it for a second before speaking in a gentle tone. “You look tired. Are you okay? “

You chuckled at him. Thinking he was joking. “Well, Benny I have just got off a plane so of course, I’m tired.”

But he stopped you. “No. It’s more than that.” You didn’t know what to say and just stared at him confused. He cleared his throat and moved back and gestured at the board. Still set up with Beth's last match. And spoke, “care for a few speed games?”

You rolled your eyes. You rarely win against him at speed chess. You know he was only doing this to show off. But you indulged him and let him flex his bored muscles. Yous played about ten rounds, winning two and drawing one while the king in a loose black striped shirt won 7. And you were sure he was going easy on you but you didn’t mind. It��s still fun.

Once he was sure you knew who was the best player and had finished your warm milk he suggested time for bed. Which you gladly accepted. He left you with the blow-up but knew you were too stubborn to let him do it.

You said goodnight and melted into one of the comfy seats rather than taking the blow-up bed and found yourself involuntarily drifting to sleep where you sat.

You woke with a start as you were shaken awake. You were on the plane and the air hostess was shaking you awake. Clipping in before landing you looked out the window. You were landing in New York again. Only this time you weren’t going to stay at Benny's. Beth was there now.

It had been a few weeks or so since you last stayed. You smiled at the memory of being woken up by a laughing Benny cause you hadn’t made it into bed last time.

You were staying at a hotel a while from Bennys. There was a small tournament that you thought would be fun to go too.

After leaving New York last time you’d called up Beth to see how she was doing. She had Harry beltik with her so at least she wasn’t alone.

You ended up taking for hours. Going over matches verbally for the fun of it and discussing favourite theory’s. This turned into a habit every few days and yous both seemed to get along well.

She called when Harry decided to leave. You could tell she was upset but didn’t want to push it too much. She called before her match with Benny. After the losing rounds of speed chess and you told her not to worry. And she called when she beat him. And then the next day when she told you she was going to New York with him.

You were happy for then although a little sad you wouldn’t get to spend time with him but you understood why.

You had got there a few days earlier so when you heard cleo was in town you opted to spend some time with her.

It had been a week or so and you had been invited to benny's along with Cleo and some boys. You went and was happy to catch up with Beth and Cleo.

You didn’t notice a dismayed benny who was disappointed your attention wasn’t on him.

He thought he could win you over by playing Beth in speed chess but even then he lost spectacularly. You sat out for the games. Not feeling like losing today. But when you and Cleo applauded beths wins. You failed to see just how livid he was that she impressed you more.

He went to bed sourly that night. Tossing and turning. Unable to get the beaming pride for Beth he saw on your face as you clapped her and not him.

Your third match of the tournament had been the next day. Normally if you think your gonna struggle you call benny and get some advice while you listen to him speak. His voice soothing you from nerves even if you end up loosing. But he knew that the match was today and was subtly waiting for the phone to ring. However when it did this time Beth picked up and you felt that you’d annoyed benny enough over the years so you decided to talk to Beth instead.

She was fine with this. Beth is proud of being needed. However, she ( unlike you) noticed the way benny drummed his fingers on the counter and stared at her as she said the first few words “Oh, hello Y/N...”

she noticed as his pupils dilated and the drumming stopped.

He had expected her to hand him the phone after that but when she didn’t he couldn’t understand why. And when Beth started talking about the game you were about to play he could feel as something boiled in him. He was who you needed. Not Beth. Yes, Beth was better than him but you needed him. Benny like being able to give you that little bit of ease before a scary match.

He waited a little while longer in case Beth gave him the phone. Till he realised she wasn’t going too.

“Is that Y/N?” He questioned harshly.

Beth just nodded and continued the conversation.

Benny couldn’t take it. And marched over to stand in front of Beth. “What does she want?” He asked. Even though he knew.

“Well she’s got her match today and she said she was nervous,” Beth said deadpanning.

The look on Benny watts faces told Beth something was afoot. Then she realised and gave him a smug look as she said her next words slow and loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Your jealous aren’t you?”

He froze for a moment. Realising what she said was right.

He barely registered as Beth spoke to you again apologizing “sorry Y/N. I’ve got a green ogre here that I’m going to pass you too. Good luck for the match. “

She preset to phone into his hand and moved for him to sit in her seat.

He held the phone to his ear to hear your voice and he frowned.

“Benny what’s wrong”

He paused thinking before speaking with an almost whiny tone.

“ you think you can drop me cause I was beaten by Beth Harmon at speed chess, no, uh uh. I'm here to stay Y/N L/N and I won’t sit back and let you go off to someone else. No. Your mine got it.”

You were speechless. You hadn’t realised benny felt like thins. He realised what he said.

“ well eh you know, your not my property that’s not what I mean. I just.”

He took a deep breath and spoke with confidence. “ I need you Y/N. You're like the queen to my king. I feel I’m nothing without you. So please don’t brush me off for someone better.”

You smiled over the phone and he could hear it in your voice. “ I’d never brush you off benny.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

#benny watts x reader #benny watts #beth harmon #queens gambit #x reader #benny #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster

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emilia3546 · 3 years ago

Text

Secrets Part Two - Nessian

Written for Nessian month using prompt: Nessian on a date

*****

The terrace was empty. Nesta leaned against the railing and sighed, staring out over Velaris, the lights of homes and businesses glittering like stars in the night sky. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, reminding herself why she so often kept it braided out of the way, even now with only half down and the rest twisted up onto her head she knew it would end up annoying her later. But, for all it's annoyance, it gave her the opportunity to use Feyre's mating present to the best of its ability. She grinned to herself, imagining Cassian's reaction when he saw her, her usually golden brown hair glimmering with the stardust she'd brushed through it, shining with a light of its own in the absence of the sun. It had taken longer than she'd expected but it matched the glimmering thread woven into her black dress. Sleeveless, backless, cut just above her knees, it was daring enough to make sure Cassian would notice nothing else all evening, whilst remaining within her comfort. She glanced over her shoulder, and smiled again at the sight of her reflection in the House's windows, her new mating tattoo of Illyrian wings across her shoulders and back totally exposed by the cut of her dress.

She sighed again, this time a slight huff of annoyance, she'd rushed to finish her hair, and Cassian had the nerve to be late after leaving her alone all day. She was still thinking of how to get back at him when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Nesta started but relaxed into Cassian's hold a moment later, murmuring a greeting as he pressed his lips to her temple,

"Sorry I left you waiting, Sweetheart, I wanted it to be perfect,"

"What? What did you do?" She questioned, suddenly worried that her planned some annoying practical joke, but her suspicions faded when he tugged her back against his chest,

"It's a secret," he whispered, and she spun round to face him, her eyes widening at the sight of him. With a new, ironed, shirt tucked into a pair a black pants, and his proper coat, Nesta had never been so attracted to him, half of her was tempted to drag him back to their bedroom at once, but she wanted to know the secret so she'd play along. "You look beautiful, Nes," he murmured, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he carefully lifted her into his arms, a glowing red shield appearing around them as he moved to take off. At her questioning glance her grinned, "I wouldn't want to mess up your hair," he chuckled, winking before leaping into the sky, leaving Nesta with no doubts as to what he wanted to do later.

They flew over all of Nesta's favorite restaurants and continued along the Sidra, waving to Feyre when they passed over the River House. She knew something, Nesta could tell, her sister had been scheming with Cassian, and she couldn't figure out why, it was infuriating. Still, she kept her features carefully neutral, if a little entranced by the beauty of the city, at least until Cassian set her down on the far bank of the river, in Elain's garden, night blooming flowers surrounding them.

Cassian reached out to pluck a rose from the nearest bush and tucked it behind her ear, grinning to himself as he led her through the multitude of blooming flowers, clearly noting her reactions to them all, she'd hardly be surprised to find a pot of the moonstone dahlias waiting on the windowsill when they got home. She matched his grin when her eyes landed on the little table by the water's edge, set for two with a little Illyrian slow cooker set a little away from it.

"Did you do all this?" She breathed, "It's beautiful, Cass," he just grinned again and pulled out a chair for her,

"I figured it was time I returned the favor and cooked for you,"

"Perhaps yours will be better than a stale biscuit," she laughed, knowing full well how good he was at cooking. Still, he snorted with laughter,

"Not setting the bar very high, are we?"

"Oi! That biscuit sealed the mating bond so you can shut up," she huffed, trying to sound annoyed, but her soft giggle gave it away, and Cassian brushed a wing against her collarbone as he moved to the cooker.

Nesta's mouth watered at the scent of the delicately spiced slow cooked lamb that he set down on the table, the delicate scent of Adriatan saffron from the accompanying Summer Court inspired rice dish. All her lingering annoyance that he'd left her all day faded at the first mouthful, the lamb practically melting in her mouth. Not that Cassian needed an ego boost, but she had to admit, there was one thing he'd always be better at, cooking, she could admit now that no matter how much she practiced, she didn't have the instinctive knowledge of which spices to use, how best to cook something. She could always learn, but she's never match the instinct to just know. She must have said as much as Cassian laughed and compared their dancing abilities, likening himself to an elephant. Nesta had never seen an elephant, having never traveled to the continent, but she knew what one was from her early education. She snorted in laugher and made Cassian promise that they could go to the continent just as soon as tensions died down and they could be spared from the Night Court.

There was no other way to describe it, the evening was perfect, the stars glimmering off the Sidra's glassy surface, the flowers swaying softly in the wind, and Cassian. No one had ever done something like this for her, there had never been anyone she had wanted this with, but she couldn't imagine anything more perfect. Once they'd finished eating, Cassian spent an hour or so pointing out every constellation until Nesta could see them, she could see Enalius' belt, see the shape the stars made of the ancient warrior. She grinned when Cassian pointed out the brightest star in the sky,

"That one, Nes, that's ours, whenever you look up at that star when we're not together, I'll be looking too, that's our reminder, our way home." And it was their way home, for the star glimmered right above Velaris, their star, she would never forget that one, not in a thousand years, the other ones maybe, but their star, never.

The table was gone when they turned back, everything cleared up, but Feyre's scent was unmistakable, and Nesta had no doubt that she'd also supplied the rarer spices for the meal. With the space empty, she could just lean back into Cassian's arms, the sounds of the garden and the city surrounding them, the light of their star shining down. They might have stood there for a minute, an hour, but time really stopped when Cassian spun her round in his arms, kissing her with all passion and love they'd both been holding back for so long. Nesta wound her hands into his hair, coming up breathless when he finally pulled back, their star reflected in his eyes as he whispered her three favorite words,

"I love you ."

#fanfiction #fanfic #nessianmonth #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #Nesta x Cassian #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames

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honeypirate · 4 years ago

Text

Sick Day

Bakugou x Reader fluff

Bakugou is a soft boy underneath it all and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Being a support student was fun for the most part, you did well in your classes so you got free reign of creativity. You were currently working on your final, a way to enhance food for heroes with food related quirks. You were able to use the kitchen and Lunch Rush even gave you your own corner if you kept it clean and would provide you with any food related ingredients. When you didn’t see Bakugou during lunch, which was a regular occurrence, you felt a little worried. You sat with him once on a dare and you guys became friends when he tried to pick on you and you easily matched his game, firing back witty comments with ease, he would never admit it but he thought of you as a good friend (and he thought you were gorgeous too but he’d never admit that either)

“Where’s Bakugou?” you asked when sitting down next to Ochako at your usual table. “He’s sick so Mr. Aizawa is making him take the day off so he doesn't push himself and get worse” you nodded “makes sense” you felt a pang in your chest, you actually missed him.

Which is why you decided to do something that you knew he wouldn't like but you had to do it anyway. You finished lunch quickly and made a quick run down to the university store, grabbing some cough drops and some Gatorade, and grabbing up some of his favorite candy that you always see him eating, Hot Tamales.

After your classes end and you have your time to work on your final, you decide to first make some chicken soup, adding all the love you do for anyone you care about, making sure it is as delicious as you could make it before packing it up along with some homemade biscuits and a spoon. You brew some chamomile tea and put it in a thermos before putting it all in your backpack and leaving the kitchen.

You feel nervous as you walk into the 1A Dorm, it looked just like yours inside but still felt different. You had texted Ochako for Bakugou’s room location and were now in the elevator. You felt your stomach flip in anticipation as your nerves rapidly increased.

You take a deep breath and knock on the door three times, you hear shuffling before a very annoyed and sick looking Bakugou opens the door. “What are you doing here?” his normally angry voice now extra nasally with an obvious sinus infection. He had his blanket wrapped around him and covering his head and he had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. “Can I come in, Kacchan?” you shift on your feet with a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, he lets out a big huff, then rolls his eyes, turning and leaving the door open and he shuffles back to bed.

You can't help the small chuckle as you follow him inside closing the door. He sits cross legged on his bed hugging the blanket tighter to him with a shiver as he glares at you, waiting for you to say why you’re here.

“Look” you raise your eyebrows and point at him “before I say what I'm doing here, I want you to promise me you won't say anything rude about it. I know we joke around a lot but I’m just being nice and I'm afraid if you say something mean to my face I will cry. Okay?” your voice cracks a little, obviously worried, but he doesn't want you to be worried, he would never hurt you and he can tell you’re being sweet. He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but nonetheless mumbles out an “I promise” without making eye contact.

You nod and smile, releasing the breath you were holding “good. okay. now, I know our friendship is just jokes and insults, and this better not make you stop being my friend either..” You send a pointed look at him and then pull out the soup and bread, the thermos of tea, and the bag of extra goodies from the store and set them on his bed. you clear your throat, your voice quiet when you speak “There is no one else I can be this witty with, everyone else I just end up accidentally hurting feelings. So the reasons behind me making you soup is very selfish.” you point out, hoping he doesn't think you’re weird now, you just want him to feel better. “so, you know, feel better and get back to business being my friend”

You put your backpack on and then head to the door “wait” his soft voice stops you, your hand on the doorknob as you look over your shoulder at him “yeah?” he clears his throat, his cheeks and the tips of his ears red as he holds the still hot bowl of soup in his hands, his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes sting from the tears he won't let fall. His heart is racing and he feels so cared for.

After he spent his whole day alone in bed, hungry but sick and not having anything that would soothe his stomach, he missed his mom because at least she always took care of him without him having to ask. He was having an unbearably hard time being here and then you showed up, giving him everything he wished he had, he took a bite of the still warm butter biscuit and swallowed, hoping it would get rid of the tightness in his throat from the feelings he was having.

He looked up at you then, his eyes holding a few unshed tears and all of the feelings right there on the surface, you see how vulnerable he is and you just smile warmly at him, dropping the doorknob and turning back and looking at him, holding your hands in front of you. He clears his throat and wipes the stray tear off his cheek, placing a half assed fake glare on his face as he says “thank you, y/n” his nasally voice making your heart squeeze “of course. I can be a pain in the ass but I like to take care of my friends. And don't worry,” you grin “I won't tell anyone how soft you are when you're sick” you wink and chuckle, smiling warmly when he laughs softly as well. “Text me if you need anything else” you say as you exit the room, taking a last glance at Bakugou as the door closes, smiling after the first bite of soup.

#mha #mha bakugou #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #katsuki x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou fluff

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liliesoftherain · 4 years ago

Text

My Everlasting Alstroemeria

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader; Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst?

Summary: Part 2 of Alstroemeria

A/N: Hi y’all, here's part 2!! Bakugou’s Pov. Let me know if you want a Deku pov????

-----

“Say hello dear; this is Lady (l/n) and her lovely daughter, Miss (y/n) (l/n).”

Katsuki stands there as The Lady bows gracefully with her daughter following suit, so he straightens and greets them as he’s been taught to.

The Lady smiles, turning to his mother, and converses about something he has already tuned out. He stares at you, all properly cleaned and groomed--he wants to roll his eyes. He hasn’t encountered many girls his age before, but he knows they were all too, too girly.

“Katsuki, why don’t you show Miss (l/n) around the gardens outside? I am sure she will appreciate the sights,” His mother gently shoves him closer to where you stood, grinning triumphantly and looking at your mother with a wink. “Now, friend, we have an entire tray of biscuits calling our name--shall we?”

The adults walk off to the parlor, and Katsuki knows they’ll have a perfect view of the gardens from there. Just great, he has to continue to pretend to be nice.

He saunters away, yet doesn’t make it more than three steps as he realizes you still haven’t moved. How bothersome.

“Are you coming, or not?”

“Oh, um, of course!”

Katsuki actually rolls his eyes this time, all while struggling to keep his hands from entering his pockets--he can still feel the welts of his mother’s fan as she reminded him of how improper he acted. You keep quiet, and he supposes it’s better than you talking his ear off like the other boys from his school.

The garden was nothing new to him, the same flowers and exotic plants, perfectly trimmed and on display. The marble fountain in the center of it all was always a fan favorite--even if he could care less about the structure.

Despite his feelings, he noticed that your wide eyes have settled upon it so he brings you close enough to view the detailed carvings along the sides.

“It’s beautiful!”

“I suppose.”

He huffs, sitting on the ledge as you continue to admire it. The longer you stare, the more aggravated he grows, and he can’t help as he stands to shout for your attention.

“Hey! It’s just a fountain--Woah!”

Katsuki wasn’t expecting you to be leaning down to touch the water so close to where he was, so the moment he stands and turns he ends up bumping into you--sending you straight into the water.

The fountain isn’t deep, so you sit up without a struggle, but you are soaked. Your hair is ruined, and you spit water from your mouth. Rubbing your eyes of stray droplets, Katsuki winces at the fact you will start to cry at any moment--as well as the hits he’ll receive later, although he tries not to think about it.

“I, what were you, are you okay? Why were you so close to me?”

He grabs you by the arms and tries to pull you out, sending nervous glances to the large windows to his left. He can tell you’re still processing what happened; you’re rapidly blinking and proving to be of little help as Katsuki drags you out and plops you to sit on the edge--much to his annoyance.

When your (e/c) eyes bore into his own, he knows this is it; this is the moment where you’ll start to throw a fit, and he’ll never hear the end of it.

“Don’t cry, for the love of--”

Instead of tears, he is granted with laughter that thoroughly confuses him--why were you laughing? You chortle loudly, gripping the sides of your stomach and leaning forward. Katsuki doesn’t know whether he should steady you or step back, so he just stays still, watching as your body shakes and shivers from the breeze--yet you still laugh.

“What, just what is so funny?” Exasperation tugs his lips downward, and you struggle to contain yourself.

“Sorry. I just can’t help it--I, I fell into a fountain! Mother is going to be furious.”

You stand, and Katsuki jumps back to avoid getting wet; your skirts are weighed down by the water, and it falls to the ground around your shoes. Although, it doesn’t matter much, seeing as your shoes are also soaked straight through. His eyes narrow and his mouth twists in amusement, he struggles to contain his own laughter at the full sight of you.

“You look like a wet cat.”

“I feel like a wet cat.”

“You aren’t going to cry, are you?”

“Cry?” You tilt your head in confusion, grasping the ends of your dress to ring out as much water as you could. “Why would I cry?”

“Because, um, well, because you fell?”

“So?”

“So now your dress is ruined. Don’t you girls care about stuff like that?”

“It will dry, won’t it?” You shrug, grinning brightly up at him. “Besides, these dresses are pretty itchy.”

Huh. You were strange--especially for a girl.

-----

“Katsu!”

He turns at the sound of your voice, watching as you hike your skirts up and run towards him. He faintly hears your mother yelling at you to behave, to act more proper, but you pay no heed as you continue on. You’re out of breath by the time you reach him, yet you’re still grinning wide, with a missing tooth on display.

“You’re not supposed to run like that--you act like such a boy sometimes.”

He has to look away as you puff your cheeks in protest, smoothing your dress down as if it would help. You were awfully annoying.

“How mean of you Katsu, I came for you to be nice and play with me, not for you to be grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy!”

“You are too!”

Katsuki huffs, flicking your forehead before running further off into the woodland behind the manor. The yelp of aggravation causes him to laugh, and he turns back to see you chasing after him--the bottom of your dress collecting dust and you weren’t upset about it.

Good, he didn’t want to be friends with a girl who was fussy and cry-babyish after all.

-----

“Katsu!”

He holds in a sigh, seeing the table you have set before you--the same table you have been decorating differently for the last week in fact. Why did you have to do this anyway? What was the point of setting a table--didn’t the maids do that? Who cares what it looks like, it was just for gossiping ladies wasn’t it?

He spots another occupant and the table, and this time he cannot hold in his sigh of annoyance. Of course, Izuku had to be here, the little wimp never knew how to say no to you.

“Katsu, come sit and enjoy some tea!”

Your smile was small--formal--and Katsuki found the sight rather gross. Still, he sat down. Not because you asked him to, he was just tired after having to come all the way to your home. That was all.

“Good to see you, Katsuki!” Izuku waves shyly.

“I would say likewise, but it would not be gentlemanly of me to be dishonest.”

“Behave.”

He rolls his eyes at your input, leaning back in the chair as you come close and pour him a cup of tea. He observes your side profile, the way your brows--that used to be furrow in concentration as you struggled not to spill a drop--now stay smooth and worry-free. You’re graceful and poised, something he wasn’t used to. You catch him looking through the corner of your eye, and you smile sweetly at him. He quickly huffs, looking away annoyed.

Girls were so weird--you were so weird.

Katsuki watches as you gracefully take your place in the chair across from him, conversing in idle chatter with Izuku about who knows what. You sat straight, arms perfectly crossed over your lap, with a flawlessly pressed gown, and not a hair out of place.

“I just feel as if something is missing from the décor, don’t you agree?”

“I believe it is lovely, (y/n).”

“Well, thank you Izu, but I really believe there is just, just something that I need to add.”

You sigh, face screwing up as you ponder, and Katsuki acknowledges that he prefers your face this way. Less put together, more you. It’s easier to make fun of that way, of course.

“Your face will be stuck if you continue looking in such an ugly manner.”

“Oh hush you fiend, I do not need beauty tips from someone whose frown lines are more prominent than his fathers.”

Katsuki exhales quickly, amused at your quick wit.

Time passes and they leave you, Katsuki sending Izuku off with a warning of his victory at the next fencing match. Yet before he can fully leave your tea room, he glances back and watches as you continue to fret over whatever it could be you need for your final table piece. He turns away before you notice, heading home, and finds himself in his own mother’s parlor.

Her spread is just about the same as any other boring table, and yet set in the center was a large bouquet of her favorite flowers. Petals decorated around the tins and plates that would have held the food. Scoffing in distaste he leaves for his room, muttering how boring and stupid tea parties were and how he would never understand.

On his walk home after school the next day, he takes a long way home through a field of flora. He didn’t want to go home right away, that was all, and this was the longest route he knew. It wasn’t his fault it was full of flowers, and it certainly wasn’t his fault as he spotted a vibrant shrub of sunset-colored ones that he just had to pick.

Once inside his home, he mentally cursed as the first person to notice him was no one other than his mother.

“Katsuki, what are those?”

“Flowers mother, of course.”

His tone didn’t go unnoticed, and Lady Bakugou clicked her tongue at his words.

“For whom are your, of-course-flowers, to go to?”

“No one. I simply wanted them.”

“You simply wanted an alstroemeria--a romance flower?”

“I just wanted them; I do not care what they are.”

“...What an insufferable child.” She dismissed him with a wave.

He holds his tongue, rushing up the stairs and away from her scrutinizing eyes. A breath of relief stops short as she speaks up once more, a teasing tilt to her voice.

“Would you tell Miss (l/n) I say hello whenever you present her your gift? It has been too long.”

Why were all the women in his life so aggravating?

-----

“Katsuki, can you please try to act as if you are entertained?”

“This is the fourth dance today, (y/n), I cannot be any less than indifferent now.”

You both circle each other, the music from the pianist floods the ballroom and he can tell you were counting in your head along to the beat. He brings you back into his arms, and you stare into his eyes, your own swirling with emotion. Katsuki pulls his gaze away, choosing to look around instead; pride puffs his chest as he sees multiple alstroemerias decorating the room.

“Oh, of course! You must be exhausted--do you want to stop?”

He’s drawn back to your face, and he curses how he is unable to stop sneaking peeks at your pouted lips. He wants to say yes; he wants to tell you how his feet ache, how since he had barely gotten home from his small business trip with his father a mere few hours ago he wants nothing more than to sleep.

“No. Now continue before I change my mind.”

The smile that stretches across your face is absolutely radiant, and the laugh bubbles from your lips causes his stomach to twist in ways that he cannot explain.

You really are a strange and aggravating girl--one he can’t appear to say no to.

-----

“Oh Katsuki, it is adorable!”

He watches as you trace a finger along the broaches front, your once sullen mood has now gone at the sight. When he first arrived he didn’t understand why you looked to be so upset, but the moment you realized it was him you had perked up.

A part of him wishes to believe you were happy for his return, and not just the idea of presents.

The broach pin he had gotten was something he felt as if he needed to have for you; obtaining it on another one of his trips, this one lasting far longer than most. He went away the entire summer, staying in one of his father’s estates in another area he possesses, for educational purposes. As a future Duke, he was constantly thrown around to learn lands, trade, and the people of surrounding areas--especially of the land he will one day inherit. It was rather taxing, boring, and dare he say lonely.

Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but your presence was quite missed.

“Of course it is, my taste is impeccable after all.”

“Yes, the only man who would see the beauty in a woman’s broach.” You laugh at your own taunt, and Katsuki clicks his tongue as he pretends to try and snatch it back.

“I will just keep this then if I am the only one who sees such beauty.”

“No, I am merely jesting! Please, I love it.”

You bring it close to your chest, holding it carefully as if it were the most precious thing you owned, and his heartbeat quickened. He knew that wasn’t true--you may not have been as high in social status as he was, but being the daughter of a Viscount meant you still had luxury in life. As well as being the only daughter of your line meant you were pampered, downright spoiled, and yet you were anything but a pompous brat; you were wonderful, kind, caring, and too sweet for your own good.

“I really do love it Katsuki. Thank you. I’ll wear it always, it looks just like my favorite flower! My everlasting alstroemeria.”

Maybe you were too sweet for his own good.

-----

“What are you two doing here?”

Katsuki stands beside Izuku as they both find you in the drawing-room, accompanied by your mother. You both stand and bow, and he and Izuku dismiss the gesture--they are both too familiar to want to be treated with such formalities behind closed doors. Your mother allows the boys to take her spot, and she moves to the other side of the room to grant some privacy.

“Well, we are all to be busy this season--you especially of course.” Izuku starts, soft eyes not going unnoticed by Katsuki.

He does all he can to not push him away from your side.

“We came here to wish you luck, you are sure to need it with all this prepping you must endure.” Katsuki sighs, leaning back tiredly as if it was him to be affected.

Your laugh lights a fire within him, and he can’t remember when it had switched from an annoyance to being angelic music.

“You both are too kind--I shall survive, hopefully.”

You fall into easy conversation, and Katsuki remains reserved to observe.

You’ve grown throughout the years, no longer were you the wild child who would ambush him with sticks in the grove behind his home. No longer were you the young girl who would step on his toes purposely when he would verbally complain. No, now you were a bewitching young woman, one with an enticing face, enthralling wit, and a beauty like no other.

If you weren’t the top choice for the season, he would be surprised--no doubt would the rest of the male occupants; it was something he was dreading. The chance to court you would be more difficult with the more callers you had and while he didn’t want to use his status as a flaunting point, he would hope it would keep others at bay until he could propose.

However, no one was as big of a threat as the green-eyed dimwit he called a friend. Katsuki was no fool, he knew Izuku cared for you just as much as he did. How could they not become so enchanted with you?

You were perfect.

“I am not looking forward to all the dancing, it is different than dancing at home with one of you.”

“Well, you must promise to save a dance for me then.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow, attention focused on him. That’s what he liked to see.

“Yes, you must. I have been subjected to your torture for years now--I have to see if you can hold your composure while under that type of pressure.”

You snort, an extremely unladylike mannerism that he held endearment for, and roll your eyes at his taunts.

“Well then it is a promise, I shall always make sure to save you a dance,” you turn from him to the other and the illusion of being alone with you vanishes, “the both of you.”

Yes, if there was one person he’d have to watch for, it was going to be Izuku.

-----

“My Lord, this is my daughter, Miss Tokage.”

Katsuki merely greets her respectfully, not fully present in the conversation as he waits for your arrival.

When you do arrive, it is like time had stood still--no one else’s presence mattered except yours. You were ethereal; your seamstress having outdone herself as you wore a gown that did nothing but accentuate all the right traits. Your makeup--while you never needed it--brought out the color of your eyes and the temptations of your lips. Your hair was adorned with alstroemerias of the same beautiful sunset gold as he had brought to you all those years ago, and the urge to propose to you then and there was extremely difficult to hold back.

As his feet began to move toward you, a body blocked the way.

“My Lord, my dances for tonight are free--if you wish to occupy them, that is.”

His eyes flicker back to you, seeing you hanging off your mother’s arm as another suitor reaches you first. As long as it wasn’t Izuku…

He catches his mothers gaze, and she too looks as if she wants for him to turn the girl away. Yet she offers a half-heartfelt smile, and he feels his resolve crumble. That's right, Miss. Tokage was a very prestigious daughter, and it would be a good match. But that's not what he wanted--he wanted you.

He swallows down a sigh, accepting her offer as he writes his name on the first dance and pulls her onto the floor. Dancing with her is much different than with you; she's not the right height, she feels all too wrong in his arms, and the little conversation there is, is dull. Sure, he is probably the cause of that, as he merely offers polite responses and nothing more. He searches for you again, and finds you standing off to the side--the one and only Izuku standing next to you.

The song ends, and Katsuki means to take his leave to head to you but this girl follows him, and he tries to explain as peacefully as he can that he is no longer interested before he gives up and makes his leave anyways.

Katsuki searches the dance floor and sees how Izuku twists you effortlessly, and his anger begins to rise. You both are laughing, as always, and yet Katsuki knew it was different than before. This time, it meant so much more than playful banter between childhood friends.

Without another thought, he pushes himself in your direction with a simple,

“Pardon--”

Your wide eyes fall upon him and his heart stutters.

“Miss (l/n), a dance? A real dance, anyways. Seeing as the ever graceful Izuku may as well have two left feet.”

“Oh, most amusing, Katsuki.”

When you look away, his smirk loses its humor and grows tighter; Izuku’s eyes darken in return. His arm tightens around you, and Katsuki has to bite his tongue lest he say something he’d regret.

When you take his outstretched hand, he calms; you’re the only one who could soothe his soul with something as simple as your touch. He spins you round, before pulling you close--this is what he needed. You fit perfectly into his arms, there was no way anyone could ever replace you.

“How are you this evening, (y/n)?”

“Very well, My Lord.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what to make of your neutral face--normally at these events you joke and tease him, talking the night away, uncaring of the scrutinizing eyes of the guests. Now, it was as if you were truly strangers, speaking formally as any other person would.

After a bit more coaxing, you relax, and even let out an adorable snigger--he bites his lip to hold back a smile. There was the girl he loved.

“May I say, your hair looks lovely tonight--alstroemerias again? It suits you.”

He spins you, slightly longer than before just so he could control his flaming cheeks, and holds you closer when you spin back. All of his life he never understood why he cared for you so much; you were some strange girl his mother had made him escort around until you were so much more.

He yearned for your quips and teases, he ached for your time and presence, he so desperately desired to spend every moment by your side. You understood him like no other, conversations with you were never dull, always full of life and warm--and he longed to converse with you until he grew old and unable.

To him you were his path to true happiness, and Katsuki wanted nothing more than to be truly happy. Yet, your happiness mattered more; Katsuki would do anything to ensure it.

He bowed when the dance finished, and his eyes looked up and locked onto green. Izuku stood off in the crowd, bottom lip caught between teeth before his attention flickered elsewhere. Maybe this was the opportunity he needed to take, to propose here before anyone else could. But fear kept his mouth from moving, what if you were to say no? What if you never spoke to him again? He could let you go if he had to, but did he really have the strength to never be able to be near you again?

“Thank you for the dance, My Lord. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

Confusion tore him from his thoughts, words caught in his throat as he watched you hastily walk away. Your tone was sharp, words final as you disappeared in the crowd.

When his eyes flickered to where Izuku once stood, he found that he too was nowhere to be seen.

-----

Katsuki Bakugou has never felt quite this hurt before; the feeling of his heart clenching in pain is something entirely new to him. His body is numb, his hands shake, and the feeling of drowning makes it difficult to breathe.

He is stuck in place, watching as another puts a flower behind your ear and brings your hand up to his lips. He cannot move as you grow shy, basking in the presence of another man's soft gaze.

“Izuku…”

“If the Lady is willing to accept, may I be so bold as to call upon her tomorrow?”

“Of course, My Lord.”

That punch to the gut is what it takes for him to come back down to reality, and he quickly turns on his heel and leaves. He aches in silence, leaving the ballroom without any goodbyes, blowing right past the juniper maiden who just couldn’t take the hint.

None of that was important, he was too focused on his need for a breath as his chest constricts with the lack of oxygen. His gasps ring out into the empty night and he’s forced to learn against a marble pillar lest he falls.

To be reduced to such a pathetic state angered him, but it was nothing compared to the anger he felt at his so-called childhood friend.

The anger soon melted into even more pain, and Katsuki clenched his jaw at the way his throat constricted. He knew from the beginning he hadn’t much of a chance, he knew Izuku would be his biggest competition, and yet, there wasn’t one at all. If Izuku won your hear--who was he to argue that?

And so, he knew that nothing will ever be as good as it once was, as you were, nothing will be worth all his effort like you were, no one will ever come close to you.

But if you were happy, he could pretend to be.

For you, his everlasting alstroemeria.

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