#im also back to. not particularly liking their new expressions

[impossible-rat-babies]

i keep forgetting to put glasses on them w this glam

[artgletic]

PREVVVVVV THANK YOUUUUU i drew another for you ( :

so theres this embodiment of deception...

[leona-hawthorne]

AHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!!! OKAY OKAY I WANTED TO BE ONE OF THE FIRST REQUESTS SO....

Can I have book browsing, trope is Friends to Lovers, with Theodore Nott, quotes/scenarios being: “say we’re just friends one more time. i dare you.”

“you’re so cute.” “what?” “i said you look like shit. bye!”

random people thinking you’re a couple when you’re supposed to be just “friends”

I'm so excited girl obviously no rush or obligation to write this but yeah love you

And I might have ideas for at least 2 more for the other two tropes I'm in love with (GrumpyxSunshine and fake dating)

I FEEL LIKE A PROUD MOM!! CONGRATS!!

HIIII I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING BB!!! and you can send in as many requests as you want, i LOVE fake dating 🤭 i haven't written a cute little friends to lovers in a VERY long time so this was so much fun for me, hope you like it :) also i love how i said these were gonna be drabbles and now this is over 2k 🧍🏽‍♀️(ps there was a position that i really struggled to describe so i hope the pic on the left helps you imagine it)

1k celebration navigation

JUST FRIENDS… book browsing

ミ★ THEODORE NOTT

The smell of old parchment and polished wood filled the little record store in Hogsmeade, the familiar scent settling around you like a cozy blanket. It was one of those shops you and Theo always managed to stumble into, especially on days when you both needed a break from the endless demands of exams and essays. 

Theo was flipping through a stack of records, eyebrows knit in concentration, while you stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sharing amused little glances every time he pulled out a particularly dusty one. When he found an album cover featuring a hilariously dramatic wizard band—complete with glittering robes and exaggerated makeup—he held it up for you to see, lips twitching as he tried to hold back a laugh.

"Could be your new look," you teased, nudging him lightly.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of mischief in them. "Think I could pull it off?"

"Not in a million years," you said, grinning, and he chuckled, the sound sweet and warm, and somehow just for you.

Moments later, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Stay here," he said, brushing a loose strand behind your ear in an almost absent gesture, one that had become so natural you barely noticed it anymore. "I’m leaving and getting us butterbeers before you can insult my taste any further."

Before you could respond, he was off, slipping out of the shop and leaving you alone with the smell of old records and a contented smile you couldn’t quite shake. 

You let your gaze wander across the store, admiring the walls plastered with concert posters and slightly faded album covers. It was then that the shopkeeper—a kind-eyed woman who looked as if she'd seen more than her fair share of young love—caught your attention. She was watching you with a soft, approving smile, and before you could say anything, she leaned in conspiratorially.

“You two make a beautiful couple, you know,” she said, her voice low but warm, as if she was sharing a delightful little secret.

Your mind stumbled over the words. “Oh! Um,” you stammered, your cheeks warming under her steady, amused gaze. “Actually, we’re not—uh, we’re just friends.”

The woman’s smile widened knowingly, her eyes twinkling. “Sure, sweetheart. Friends. I’ve seen enough ‘friends’ like you two in my day to last me a lifetime.” 

She left you standing there, words caught in your throat, while you tried to brush off the fluttering in your chest, and by the time Theo returned with your butterbeers, you were still blushing furiously, trying to process the shopkeeper's words. Her knowing smile lingered in your mind, making you acutely aware of the way your body seemed to hum in content whenever Theo was near.

“What’s with you?” he asked, handing you your drink.

You hesitated, searching his face for any hint of awareness, but his expression was relaxed, oblivious. “Nothing,” you muttered, taking a sip and forcing yourself to meet his eyes. But the word “couple” echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you weren’t so sure you could ignore it.

You knew she wasn't the only one to have thought you and Theo were dating. You weren't stupid nor oblivious; you'd both known about the rumors floating around Hogwarts. The ones that said you and Theo were boyfriend and girlfriend, the ones that said you were in love with each other, even the ones that said you had to have fucked at least once (which, no, you hadn't!).

Though, you couldn’t blame people for thinking that way. With the way Theo would always brush a strand of hair behind your ear, spoil you with gifts, bury his face in your neck when you hugged, even casually kiss your cheek when he bid you goodbye—it made sense people assumed such things. But still, all of it was just platonic, right?

As you sipped your butterbeer, trying to calm the strange mix of emotions swirling inside you, Theo picked up where he'd left off, flipping through records again. His fingers brushed against yours as he handed you another one to examine, and the brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through you.

"You should get this one," he said, pointing to a cover adorned with a dragon riding a broomstick. "It's got some decent tracks."

You took the record, trying to focus on the music instead of the warmth of his hand against yours. "Yeah, maybe," you replied, pretending to study the cover intently.

"Maybe?" Theo repeated, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Come on, don't leave me hanging. You've gotta have an opinion." He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke, "Besides, I think the dragon looks adorable on that broom."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the closeness, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. It took all your willpower not to lean into him, to savor the intimacy of the moment. "Alright, alright," you relented with a chuckle, holding up the record. "I'll take it. For you."

Theo grinned, satisfaction etched on his features. "Excellent choice. Now, let's pay for these and get out of here before you embarrass me further with your doubting of my impeccable taste."

Theo led you to the counter, setting the record upon the counter. The shopkeeper, who had returned to arranging a display of limited edition CDs, looked up and smiled. 

"This looks like a treasure, you two," she said, ringing up the item with practiced efficiency. "The young wizard definitely has good taste."

She nodded towards you, winking, and for a moment, you wondered if she would bring up your earlier exchange. But instead, she wrapped your selection in a brown paper bag and slid it across the counter. "Enjoy!"

Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, dropping a few galleons onto the counter. "Here you go," he said to the shopkeeper, an easy, charismatic smile playing on his lips.

"Wait, Theo," you interjected, reaching for your own purse. "I can pay for myself. You don't need to buy my record."

But Theo waved you off dismissively. "Nah, don't worry about it. Consider it a gift from me to you." He winked playfully, flashing you a crooked grin. "Besides, I'm the one who insisted you get it, remember? It's only fair I foot the bill."

Your heart fluttered traitorously at his words, at the easy affection in his tone. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. "Well...thank you then," you managed, ducking your head shyly. "That's really sweet of you."

Theo shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a pleased gleam in his eye. “It’s what I’m here for.”

As you stepped out of the shop and back onto the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, Theo draped an arm casually around your shoulders. "So, where to now?" he asked, guiding you down the road. "We could head over to Zonko's, see if they have anything new and ridiculous... And potentially dangerous." 

You hesitated, feeling the weight of Theo's arm around your shoulders, the warmth seeping through your robes. Normally, you'd be all for exploring Zonko's, reveling in their eccentric and often hazardous products. But tonight, everything felt different.

"I don't know, Theo," you mumbled, glancing around at the deepening shadows. "It's getting pretty late. Maybe we should just head back to the castle?"

There was a flicker of disappointment in Theo's eyes, but he nodded understandingly. "Yeah, okay." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing you, then holding out his hand, offering you a way to apparate together. "Ready?" 

You nodded, placing your hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle, his palm slightly rough against your softer skin. With a twist of his wrist, Theo activated the apparition charm, and suddenly the world blurred around you.

When the colors settled, you found yourself standing in front of the Hogwarts gates, Theo still holding your hand. He let go slowly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Made it in one piece," he said, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

He fell into step beside you as you walked towards the girls' dormitories, his long legs easily keeping pace with your shorter strides. The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that came from years of friendship and shared experiences.

As you approached the door to your dormitory, Theo halted abruptly. 

"Well, until next time, princess," he quipped, giving you a mock salute. "Try not to dream too much about me, hmm?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips, and you couldn't help but return it, your heart skipping a beat at the flirty remark. "I make no promises," you retorted sarcastically, reaching for the doorknob.

Theo chuckled, the sound low and rich. He opened his mouth, seemed to ponder something for a moment, then spoke with exaggerated gravity, “I must bid you adieu, my trusty companion! Until the morrow!" 

He clasped his hands together dramatically, as if holding an invisible cane, complete with an imaginary top hat on his head.

Your laughter bubbled up unexpectedly, a sudden burst of joy at his antics. "You're so cute," you managed to gasp out between giggles, still grinning widely.

Theo froze mid-dramatic pose, his eyes widening. "What?" he sputtered.

Before he could react further, you added hastily, "Uh, I said you look like shit. Bye!" With that, you yanked open the dormitory door and practically dove inside, slamming it shut behind you.

The next day, you somehow found yourself in his room. You'd contemplated avoiding him altogether until you figured out your feelings, but who were you kidding? You could never say no to him when he asked you to hang out.

Theo sat by the windowsill, staring out at the sprawling grounds below. The setting sunlight cast a warm glow across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight scruff on his chin.

As he lost himself in thought, he became vaguely aware of movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing over, he stared at you, sprawled out on his bed flat on your back, a book propped up above your head as you read lazily.

Theo pushed the window open wider, allowing the evening breeze to carry in the scent of damp earth and rain. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking a slow drag as he gazed out at the sky. He exhaled slowly, watching the wisps dissipate into the evening air.

As you paused your reading for a moment, your gaze drifted over to Theo's silhouette by the window, the glow of his cigarette bright against the dim light. A familiar annoyance stirred within you, and you closed the book with a soft thud.

"Teddy, you know I hate it when you smoke around me," you said, trying to keep your tone light even as you wrinkled your nose in distaste. The acrid smell always lingered, clinging to his clothes and hair. You knew it wasn't fair to nag him, but old habits died hard.

Theo turned to face you fully, blowing out a stream of smoke before flicking the ash onto the windowsill. “I suppose I'm just a terrible friend then, aren't I?” he drawled, though there was no real bite to his words. “But tell me, Y/N, what would you prefer I do instead? Sit here and watch you sprawl across my bed like a lazy house cat all afternoon?”

You remained perfectly still, arms draped by your sides, book forgotten on your stomach. "Sounds like a plan to me," you replied nonchalantly, closing your eyes as if settling in for a nice nap.

The tension in the room seemed to shift, the air growing heavier with unspoken things. You could sense Theo's gaze on you, but you refused to acknowledge it, pretending you hadn't noticed the subtle change in his demeanor. Maybe if you acted like nothing was amiss, he would too.

Theo took another slow drag from his cigarette as he studied your profile, noting the slight furrowing of your brow as you pretended to drift off to sleep. After a moment, he stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and leaned against the windowsill, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I have a better idea," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "How about you tell me now why you were acting so weird yesterday when I came back to the record store?"

You felt your cheeks flush slightly at Theo's question, memories of the shopkeeper's words flashing through your mind unbidden. "I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I wasn't acting weird."

Even as the denial left your lips, you knew Theo could see right through it. He always had, ever since you'd first met him all those years ago. That uncanny ability to read you like an open book was part of what made him such an incredible friend...and lately, maybe something more.

Theo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Save it, Y/N. I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours from here. Why are you dodging the question? Just tell me what happened."

A deep breath escaped you as you finally surrendered to the truth, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Okay, fine. It was just...that lady behind the counter. When you left to go get us butterbeers, she told me you and I make a beautiful couple... and I guess it shook me a little."

Theo fell silent for a long moment, his gaze searching yours intently. When he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "A beautiful couple, huh?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "And this bothers you because...?"

Still staring up at the ceiling, you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you tried to articulate your feelings. "Because! We're friends! And everyone keeps assuming that... you know. That there's something more between us."

Theo pushed himself away from the window, moving closer to where you lay across his bed. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he rested his hand on the mattress.

"Well, maybe they're not wrong," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "Maybe there is something more between us."

Your heart began to race as Theo invaded your personal space, the warmth radiating from his body making you suddenly hyperaware of every inch of skin that brushed against yours. You swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a facade of calm.

"Teddy..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not... We... We're friends, right?" Even as the words left your mouth, you couldn't help but wonder if they were true anymore.

In a swift motion, Theo leaned down above you, bringing his face mere inches from yours as you lay flat on your back, giving you an upside-down view of his face looming over you. His hands found purchase on the mattress, holding himself aloft without touching you, and in that moment, you could've sworn your heart stopped beating. 

"Say we're just friends one more time," he challenged. "I dare you." 

As Theo's challenge hung heavy in the air, you found yourself unable to speak. Finally, after what felt like ages of silence, you managed to whisper, "I... What are we then, Theo?"

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nervousness. But there was something else there too – curiosity, perhaps? Or maybe hope? Whatever it was, it was clear that you weren't going to back down this time.

"More," Theo breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, slowly, tentatively, he closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

It was chaste, almost innocent—but it sent sparks racing through your veins nonetheless. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you returned the kiss, marveling at the way Theo's lips moved against yours with such tender precision. This was new territory for both of you, and yet somehow, it felt so incredibly right.

Theo held the position, hovering above you with his hands gripping the mattress, his nose lightly brushing against your chin. He didn't deepen the kiss or try to pull you closer; instead, he simply lingered, savoring the feeling of your lips meeting his for the very first time.

As Theo pulled away from the kiss, you found yourself staring up at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Wow, I, um— you—" you stammered, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

But before you could finish your sentence, Theo cut you off with a soft chuckle. "Shut up, Y/N," he murmured, his fingers grazing your cheek as he leaned in once more.

[miokki]

✦ ONE MORE KISS!

✰ synopsis ; mass amounts of smooching them right before leaving/them leaving for something

✰ character(s) ; alhaitham x fem?!reader, ayato, lyney x gn!reader

✰ warnings: slightly suggestive on alhaitham’s?!

✰ notes: guys i kinda lost the plot/went insane with lyney—i wrote him a river for what was supposed to be 400 words. also not proof read bc im too tired for that.

❈ ALHAITHAM

you eye your figure in the bathroom mirror, your pupils locked on your lips as you applied the bold red, vibrant lipstick. every angle of your lips receives meticulous attention before you smack your lips together. the nail of your pinky finger meet the corners of your mouth, cleaning up any smudges you may have left. you step back, the soles of your shoes echoing off the bathroom tiles as you take in your makeup and outfit for the day. a smile spreads upon your lips at your proud work before you exit the bathroom.

a shiver runs through your body as you leave, the bathroom being considerably warm from your presence, a sharp contrast from the coldness of the rest of your house. nonetheless, you continue towards the other side of the house-diverting your body around the odd decorations that have suddenly appeared over the many months. your eyes shift at the many tables and stand around your house, searching for your handbag, seemingly placed carelessly from late last night.

yet, there was a particularly new scent in the air as you finally spotted it. you waft it in, the smell bringing you comfort. ah, coffee.

evidently forgetting about your bag or the need to get to work on time, you make your way to the kitchen. your eyes wandering around the corner to find your lover, in a pair of shorts and a loosely fitted, black tank top. the curves of your lips turning upwards as you watch him from afar, his fluffy grey hair in front of his eyes as he sleepily sips from his mug.

alhaitham takes several moments before he recognises your presence-finding you in the corners of his eyes as he rubbed his eyes open. his hair tucked to the sides of his face before pausing when you catch his eye.

"good morning to you, too." his croaky morning voice travels across the room.

you giggle at the display. you're quick to leave your leaning spot as you step towards your boyfriend. the sound of the mug vibrates in your ear as it's placed down on the counter in front of alhaitham, seemingly waiting for your embrace.

as you close the distance, your arms wrap themselves around your lover's neck like muscle memory. the muscles in your arms receive a satisfying stretch, in which you sigh. with the little space between you two, you stare up at him— the point of your noses closing the gap between. eyes glazing over another you gaze at his crimson-turquoise eyes as he stares back into you, his gaze softer than his usual, sharp look.

"good morning, my love," you hum, your voice resembling a honey-smooth memory.

alhaitham's hand wrapped around your lower torso, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back while the other remains at rest. his body swayed to the quiet atmosphere of your home, his eyes blinking slowly.

your boyfriend eyes open once again, this time intently staring at your attire. a sudden frown now on his thin lips.

"are you leaving for work already?"

oh!

"right. unfortunately so," you voice with a bit of reluctance in your tone-your head turning away from him before returning. "um, well i had to head off in like a minute ago, so i suppose i have some time to spare."

"habibti, what do you mean you had to leave–"

before he can finish, your lipstick-covered lips are on his. the lingering, bitter taste of coffee staining his lips as your right hand leaves his neck to cup his cheek. yet alhaitham becomes the one to deepen the kiss his tongue sliding into your mouth, your tongues twining around another. you pull away from the passionate kiss, your eyes now open as you observe your haitham's expression of longing. is that puppy eyes you see?

"okayy, maybe just one more," you say, your other hand now cupping his other cheek as you pull his face towards your lips.

your first attack is his cheekbones continuing to say 'one more' before leading to his forehead and some of his cloudy, grey hair, marking him with your lips. your lips' next destination his tall nose, both the tip and the bridge. unable to hold back, your continuous giggles fill both yours and his pair of ears as your knees bend slightly from your enjoyment. meanwhile, alhaitham is bathing in the attention you're showering him with, although the growing heat against his cheeks only seems to be getting hotter.

your tiny giggles vibrate in alhaitham’s ears and in his heart as you speak, “okay, this one is the final kiss,” you declare. your tone is playful as you pull him into a kiss—a light airy one, a peck on the lips.

after, your hands slide down from his face and to his forearms, gripping them softly as you step back. you observe alhaitham, his slouched, sleepy figure is no more-now replaced with a flustered mess of a man avoiding your gaze. the rest of his body, hot and still half-asleep from your affectionate attack. a breathy laugh escapes you, staring at the many kiss marks you've stamped onto the many angles of your face.

"i suppose, my spare minute it up, how unfortunate. i'll see you when home, lovely. miss me on you day off will, ya?"

❈ KAMISATO AYATO

the light smell of rain after a shower always seemed to bring a certain amount of comfort to your soul. the world becomes a quiet place whenever it makes its entrance, humans squirm at the thought of getting spattered on without their permission. it's a fun thought, however you are the same, you are human. as you, yourself, have waited for the rain to go on its way before going out on rather cut-short list of errands in inazuma city.

even after the length of your patience no longer has to stretch, the constant, stable sound of droplets has made you rather sleepy. perhaps, you should have listened to ayato when he suggested a indoors day together, covered in several blankets and the duvet, sharing each other's warmth through the snuggling. and while you did indulge for two hours, max, you couldn't help but twitch at unsolved problems you've yet to finish. the guilt of it eating you whole as you silently rolled off your futon placed on the floor and onto the tatami mat. your footsteps light and feather like as you dressed yourself before sitting down to watch the rain.

you sigh, pushing yourself up onto your feet and turning way from the door you've been waiting to leave since afternoon. your cold feet hit the floor quietly as you make your way around the kamisato estate and into the room you and your husband shared.

your breath hitches, your body tensing at the sight of the silky, ruffled, pastel-blue of his hair. ayato's back facing away from your view, the blankets covering everything below his shoulders. perhaps it's a guilty pleasure of yours

-staring at your husband-yet it's the rare moment you stop to savour. the vulnerability of it all. the less ambitious side of him, the man who sits and has all the time in the universe for his loved ones. you love that he shares it with you, you adore it.

you take a step forward towards ayato, only for him to stir in his sleep. the sound of a soft, throaty groans eluding him followed by a series of subtle shifts in his positions. unable to keep yourself from looking, you find him continuing to move until your lover has turned himself facing you. ayato's pale complexion staring back at you as an arm escapes the covers. he reaches out, reaching to you that no longer lies by his side.

your husband resumes his seemingly agitated fusses, his breath slows as his eyes begin to open. with ayato's head slightly lifted above he squints up at you. stares up at you. confused, his hand lazily placed in your usual spot.

your lover whines, "dear, what are you doing?" you tilted your head, playing coy, "what ever could you mean, my love?"

a sigh, an unappeased one left his pink lips as his ocean deep eyes gazed at you. his pastel-blue strands of hair falling over his eyes as ayato spoke.

"i refuse to believe that you're going out, not after noon." ayato's figure more up right as disapproves of what is to come.

you only hum, "so, what if i am? and what is it you're willing to do to get me to stay?"

you slid to your knees, your knees feeling the warmth of the futon as you close the gap between the two. two pairs of eyes now level with one another, ready for a trade.

"oh? and i thought i would be getting compensation for the time i lost without you by my side. yet, you want something in return for your absence," ayato pondered.

somehow, it has become your responsibility to be as your husband's side and fairly so. he says it as if it's your duty, as if the only person in the world who can is you. and your glad your husband has a good head on him, as he would be correct. it's yours for the taking and it will always be closed for anyone else but you. that you're sure of.

"¡ suppose, i could indulge in a little compensation," you answer reaching out to ayato's chin, taking it between your index and your thumb.

and then you bring your lips quick and close to his cheek before kiss his plumb, soft skin. you pull away, yet before ayato can get another word in you kiss his other cheek, and then under his eye. your lips littering as many kisses as you can before you run out of breath.

you take a shaky inhale, your fingers shooing the hair from your face. seeing past your hand, you watch a luminescent smile seep through ayato's metal, cold exterior. his rounded cheeks painted over with pink watercolours, his eyes forever an ocean-like blue.

"there," your chest continues to raise and lower, gradually returning to its usual pace. however, with ayato your 'usual' tends to vanish with just simple touches. "is this compensation enough for you, my lord?" irony coiled around your tone.

ayato stares into you, his eyes laced with sincerity, "i believe the rightful compromise is your return, my love." your heart throbs in secrecy.

"and i will, hun. i just have to run a few errands, my mind will not rest until i have." just thinking about the return has raised a smile on your lips.

❈ LYNEY

in the many corners of teyvat the world becomes calm during evenings and nights, more bearable for some. however, not one place inside or out can replicate a fontainian night, not to par, not with the same signature. the night is soft, a comforting feeling permanently weaving itself through the dark blue. a renowned chill waves through the air as fontaine and its people are awake for an outing. while the streets aren't busy many stroll on the many streets there are to walk on, usually shopping, dining or visiting what the opera epiclese has to offer. often a show one of its kind, and tonight; lyney the magician.

in your opinion, besides trials, lyney is your favourite stage to watch at the opera epiclese. perhaps it's personal bias as he is your lover and all, yet there is a way he glows on a stage that bewitches your senses, fries your heart and mind into a frenzy of feelings. lyney was meant for the stage, whether it be big or two seats at a dinner table, he was born to be seen. that itself is a hill you're willing to die on.

however, it seems a recurring voice in your boyfriend’s head has allowed him to believe otherwise, even for a singular night. there’s hurt in your core watching it, the uncoordinated rambles leaving his pink lips and the worry in his tone making your eyebrows furrow. the bright lamp lights illuminating both of your faces, however, the intensity of them is more than enough to make you squint. yet, among the rambles you find yourself leaning against a wooden crate backstage and staring at him, his hair unnerve and frantic from constant fingers running through and his forehead shimmering from the anxious sweat.

the magician paces back and forth between two spots, the way he's twisting around in the same spot making you believe that the floorboards may give in before he stops. his thoughts racing out loud he sputters, "—how did i do this before-i swear i wasn't as nervous as last time. do you think i've forgotten something?"

"i think you're forgetting how wonderful of a performer you are, lyney," you say with an aim to comfort him.

his pitch gains height, "but your view of me is different than everyone else! what if can't manage to entertain the audience this time?"

your eyes pause in one place as you continue to follow lyney's stressful strutting. his movements coming to a stop as he plants both the soles of his boots on the ground, his toes facing you. his lovely lilac eyes solely on you, awaiting your response, hoping for a hint of reassurance. a thing that you will gladly grant over and over again.

"sweets, you know very well that you can capture an audience, even with just your smile. you captured me with it." your answer sounded with more hurt in your heart than you would put merit for. yet, you forever wish he could see himself through your own admiring eyes.

"dear, you say it as if i've taken your heart prisoner in," he trails off, his usual, playful tone slowly returning back to the world.

you push off the box, taking several steps forward, your steps causing the planks to squeak. the wood—old and beaten, unafraid of appearances and allowed to be its withered self at the expense of being only for performers, away from the rest of the world.

"oh, but you have, dear. haven't you, lyney?" there's a certain amount of swing in your step as your voice embraces a melodramatic feature.

you observe his unsure expression as you near. unsure of what you mean, unsure of what your planning mind is thinking and unsure of what you're feeling, for your mask of mist is overwhelming.

you stand close to him, only a small gap between your feet, "yet, i must confess i want my heart to be forever yours. don't hold it in the hands i've placed it in. carefully hold it next to yours as i've done with your own." your voice is soft, your fingers delicately guiding themselves to the left of his chest, a palm pressing against the frills and fabric that lay before his heart.

his hazed eyes meet your gaze as you look up, imagining the scent of lavender as you study lyney's gaze. his breath is ragged, your hand moving to the rhythm of his lungs working. your beloved doesn't respond to your request, he doesn't know how. yet, you know he'll follow, even through thin silence and a fluttering breath.

you smile, propping yourself up onto the wooden surface propped up by the wall, a large vanity of sorts. you lift a hand motioning lyney towards you.

"come, let me braid your hair," you say, the topic from before becoming something to now ponder over.

he's quick to move back into you, in between your legs as you comb a hand through his ashy blonde locks. first, a nail runs from his hairline to create a part in his hair, although most of his hair is sectioned off to the side you're not going to braid. you comb another hand through the hair, the strands soft between fingers as you section a part close to his face before splitting it into three. taking one of the outer strands, you lay it over the top of the middle strand before repeating the process several times.

"lyney, my love, could you please turn around," you request, switching hands and tightening your grasp on his hair.

your lover winces and you let out a chesty chuckle as he begins to face you with a pout. you observe the unfinished work placed on the side of his face, before eying him. a sudden urge nudges your mind, yet you indulge by placing a kiss on his cheek and then asking him to turn around for you again.

"h-hey!" he exclaims, pink slightly airbrushed onto his pale cheeks.

you tease some more, looking up at the clock in the corner of your eye; motioning to it, "you choose, you have ten minutes before you're out on stage."

you swear you heard a hushed huff as he faced away from you once again. lyney’s hair is at your disposal as you continue braid, your fingers raking through both his hair and scalp as you continue to intergrade more strands into the singular plait behind his ear. your eyes graze his bare skin—specifically the back his neck and shoulders. lips getting dangerously close, your breath caressing your partner’s shoulder before the two connect in short.

a smile widens on your lips as you feel your boyfriend slightly squirm under your touch. yet, you're inclined to kiss his pretty skin, leading from the outs of his shoulder to the point where his neck and back meet. you pepper many of your kisses until his skin feels feverish. until you have braided to 'til there is only a tuff at the end of the braid.

you tie the hair off, sweeping it behind his ear as he begins to face you, "thank you," he breathes out.

"you'll do great, i promise." you cup his cheek, "your nerves aren't out of the blue lyney, it happens."

you press one more kiss, this time against the plump of his cheek.

"i’ll see you out in the crowd, my love."

you only reply with a smile.

do not copy of repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2024

[angelsuecult]

bundle of joy | s. crosby

warnings: none that I know of?

summary: Sid feels guilty about missing too much time with your newborn baby and is doing his best to keep up on a particularly restless night

wordcount: 4.6k

a/n: back with some girldad sid! I hope you guys like this one as much as i did writing it! also im going to try to post more often as long as i keep having ideas! anyway enjoy!

The house feels softer tonight, like it’s finally taken a breath. Sidney’s home, and the weight that usually sits in your chest—the one that settles in every time he’s away—has lightened. You’re both exhausted in different ways, piecing together this new rhythm of parenthood. There’s a quietness about the evening, a gentle peace, as you watch Sid watching her, mesmerized by the little miracle beside him. It’s almost like he’s studying her, absorbing every tiny expression, every noise and stretch.

The game’s over, the travel bags are set aside, and he’s finally here, laying with your daughter with the kind of admiration he once reserved for stepping onto the ice. Sid has this tenderness that makes him almost reverent, as if he’s still in awe that she’s real, that she’s his.

Dinner dishes are still in the sink, and a warm, sleepy atmosphere hangs over everything as you sit nearby, watching Sidney and your baby girl on the floor, her little cheeks pressed against her blanket for tummy time.

Sid is lying on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms, totally captivated by her tiny features, the way she furrows her brow in concentration, her delicate fingers splaying against the blanket as she wobbles slightly. She’s getting stronger every day, her head lifting just a bit higher each time.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you know Sid has been feeling the weight of being away—the way he hovers around her every chance he gets, like he’s making up for all the moments he can’t be there. She’s only ten weeks old, yet his heart aches each time he misses even a second of her life.

As if sensing his thought, she makes a delighted little noise, her whole face lighting up, and he laughs softly. “Okay, okay, I hear you,” he says, reaching out to gently tickle her sides, watching her squirm with joy. “You’re just a bundle of joy, aren’t you?”

She kicks her chubby legs, her little hands pressed into the soft blanket as she lifts her head, wobbling slightly as she tries to hold her balance. And every time her gaze lands back on her dad, her face lights up in the sweetest smile.

“Look at you, so strong already,” Sidney cooed, his voice soft and full of pride. “You’re making Daddy look bad, you know that? I don’t think I was doing half of this at your age.”

She gurgled back, a happy, nonsensical sound, her wide eyes never leaving his face. Sidney felt his heart squeeze, a warmth spreading through his chest as he reached out to brush a gentle hand over her back, his fingers feather-light, reassuring. The start of the season had taken more time than he wanted away from his girls, but this moment — her looking at him like he was her entire world — was exactly what he’d been longing for.

Every few minutes, he would pick up one of her favorite toys, holding it out for her in an attempt to keep her entertained. But no matter how he waved the little stuffed bear or shook the rattle, her attention never strayed far from him.

“She’s obsessed with you,” you say softly, smiling from where you’re watching them. You’ve seen her go wild for her toys and the bright colors of her mobile, but nothing lights her up like Sid’s voice, his gentle touches, the way he looks at her with that unending awe.

Sid laughs, a warm, almost shy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes on her. “I think I’m the obsessed one,” he replies, unable to stop himself from smiling as she wiggles her way closer, her tiny hands clutching at the blanket beneath her as she babbles at him.

“You’re not even gonna look at your favorite toys?” he teases softly, nudging one of the soft blocks with his finger to catch her eye. But she only giggles, her face lighting up at his voice, and he laughs, clearly thrilled she’s so focused on him.

She lets out a soft, happy coo, reaching her chubby little hand toward Sid. He beams, taking her hand in his much larger one, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “You’re just the sweetest little thing, aren’t you, princess?”

She makes a delighted noise, all bright eyes and tiny, wiggling fingers, her whole little body lighting up at the sound of his voice. She watches him with utter fascination, her eyes tracking his every move as he leans closer, making a gentle raspberry sound that makes her giggle. The little coos and gurgles that follow are filled with pure joy, as if she can’t believe how lucky she is to have her dad right there.

He lifts a little plush penguin, giving it a soft shake to make it squeak, trying to get her attention. “Look, sweet pea, it’s Mr. Waddles,” he coos, giving the toy a gentle wave. But she just blinks at it once, then goes right back to staring at him with a look of pure adoration. He can’t help but laugh, warmth filling his voice as he lowers the toy.

“Oh, so I’m the favorite, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Sorry, Mr. Waddles, you’ve been replaced.” His voice is soft, tender, the same way he speaks to you in quiet moments. It’s clear she has him wrapped around her tiny finger.

Sidney grinned, scooting even closer, so his face was right next to hers. The two of them shared a silent understanding, a bond that needed no words. She reached out with one tiny hand, resting it on his cheek, her fingers barely grazing his skin, and Sid could feel his heart swell.

He lifts a soft, crinkly book to her, giving it a shake. “You don’t want to play with this one, either? This is a good one.” She gives him an adorable little frown before her eyes settle back on his face, and he can’t help but laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says, dropping the book and settling onto his elbow so he’s even closer to her. “I guess I’ll just have to keep entertaining you myself.”

He talks to her, telling her about the game last night, how they pulled through in the third period, even throwing in some dramatics, his eyes lighting up as he describes each detail in a gentle, funny voice. She stares up at him, her gaze never wavering, and every so often, he pauses to brush a finger over her tiny hand or to press a kiss to her head, whispering little things only meant for her.

He let her tiny fingers grip his finger, her little hand wrapping around it with surprising strength. “You know, I missed you guys this week. Daddy’s been gone too much, huh?” The guilt he’d been carrying all week melted away, at least for now. Being here, watching her, feeling her little fingers on his skin — this was exactly where he wanted to be.

When she seemed to tire a bit, her arms wobbling from the effort of tummy time, Sidney gently rolled her onto her back and scooped her up, bringing her close to his chest. She snuggled in without hesitation, a satisfied little sigh escaping her lips, and Sidney pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

You laughed, shaking your head. “If she wasn’t overdue for a bath, I’d leave you two to your little love fest. But she’s getting a bit—stinky.”

Sidney pretended to gasp, looking down at her with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Stinky? You, my little angel? No way.”

Her eyes still fixed on him, clearly reluctant to leave her special time with him. Sidney chuckled, lifting her up into his arms with the same gentleness he always did. “Alright, stinky butt, it’s bath time. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

He padded down the hall toward the bathroom, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her close. She gave a little sigh, already so at ease in his arms, and he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You smell like trouble, you know that?” he murmured, amused by the little puff of air she let out in response.

He took his time, cherishing every moment, his hands gentle and steady as he helped wash each tiny arm, each pudgy little leg. She never took her eyes off him, her smile wide and pure, her complete adoration for him clear in every happy babble, every soft coo.

As you dry her off, Sidney’s hands are gentle as they towel her tiny body, careful and tender in a way that only comes from a love he’s discovering more deeply every day.

You watch him with a soft smile, knowing he’s been missing moments like these more than he’d ever admit. With the season in full swing, he’s been away more often than he’d like, and though you always reassure him, he still carries the weight of wanting to be here for every second, every milestone.

He gently lifts her into his arms, cradling her close as he turns to you with a soft smile. “Come on, let’s get this little one to bed,” he whispers, carrying her to the nursery, dimly lit and perfectly peaceful, designed just for her. Her crib is tucked beneath a mobile that slowly spins with soft woodland creatures.

His movements gentle and careful as he laid her down on the changing table, her little legs kicking out as made tiny noises, those adorable baby coos that melted his heart. He grinned, running a thumb over her soft skin. “Let’s get you ready for bed, sweetheart,” he whispered.

He dressed her slowly, savoring every little wiggle, every soft sound she made. “You’re gonna try and sleep so well for us tonight, huh?” he cooed, securing her diaper and slipping her into the soft pajamas that you had picked out earlier. They were navy-colored, adorned with little stars—your favorite, and now his too.

You watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a sleepy smile. This had become your nightly routine: bath time, lullabies, and then watching Sid handle the last bit of getting her dressed and ready for bed.

Sid turned toward you, holding your little girl close to his chest, her tiny hand resting against his shoulder. “She’s perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the calm of the moment.

“She is,” you agreed softly, stepping into the room. You rested your hand on his back, the familiar warmth of his body bringing you comfort. Despite everything, you had never once doubted what a good father Sid was, or the love he had for both of you. But you knew how much he hated missing out, and that guilt sometimes crept into moments like these.

She let out a soft, sleepy sigh, her little body snuggling further into Sid’s chest. You both fell silent, watching her drift off in his arms. These moments were precious—the stillness, the quietness that settled over your little family as the day wound down.

Sid carefully placed her in her crib, pulling her soft, knitted blanket over her. His hand lingered on her for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her breathing, as if committing every detail to memory. He turned back to you, taking your hand and leading you out of the nursery, quietly closing the door behind him.

In the dim light of your bedroom, the fatigue of the day began to weigh on you. Sid helped you slip into bed, pulling the covers up as he joined you. His hand found yours beneath the blanket, squeezing gently.

These days, Sid’s schedule seemed to pull him away more than either of you wanted, and though you hadn’t said a word, he could see it. The way motherhood clung to you—something beautiful but heavy. Sid hadn’t known it could be like this: the love, yes, but also the guilt, especially in moments like these when he could hold his tiny daughter, damp curls pressed to her head and sleepy eyes blinking up at him, feeling like he'd missed so much already. He was trying to make up for lost time, just as much for you as for her.

It had been a whirlwind since her birth, every day a blend of deep love, a bit of exhaustion, and a growing sense of awe at the little life together you had created. The guilt had slowly crept in, especially when he saw how naturally and constantly you tended to her. You never made him feel like he was falling short, never once said he wasn’t doing enough. But Sid felt the weight of what he could be doing — what he wanted to do for both of you.

He’d started noticing the little things, the way your shoulders slumped when you finally sank into bed at the end of the day, or how you’d stare off with a distant look as if you were running through a mental list of the million things you had to do. It struck him that you were tired in a way he hadn’t quite understood before becoming a dad. This was a different kind of tired — a kind that meant you were giving every part of yourself.

Sid had long made a silent vow to himself when she was born. Whenever he got the chance, he would take on the nightshift — he’d be the one to wake up whenever she cried, needed comfort, a bottle, or just to be held. Whatever it took to let you rest, he was committed to it.

The night was thick with stillness, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand. Sidney lay with one arm wrapped around you, listening to the gentle sound of your breathing, each rise and fall a comfort he’d come to rely on.

Just as he started to drift off, a faint cry cut through the quiet, little and insistent. It was that particular sound he was learning to recognize—It was just past 1 a.m. when he heard her. She stirred first, little whimpers escaping before her cry broke out, sharp and insistent, as if she were testing her strength. He could feel you stirring, instinctively moving to sit up, but he was quicker.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he whispered, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I got it, baby. Go back to sleep.”

You murmured something, half asleep, but the warmth of his hand and his reassurance kept you in place. Satisfied that you were settling back down, he slipped out of bed, letting you settle back into the warmth of the blankets. The nursery was just down the hall, but as he walked through the quiet house, he felt his heart swell with excitement, knowing he’d get these next few hours with his little girl.

When he entered the nursery, he found her lying in her crib, tiny fists waving in the air, her face scrunched up in a way that was almost comical.

“Hey there, little one,” he murmured, reaching down to scoop her up. “You miss me already, huh? Can’t blame you. I missed you too.”

She wiggled slightly, her little face pressing against his chest as he held her close. Her cries softened, her tiny hands curling into his shirt. Sid could feel the small weight of her body, the warmth of her cheek against him, and it made his heart ache with love. These were the moments he’d missed, and he could feel just how much they meant to him now, holding her close in the stillness of the night.

As he swayed gently, he whispered to her, his voice barely above a murmur, ““What’s the matter, huh? You missing some snuggles? Or maybe you’re just checking in on me, making sure I’m still on duty?” He smiled softly, rubbing her back with gentle circles, just like he’d seen you do a hundred times. ““Well, I missed you, too, you know. Just because I’m over there with Mom doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you.”

She let out a small, contented sigh, her face nuzzling into his shoulder, and Sid chuckled softly. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. “See? We got this.”

Once she settled, Sid carefully placed her back in the crib, watching her for a few long moments to make sure she was comfortable. Her little body relaxed, her face softening as she drifted back to sleep, and Sid let out a quiet sigh of relief.

After a while Sid slipped back into bed beside you. “She went down easy,” he whispered, a hint of pride in his voice as he kissed your shoulder again.

The second time she woke, Sid felt her cries before he fully registered them, his instincts kicked in before he was even conscious. He was almost up when he noticed you stir, your hand reaching out instinctively. Before you could lift your head, Sid’s hand was there, resting over yours.

“It’s okay, babe,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Stay in bed, I’ve got her.”

You opened one eye, looking at him, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion in your gaze. “Are you sure? You’ve barely slept yourself.”

Sid just smiled, brushing a hand over your cheek. “I don’t mind. She’s only this little once, right?”

You smiled sleepily, sinking back into the sheets as he stood, heading once more to the nursery. This time, her cries were a little louder, more insistent, and when he picked her up, he could feel her squirming, fussing against him. He rubbed her back, bouncing gently as he paced the room.

“Oh, I know, sweetie. You’re really mad this time, huh?” He chuckled softly, walking over to the window, showing her the soft moonlight outside. “Nothing like a good cry in the middle of the night to get all that extra energy out, huh? Are you working on your lung power?”

She hiccuped, her cries faltering slightly as she listened to his voice. Sid kept talking, the sound of his soft words seeming to calm her. “There’s my strong girl. You can tell me all about it, I’ll listen. I’m all ears. But maybe we could talk about it in a whisper? Just for now? Mom’s still sleeping.”

Her little head leaned into his shoulder, her cries softening to soft, hiccupy breaths as he continued to sway, whispering to her.

“There we go, that’s it. I knew you had it in you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, feeling the warmth of her tiny body as she settled against him. “You know, sometimes Dad needs these little reminders, too. I miss you during the day, you know that? So I don’t mind these late-night check-ins. Means I get a little extra time with my girl.”

After a while, she was calmer, her breaths evening out, and Sid was able to settle her back into her crib. He brushed a hand over her hair, smiling as she nestled down, her tiny fist clutching her blanket. “Goodnight again, baby girl. Sleep tight, alright?”

As you both settled into sleep, Sid’s arm wrapped around your waist, you felt at peace. The challenges of new parenthood weren’t easy, but with Sid by your side, they felt just a little lighter.

It was the third time that night that Sid heard her cry. It was early—too early, the sun hadn’t even started to rise, and the world outside was still fast asleep. But inside, their baby girl’s cry pierced the silence, loud and insistent, the kind of hungry wail that signaled she was ready to eat now.

Sid blinked awake instantly, feeling the tiny pang of exhaustion in his body, but it didn’t matter. He could hear how deep you were sleeping beside him, finally getting the rest you so desperately needed. You didn’t stir, and he was relieved for that. He had promised he’d take care of everything tonight, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Sliding quietly out of bed, Sid moved through the hallway with practiced stealth, heading to the nursery. As soon as he entered the room, he found his baby girl squirming in her crib, her face scrunched up in frustration, those tiny fists waving in the air. Her cry was urgent but not frantic, a signal to him that she was uncomfortable, but also that she knew help was coming.

“Shh, I’m here, sweetheart,” Sid whispered, leaning over to scoop her into his arms. The moment she was against his chest, her cries softened a little, though her face still showed her impatience. He smiled, adjusting her tiny body against him, holding her close. “I know, baby girl, you’re hungry, huh? I’ve got you. Let’s go get your bottle.”

As if on cue, she let out another cry, and Sid chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Okay, okay, we’ll get you taken care of,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you a nice breakfast, yeah?”

He walked with her through the house, each creak of the floor carefully avoided as he carried her toward the kitchen. The house was still so dark, but Sid knew his way around even without lights. Her little head rested against his chest, her soft whimpers filling the air as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you fed in no time,” he murmured. He could feel her tiny heartbeat against his chest, the way her breath hitched every few seconds as she calmed down in his arms. It made his own heart swell with love. These were the moments he craved, the quiet, intimate times when it was just him and his daughter.

Sid carefully warmed the bottle, keeping one hand on her as she nestled against him. She was still hungry, still fussing, but being close to him seemed to soothe her just enough to stop the full-on crying. Once the bottle was ready, Sid tested the temperature before cradling her more securely in his arms.

“Alright, sweet girl, here we go,” he whispered, holding the bottle to her lips. She latched on immediately, those big, wide eyes locking on him, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

Sid walked them back to the nursery, her soft suckling the only sound in the stillness of the house. He sat down in the reclining chair, easing into it carefully as he watched her drink. His hand rested gently on her back, supporting her, while the other held the bottle steady.

“You’re getting so big,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. It was incredible how much she had grown in just 10 weeks. He couldn’t help but marvel at her every day—at her tiny fingers that clung to his hands, her soft cheeks that had filled out since the day she was born, and the way she gazed up at him, as if she already knew him completely.

As she finished the bottle, Sid wiped her mouth gently with a cloth before lifting her to his shoulder to burp her. “You did so good, baby girl,” he murmured, rubbing her back in slow circles. “I’m so proud of you.” It took a few moments, but eventually, a small, satisfied burp escaped her, and Sid chuckled quietly.

She was much more relaxed now, her body soft and pliant against his as he settled her back into his arms. He extended the recliner, shifting her to lay comfortably against his chest. Her head rested right over his heart, her tiny arm tucked under his, as if giving him a hug, while the other lay beside her face, curled into a little fist. Sid draped her small blanket over her, ensuring she was warm, then pulled a larger blanket around them both, tucking a pillow under his arms to keep her safe.

He looked down at her, her eyelids fluttering as she began to drift off, her breath evening out into soft little puffs. Sid couldn’t stop staring. The way her face softened as she fell asleep, the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest—it was everything. These were the moments he’d been missing, the ones he craved.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice full of love. “You’re just perfect, you know that?” His lips brushed against the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as he rocked the chair ever so slightly. He could feel her settling into him, her tiny body molding to his as if she belonged there, right over his heart.

Sid let out a quiet breath, overwhelmed by how grateful he felt. In this moment, there was nothing else—no guilt, no pressure, just him and his baby girl, wrapped in the quiet of the early morning. This was what he had missed. Not just the milestones, but the quiet, in-between moments. The way her body relaxed against his, the soft warmth of her skin, the trust she had in him to keep her safe.

“You know,” he whispered, “I’m so lucky to be your dad.” His voice was soft, full of emotion, even though she was too young to understand. “I’m gonna be here for you, no matter what. I’m always gonna take care of you.”

Her tiny hand twitched slightly, her fingers curling against his chest as she let out a soft sigh in her sleep. Sid smiled, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love.

“And your mom,” he added, his thoughts drifting back to you, peacefully asleep in the other room. “She’s the best, you know? She’s taking such good care of you—I’m just trying to keep up.” He chuckled quietly, brushing a finger gently along the curve of his daughter’s cheek. “But I’m getting there, baby girl. I’m getting there.”

The house remained quiet, the early morning still cloaked in darkness, but Sid didn’t mind. He would stay like this for as long as she needed, holding her close, listening to her soft breaths as she slept. He kissed her head again, inhaling the sweet scent of baby lotion and her natural warmth.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, for you. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the worries and the pressures, the things that made him doubt if he was doing enough. All that mattered was this—being here, being present, and making sure his little girl felt loved and safe.

As he rested his head back against the recliner, Sid kept one arm securely around her, the other resting on her back, his fingers lightly tracing patterns along her tiny spine. He couldn’t stop watching her. Every little movement she made, every soft sigh, was precious. He felt a deep sense of gratitude, knowing that despite the hard days, despite the exhaustion, he got to be a part of this—these quiet moments, these little pieces of magic that made it all worth it.

He couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect she was, every little detail of her face, her tiny nose and delicate eyelashes, the way her mouth twitched slightly in sleep. She was his whole world, and in that quiet, early-morning stillness, he felt a peace he’d never known before.

“You’re my whole heart, little one,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth and love. “Thank you for letting me be your dad. I promise I’m gonna do my best to be the dad you deserve.”

With that, he settled back, letting himself drift off with her tiny heartbeat pressed against his body, her soft breaths filling the quiet of the room as the first rays of dawn began to light up the sky.

[opal-owl-flight]

Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?

Absolutely.

I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.

Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes

Young 4? A bitch.

Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.

...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.

All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!

She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!

It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.

Marie...

...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...

"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"

Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.

"Watch out, Agent Four!"

"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"

Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.

Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.

When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.

She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."

4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.

The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.

She regains her spunk after saving the world.

------

Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.

She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.

"Youre late."

"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"

"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"

"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"

"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"

This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.

That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)

Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)

At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!

4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.

Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.

Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)

The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH

And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)

[figgrrr0]

Hii im new here! Found your blog by chance and I love how you write! Would you be able to write wanderer x jealous!reader on valentines day? Lets say Wanderer has got a lot of admirers from the akademiya and reader is just silently furious abt it but doesnt say anything. When Wanderer finds out he fucks them nicely and praise them/ reassures them <333

Apparently I struggle to do angry jealousy, I just make it sad... but it's light this time! And soft.

Also it feels so weird writing Wanderer as a name??

Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!

Valentine's with Wanderer

Character: Top!Wanderer/Scaramouche

Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst

Cw: Classic Scara misunderstandings, praise/reassurance, fingering, soft sex, slight angst(?) it's more hinted I guess

Plot: A little // Word count: 1.9k

Valentine's Day: a day of love, gifts, and showing appreciation for your partner.

Usually, everyone tries to take the day off, freeing up their schedule so that they can focus entirely on the occasion, however it may be that they want to spend it. Which is why you were quite surprised to find yourself alone in bed when you woke up in the morning.

Now, that's not when you started feeling doubt. After all, maybe Wanderer, your boyfriend of the past few months, was in the kitchen. Breakfast in bed is a traditional start to Valentine's Day, and an easy way to get in anyone's good books. But, when you heard nothing after a few minutes of waiting, – no clanking of cutlery or slamming of cabinets – you just had to go see where he was.

Unluckily for you, all you could find was a little note, hastily sprawled and left waiting on the counter:

"I'll be gone for a while, don't wait up for me. I left you some breakfast in the cupboard, it might need heating up if you stay in bed too long, but that's not my fault...

–Happy Valentine's Day."

As usual, his handwriting is kind of hard to read; quick and messy. But, at least he did technically make you breakfast, even if he also alluded to you being lazy.

However, what most takes your attention, is the blotch of ink that splattered right at the end of "fault". It was as if he were hesitating to let go, to pick up the pen and leave it at that.

Which is why you felt oddly warm at the fact that the last part was perfectly legible and obviously had been written slower than the rest.

Even though you know Wanderer isn't particularly fond of outright expressing his feelings, you thought that surely, today of all days, he could push aside his own pride for you. Even just a little. Maybe that was too high of an expectation. His ambitions never let him take a break, so why would he take one for a made-up holiday?

Well... at least he's aware enough of your excitement for the day to acknowledge it first thing in the morning, even if he wasn't there to actually say it.

But, you knew that with Wanderer, everything would be awkward and touchy the first time around. You had to move slowly. Baby steps, you remind yourself, as you head back to your shared room to start getting ready.

It's only the start of the day.

...

You wish it weren't Valentine's Day.

Every street was lined with couples, each and every one of them holding hands, carrying flowers... things that you should be doing with your boyfriend right now.

And it didn't help that you felt like everyone was judging you for being alone, especially when most of them likely knew who you were dating. It's not like you hadn't seen them staring before now.

You couldn't blame them, really. Wanderer had shown up in Sumeru suddenly and didn't feel especially inclined to explain himself, so of course people would be curious. You just didn't like the way that their eyes would... linger after him. Even when you were there! And on the rare day that Wanderer was comfortable enough to let you hold onto him in public, the admiring stares turned to full-blown jealousy.

Now, what was wrong with that? Shouldn't that be an ego boost for you? You'd thought so too, at first. But then you realised that just meant they'd want to try and steal him from you.

You thought you could put up with it at first. After all, you knew that Wanderer wouldn't stand for anyone else touching him or getting in his way other than you. You trusted him just fine. You didn't trust the average Akademiya goer, though. They all seemed to think they were entitled to have whatever – or whoever – they wanted, just because they'd gotten into the prestigious school at all.

You'd tried to bring up your concerns to Wanderer about the whispers going around and the jealous looks you'd get when walking through the streets or halls of the Akademiya. Almost instantaneously, he shut down your complaints, finding the words so easily that it almost felt as though he hadn't even tried.

"Tch... they're annoying and only want to waste our time. Just ignore them like I do."

That response was actually exactly what you'd expected to hear, and while you were grateful for his straightforward answer, you'd wanted a more... passionate outcome. Something to show he cared.

That definitely isn't what you got, considering he didn't even look at you when he said it.

After that, you didn't want to bring up the same problem again. Especially not on Valentines Day, even though he'll probably come home having been confessed to over twenty times in the past hour alone. Okay, maybe you were over-exaggerating a little, but it really didn't feel like it to you. Plus, it's the day of love! You're allowed a little leeway for feeling paranoid, right?

Maybe this evening will be better, when Wanderer finally comes come.

...

As you walk through the door, you're instantly met with a faint smell that you recognised to be the lavender lemongrass scented candles that you kept around the house. Of course, this clued you in to the fact that Wanderer must already be home. But what solidified this, was that when you walked through the doorway, there he was, waiting for you standing next to a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. It was mainly made up of your favourite flower, along with some of the famous Valentine's flowers as well, such as roses, carnations, and even some daisies.

Most likely, it was thought up by the florist that he went to. But at least he knew your favourite flower, as well as followed the tradition of buying them for you at all.

Often times, it was unusual for him to initiate physical touch with you; even though he was comfortable with you, he still just wasn't used to it yet. Tonight, however, he seemed to have no trouble in walking right up to you, taking your hand to guide you into the living room, where you could both just relax in each other's company. The calming lavender lemongrass candles eased your mood quite well, and you were happy that your Wanderer had really tried for Valentine's day.

...

You had a lovely evening with your boyfriend, cuddling on the couch as you spoke in hushed voices about anything and everything (even if he was slightly apprehensive to start), the lovely atmosphere of romantic music quietly flooding through from the street.

And even though it had felt perfect, as you get ready to retire for the night, the candles having gone out a while ago, you can't help but feel the uncertainty from before start to overtake your thoughts again.

Resigning yourself to forget about it, you get into your side of the bed, your Wanderer already having been waiting for you to return. But he can tell that something in your mood has changed almost as soon as he lays his eyes on you again.

"What's wrong?"

"... Nothing."

He leans forward, showing his engagement. "Bullshit. If you don't tell me, there's nothing I can do to help you get over it."

"I just... those people from the Akademiya... they're still bothering me." You look down at your hands.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, "I've told you to just ignore them. There's nothing I can do to control how people think of you, or me, or us."

"I can't just ignore them!" You whine, "They're always looking at us when we're together... it's making me worried..."

At that, he looks over at you, his eyes scrunching as he thinks your words over. "Worried about what?"

Not sure how to say it, you move yourself to lay against him. Your back is pressed to his chest now, and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck helps to soothe your thoughts just enough for you to find the words:

"...I don't want them to take you from me..."

Now, it's Wanderer's turn to be silent. Now, he realises the mistake he'd made in telling you to just ignore those insignificant people; by ignoring the problem himself, he'd made you focus on it more. Of course you'd be feeling worried about this, he'd shut it down the first time you'd tried bringing it up.

You didn't need to just forget about it. You needed to work through it so that you could forget about it.

After almost a minute of tense silence, you're surprised when you feel his lips press gently to the back of your neck, accompanied moments later by his arm curling around you, pulling you ever closer against him. His hand rests over the place where your heart rests, while the other intertwines your fingers with his against your stomach, as if caging in the butterflies that start to flutter.

"Allow me to try again..." He presses a kiss to your ear before speaking again, "you don't need to think about them, or what I think about them." The hand on your heart shifts to cup your chest, your breath wavering when his hand brushes over your hardening nipples. "Because I'll never want anyone but you."

Then, the night is almost a blur.

Wanderer sneakily pulls a bottle of rose scented lube from under the pillow, liberally gathering some as he starts to stretch you out on his fingers. The scent slowly fills the room, intoxicating you on the heady fragrance, allowing it to pull you deeper into the moment.

He steadily pushes his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you, never slowing until after you've cum around his lubed up digits. Your hand finds purchase with the one on your chest, tightening your grip around him as you come down from the residual high.

He's whispering short encouragements to you while you collect your breath, the moans you'd been letting out dying on your tongue. Wanderer slowly lifts your leg, allowing him to guide his hard cock to finally, finally press against your hole, not making you wait to feel him as the slowly pushes in.

You don't need to adjust much, the lube and his attentive fingers having done the work well enough that only the comforting sensation of being full registers in your core. He starts thrusting when you signal that you're ready, his pace is easy and the power behind his hips is controlled enough to pull a soft moan from you with each stroke. It's different from what you're used to, but it's good. So good. And what makes it better is the hushed and stuttered, "I love you," and, "You're the only one that matters," that gets breathed into your shoulder as you both approach your shared climax.

The next morning, you wake up to find your Wanderer exactly where he ended last night; right next to you in your bed. You close your eyes contentedly, knowing you'll never have to worry about him being taken from you.

He's your Wanderer.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

can i be honest? im a fan of azul but his dream felt like it lacked impact. there were some very interesting moments and its better than the prediction that he would already be rich and own the world

like really? azul becomes a famous athlete and bullies others, then he takes over night raven? i feel like his struggles with his own identity and food could have been further explored and he is based off of ursula, which should extend to vanessa, right? it was the perfect reason to give him a total makeover and show that he has to be comfortable in his own skin before anything else, even if his other ness was what made him a target of bullying in the first place

your thoughts and worries on book 7 post has affected my perspective and i cant help but feel like something is missing 🥲 maybe all the budget went into Jade and Floyd?

[Referencing this post!]

As I’ve previously expressed, I have a lot of my own complicated feelings about the direction book 7 is taking, specifically with how the OB boys’ dream segments are presented and resolved. Azul’s dream is no different; it felt very contrived due to the formula TWST insists on running with in every new installment. It’s becoming even more apparent with each update, and it is really grating on me.

But!! Before I get to what I believe are shortcomings with Azul’s dream, let’s review what Anon has to say.

I feel like, no matter what, there will always be people claiming that the OB boys’ dreams are “missed opportunities”. This is simply because these characters have much more deep and complex issues than the rest of the cast, so we will naturally scrutinize them more. TWST is basically only able to go with one angle when they tackle the dream, leaving the other threads unexplored. This will surely annoy or disappoint people who wish that TWST would have addressed a different issue instead, or perhaps something closer to their personal interpretation of the events. In Azul’s case, I feel like some people (particularly in the west, not so much in the east) see Azul’s weight concerns or relationship with food as a prominent part of his character, so they wish that book 7 part 10 had looked into that more. However, that was never a big focus in canon, so it follows that TWST would want to dedicate its time and resources to the most pressing thing (which would be more centered on Azul’s general self-confidence, greed, and how those tie into his sense of identity). At the same time, they probably wanted to avoid a lens that is too broad. Having the focus be on Azul’s “otherness” or being an octopus might veer too heavily into something way beyond the scope of the ~10 parts of the story he has to himself.

We also need to consider that these dreams are meant to be shallow interpretations of what the dreamer desires (according to Idia). Only the OB boys get to go more in depth due to bring dragged down into deeper layers of their dreams. Azul wants to be accepted by his peers and is insecure about his lack of athleticism (as one reason why he was bullied was due to not being able to swim as fast as other merchildren). So of course the surface level of his dream makes him a star athlete beloved by all. The whole “his plan succeeds, he steals everyone’s magic, he takes over NRC” thing happens in the second layer of his dream, which, like all previous OB boys, is a dark display of what would have happened had they not been stopped. And finally, Azul being a bully is nothing new—we saw this behavior back in book 3 as well. He became the very thing he despised back when he was a victim, and now he continues to perpetuate that cycle of bullying in an effort to affirm confidence in his “cool” new identity. I think the dream was very intentional in trying to entice him with the promises of power and acceptance. That, in turn, shows us that the desire to be a successful businessman (the thing many of us thought would be his dream) actually hinges on Azul’s longing to be accepted. His struggle with his identity and how it depends on how others perceive him was portrayed. I’m just not sure if the idea was executed in the best way, since it sounds like the message may have gotten muddled along the way and it definitely requires some reading between the lines.

I noticed that you cited my original post where I detailed my concerns about book 7 and how that has influenced your own thoughts 💦 I hope that it just… informed or supplemented your opinions rather than suddenly altered them to be more “in line” with my own. I never want to be the kind of person who claims their interpretations are the “most correct” I’m not Riddle’s mom, okay?? 😭

About Jade and Floyd’s dreams, I feel like those are less heavily critiqued because they, by virtue of not being an OB boy, have fewer stakes and are predominantly there to be silly. It’s like contrasting Epel wanting to be big and buff to Vil literally murdering Neige; there is just no comparison. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say Floyd’s and Jade’s parts received “all the budget”… They seemed like pretty basic storylines to me, perhaps dressed up slightly better thanks to the new undersea assets and bioluminescence reveal.

My issues with Azul’s dream segment is how… ham-fisted several elements were. All of it, for the sake of sticking to the pattern already established earlier. It feels so unnatural and stilted because you just KNOW it’s written this way to fit the template 😔 For example:

Why did Jade become SO dumb when they were trying to figure out where Azul had moved the contracts? He’s supposed to be much smarter than how he is presented here. Wouldn’t his immediate thought be to check Azul’s room? But NO, Jade can’t come to that conclusion on his own because we need a contrived reason for each student to use their UM before the ending :/ so Jade has to waste time using his UM to get the truth out of his dream!self.

Jade and Floyd sitting around and going “………….” while they watch Azul make an ass of himself was such a time waster. Clearly you have enough brains to know what would trigger him, so why are you not acting on it???? Oh yeah, because we need to show more cool stuff in this dream like La Grotta!

Azul literally turns to the camera and tells his OB self, “Unlike you, I’ve changed.” It’s way too on the nose with what it’s trying to communicate. It breaks immersion and makes it so obvious the characters are outright stating their character development to make sure we all “get it”.

What was the purpose of Azul using his UM to get the mermobs to sign a contract to give all their power to him???💀 Bro can just say “excuse me, I forgot something back at the Coral Rush field” and they’d probably let him pass. But again, Azul isn’t allowed to do that because he MUST use his UM before the ending. Because Azul’s UM requires that another person willingly agree and sign a contract, his mandatory UM use before the grand finale feels particularly forced.

How many times do I need to listen to Idia/Ortho or other characters warn us about how we can’t have too many people dream hopping or else bugs might happen or Malleus might notice… It’s almost like the devs realize how long this is being dragged out for so they have to remind us every so often.

Not only that, but we get such poorly constructed explanations to keep characters behind while a new character goes with the main group. Why don’t you just leave them all behind once they’re awake then?? Oh yeah, because we NEED to drag along the current student into the next dream so everyone gets a cameo. It’s so inorganic how the characters are chosen to stay behind, Jamil just conveniently volunteers himself while we also listen to another spiel from Silver and Sebek about how their training makes them more stable than the twins to keep dream hopping.

I would actually consider Azul’s dream… serviceable? Like it isn’t fantastic or anything but for what it is, it works. It’s cohesive enough. But god, did I dislike how rigid it was… Nothing happens because it’s natural, it happens because the script demands it happens. To quote another post:

If anyone has played the first Ace Attorney game, this feels a LOT like that part in case 2 where Phoenix is too dumb to check the back of a receipt until Mia literally tells him to. The [characters have] to actively be made stupider because the scenario calls for it, and that really rubs me the wrong way.

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Six

Don't Hange'm Til Noon: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (oral, f receiving), Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 6.4k (I'm so sorry, oh my god)

A/N: I have no words for this one. I warned y'all the train scene was gonna be something else. Also, shoutout to @im-just-ken for taking the time to do research for me and putting up with informing me about all of the different aspects of the Victorian Age!! You're the best!! As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagasbond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

The sky was overcast and the distant rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. Autumn was beginning to give way to winter, and a new routine had settled in over the ranch in the three weeks since Jake had started working there.

“What are you doing here?” you had asked him with wide eyes. His smirk had widened at your flustered appearance. Your mind raced back to the events of the night before and you gave your tomatoes a run for their money with how red your cheeks must have been.

“Didn’t your brother tell you?” Jake asked, quirking an eyebrow at your brother. “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” you gaped, glancing wildly back and forth between the two men. “Since when?”

“As of yesterday afternoon,” Benjamin sighed, casting you a sideways glance.

��But, why?”

“You made it pretty clear yesterday morning that you were only interested in men who work for a living,” he explained, cocking his head to the side with a bemused look in your direction.

“I didn’t mean here!” you spluttered.

“Well, Benji here was kind enough to offer me a job,” Jake nodded at the other man. “Isn’t that right, Benjamin?”

Benjamin let out a sigh that sounded something akin to “lovesick fools” as he turned to stalk off towards the barn. You stared after him helplessly before Jake cleared his throat, gaining your attention. His smirk was gone, replaced by a much more serious look as he gazed at you.

“I’m not going to cause any trouble,” he stated, shaking his head when you gave him a dubious look. “I mean it. I’m here to work and earn my livin’ like a man should. I give you my word.”

You studied him for a moment. His green eyes held a look of sincerity and a desperation for you to believe him. You sighed. “Alright, Jake. I’m taking you at your word.”

“Excellent,” he beamed down at you before giving you a stern look. “Now go on and get now. I’m tryin’ to work and you’re distracting me.”

You chuckled lightly, giving him a small smile. Jake’s stern expression dropped, a look of wonder replacing it as he stared at you. A moment passed before he broke out in a grin and turned his attention back towards the fence.

Now, an air of easiness had settled between the two of you as life on the ranch continued. Jake worked hard, and he never complained about what was asked of him, even going above and beyond on a couple of occasions. You had even found him napping in the barn one day after a night where the coyotes had been particularly active, and you had allowed the poor man to catch up on his rest in thanks.

You were on your knees in the garden, digging up the onions you had planted a while ago, when you heard the sound of a horse making its way up the path to your home. Looking up, you saw U.S. Marshal Simpson making his way to you. You wiped the sweat from your brow, stumbling to your feet despite the numbness that had paralyzed your limbs from sitting on them for too long. Beau Simpson smiled at you as he dismounted, walking over to meet you by the fence to your garden.

“Marshal Simpson,” you greeted politely.

“Afternoon, Scout,” he said. “Please, call my Beau.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I was hopin’ you could help me out with something.”

“And what is that?”

He looked out to the empty pasture before glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Was hoping you could tell me where I might find Jake Seresin.”

Your blood ran cold. You knew he was probably out with the others, moving the cattle in from the far pasture, but you weren’t about to tell Beau Simpson that.

“And why would you think that, Beau?”

He fixed you with a look that said he knew you knew why he’d think that, but he played along. “Well, amongst other things, I heard he managed to get himself a job here against your brother’s better judgement.”

“You shouldn’t gossip, Beau. It’s the Devil’s pastime.”

He let out a laugh at that one. “Well, from what I hear, it’s hardly gossip, Scout, but alright. You seen him around?”

“Can’t say that I have,” you responded cooly, picking at the dirt underneath your fingernails. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. You had told him the truth, you reasoned with yourself. You hadn’t seen Jake that day. Beau was quiet for a moment, studying you thoughtfully before letting out a long sigh.

“You should be careful, Scout,” he began, pushing up off the railing. “It won’t do you any good to get tangled up with someone who’s due a hanging. You might end up caught in the rope yourself, if you aren’t careful.”

You didn’t respond. He tipped his hat to you before moving towards his horse. You watched as he mounted and made his way back towards town. You stared after him long after he disappeared from sight before walking slowly back into the house. You went upstairs to wash the dirt from your face and hands before setting out to make dinner. It was a couple of hours before the four ranch hands made their way through the back door, laughing and smiling the entire way. You scowled at the group of men.

“What do you all think you’re doing?” you snapped. Four pairs of wide, shocked eyes turned to look at you, the laughter and chatter stopping immediately. You glared down at the floor where their boots had left muddy shoe prints on the hardwood. They followed your gaze before slowly looking back up at you with sheepish grins.

“Sorry, Scout,” Levi apologize, already moving back towards the door. “We’ll go get washed up outside.”

The others murmured their agreement and filed out after him. Jake was the last to move for the door, and you quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him back. He turned to stare at you, surprise turning into a question.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. He smiled down at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, honey girl?” he drawled. “What about?”

“Marshal Simpson came by today.”

“Cyclone?” Jake asked, taken aback. “What did he want?”

You dropped his hand, and moved towards the stove where you had left dinner unattended momentarily. “Came by to ask if I had seen you.”

“Oh?” he questioned, leaning up against the wall by the door, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You hummed, nodding.

“Don’t worry, I told him I didn’t know where you were.”

He seemed surprised at that, pushing off from the wall and coming to stand by your side. “What?”

“I told him I hadn’t seen you. It wasn’t a lie, technically,” You rushed out. Jake stared at you incredulously before frowning.

“You’re not telling me something,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. You glanced at him before looking back down at the pot of soup you were stirring. “What else did he say to you?”

You sighed and recounted what Beau had said. Jake swore, turning and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” you offered in a huff. Jake whirled back to look at you, worry lines crinkling his brow.

“Nothing to worry about?” he laughed humorlessly. “Scout, don’t you know a threat when you hear one?”

“I don’t see why he would be threatening me,” you argued, hands on your hips. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve done something or not, sweetheart,” he groaned out. “He knows I work here, and he knows what to go after now.”

“I don’t understand,” you frowned. “You weren’t this worried when I mentioned him before. Why are you now? What changed?”

Jake stared at you for a moment. He moved to say something, but the door swung open as the other ranch hands filed in.

“You better go get washed up quick, Hangman,” Phillip laughed, clapping Jake on the back before taking a seat at the table. “Might not be any food left for you when you get back.”

Jake gave a half-hearted smile to the other man before giving you one last look and walking out the back door.

The next morning, business continued on as usual. You had just hung the laundry out to dry when you heard the front door creak open with a thud as it hit the wall.

“Scout!”

You walked into the parlor where Benjamin stood, grinning wide as he searched for you. His smile grew impossibly wider as his eyes finally landed on you. He raised his hand up to reveal an envelope, and he shook it in excitement.

“Benji, wha-”

“It’s a letter from Aunt Jo!” he cried excitedly. You let out a happy cry of your own as you rushed forward. Your Aunt Josephine had been your mother’s older sister, and you had spent many days running around in her orchard growing up. She was a kind woman, and she had helped to fill the void of your mother’s passing. It had been hard to leave her behind.

“Have you opened it?” You were practically vibrating from excitement. Benjamin shook his head.

“No, I wanted to read it with you.”

“Well, go on!” you laughed, gesturing for him to open it. He did so, eyes scanning the paper quickly.

“She wants us to come for a visit,” he smiled, looking up at you. Your grin matched his own as you hopped excitedly.

“What’s going on here?”

The both of you turned to see Jake standing in the doorway with an amused glint in his eyes as he watched the two of you giggle like school children. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“Our Aunt Josephine wrote to us,” you explained in a hurry. “She wants us to come visit.”

“Yeah?” Jake grinned at your enthusiasm. “When?”

“Says she wants us to come up for Christmas,” Benjamin frowned, scanning the letter over. Your heart jumped at the idea of seeing a white Christmas again. You thought it was one of the many things you had given up when you moved out west to Maverick. Benjamin lowered the letter with a grim expression. “I can’t go.”

“What?” you cried, looking over at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said slowly, “that I can’t go. There’s too much work to be done here on the ranch, and I can’t take the weeks off from the firm.”

“Oh,” you said dejectedly. “Well, we’ll have to write back to Aunt Jo to tell her we’ll come at another time, then.”

“No, Scout,” Benjamin said firmly. “Just because I can’t go, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I know how much you miss it there, and the trip will mean so much more to you than it will me, anyway. No, I insist. You’re going.”

“But, Benji-”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” he said, offering you a smile. “Now we just need to find someone to go with you. Ah, but Hondo and Joel aren’t do back for weeks now. Maybe I could get Tom to-”

“I’ll do it.”

Both of you turned to look at Jake. His eyes darted between the two of you as you gaped at him.

“What?” Benjamin questioned. Jake cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter.

“I’ll go with her,” he said firmly. Your eyes darted to Benjamin who was already looking at you. He cocked his head as if to say that he was okay with it if you were. You bit your lip, mulling your options over. You worried about the implications that might arise at having a man who wasn’t family show up with you in Baltimore. But you knew that Jake could be trusted. He had shown you the kind of man he was capable of being, and you trusted him enough by this point to know you would be safe.

“Yes,” you said finally. “Alright, it’ll be the two of us.”

Two days later you were adding the final items to your bag for your journey. Benjamin had already sent a reply back to your Aunt Josephine explaining the circumstances, but had told her you were eagerly preparing for your trip. You had just placed your last skirt in your bag when something caught your eye. You glanced up to see the wooden horse still standing proudly on your end table. You chewed on your bottom lip, slowly walking over to grab the figurine. You smoothed over the back of it before turning it over in your hand to stare at the initials that were carved into its belly.

“Scout? The cart is ready, and Benjamin wanted me to-”

You looked up to see Jake standing in your doorway. His eyes were focused on the wooden statue in your hand before they slowly traveled up to look into your eyes.

“You kept it?”

“Of course I kept it,” you scowled at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugged, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “You were just so mad at me then. I didn’t think you’d care enough to keep it.”

“Well,” you mumbled, trying to come up with something, anything to weasel your way out of the conversation. “I did.”

Jake studied you for a moment before smiling. “You almost done packin’? Your brother’s waiting downstairs to send us off.”

“Yes,” you breathed, thankful for the out he had offered you. “You go on ahead. I’ll be down in just a minute.”

He nodded before turning and walking off. You let out a sigh, looking back down at the wooden horse. You walked back towards the foot of your bed where your bag lay, and gently placed it on top before closing the clutch and heading downstairs.

The first couple of days passed without incident. Benjamin had wished you to a safe and pleasant journey, watching you as Jake drove the cart down the street. The two of you camped out under the stars of the wilderness, Jake making sure you were plenty warm and comfortable in the back of the cart before settling down on the blanket he would set by the fire.

“You don’t have to sleep on the ground,” you told him on the third night. He had looked up to where you hung over the side of the cart to look at him. “There’s more than enough room to fit the both of us comfortably.”

Jake had let out a low laugh before giving you a look that made your core clench. “Honey girl, I already have to sit next to you during the day. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself if I didn’t have this time to cool down.”

You blushed at his words and had quickly rolled over to try and get some sleep.

Jake was a surprisingly good cook, and an even better shot. The two of you survived off the bread and produce you had purchased from the general store as well as the rabbits Jake managed to shoot during your camp-outs. By the fifth day, you had run out of polite conversation topics, and the two of you drifted towards more personal ones.

“Do you have any siblings?” you asked him that afternoon. Jake quirked an eyebrow at you in amusement. “What?”

“You wanna know if I have any siblings?”

“You already know about Benjamin,” you pointed out. “I think it’s only fair if I know about any siblings you have.”

“Alright, Scout,” he hummed with a smile. “If you must know, I have an older sister.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah,” he smiled. “She’s about two years older than me, and she has a son named Billy who’s a little terror of a kid.”

He smiled down at you, and you returned the gesture. He turned his head back to the road and frowned. “Her husband died just after Billy was born. So, I’ve been tryin’ to help her out where I can. She works in town as a seamstress, but the hours are long, and the pay is shit.”

“What about your parents?” you asked, and he gave you a wry smile.

“They died in the scarlet fever epidemic that swept through Maverick years back. The same one that took out Rooster’s mama and daddy and Bob’s pops. It was a real mess there for a while, but Mav and Penny took us all in, gave us a roof over our heads and put food in our bellies. I don’t think any of us were really much of the same after that, though.”

“Jake,” your heart broke for him. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry ‘bout, sweet girl. We get along just fine now. Jus’ wish my sister didn’t have to work so damn hard all the time, is all. Don’t wanna see her work herself into an early grave.”

You hesitated. “Is that why you do what you do? Steal, I mean.”

Jake didn’t answer for a moment. “That’s one reason. I’d do anything for my sister and that kid of hers. The money and treasures I get from doin’ all those jobs mostly goes to help her out.”

“And the other reason?” you asked. Jake pursed his lips, contemplating his next words.

“Rooster was real torn up about his parents. I, at least, had Sarah. Bradley? He didn’t have anyone. Think something died in him the day he lost the both of’em. He started acting out when we got older, and before long he was out robbin’ banks and all sorts of other shit. I think a part of him just wanted to hurt the world the same way it hurt him, and he decided that that meant he had to take. Take what isn’t his, and keep taking before the world takes from him again.”

“And what about you? Why did you join him? Why did any of you?”

“We’re not goin’ to leave a friend to walk through hell alone,” he stated with a shrug of his shoulders. You studied his profile for a moment.

“You’re a good man, Jake Seresin.”

You saw the tips of his ears flush a bright crimson. He cleared his throat and turned to look at you with a playful glare.

“Alright, you’re turn,” he smirked. “Which of my friends do you like the most? And if you say Javy, I’m dumping you on the side of the road.”

Steam billowed as a train whistle sounded on the platform. Jake was handing your luggage over to the conductor as you surveyed the station. It was still the same as when you had arrived months ago, but you felt that you yourself had changed. You supposed you had.

“Are you ready? Guy says we’re leavin’ in a couple of minutes,” Jake said as he sidled up to you, placing a gentle arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you smiled at him, allowing him to steer you towards the train car. The conductor reached out a hand to you, and you took it gratefully. You felt your cheeks flush as Jake laid his hands gently on your hips, lifting you onto the step as the conductor pulled you up. Jake followed after you, and the two of you quickly found seats near the middle of the car. You sat by the window as Jake sat across from you just as the train began to lurch forward. Jake jumped at the sudden movement, shoulders and face tense.

“Are you alright?” You asked him, reaching out to rest your hand on top of his. He glanced at you, then took a deep breath to relax.

“Jus’ never been on one of these before,” he answered, offering you a nervous smile. You returned the smile, patting his hand before pulling away.

“Yes, I suppose it can be a tad nerve-wrecking when you’re not used to it.”

“You travel a lot?” he asked you, watching as you turned to look out the window.

You shrugged. “Not so much anymore. I used to take trips with my friends up to New York every now and then.”

“You must miss it,” he murmured, eyes never leaving you. You looked at him.

“I miss them.”

Jake frowned, his turn to look out the window at the landscape that rushed past you. “Well, you’ll see’em soon enough.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, but before you could, and older woman and her husband joined you in your seats. Jake was polite, but you could sense something was off with him as his smile never quite reached his eyes. You retired for the evening, wishing the older couple a pleasant evening as Jake rose to walk you to your sleeping quarters. You stopped in front of the door to your cabin, looking up at Jake with a coy smile.

“I’m fairly certain that couple thinks we’re married,” you chuckled. Jake’s face remained stoic as he watched you.

“Would that be so bad?” he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. Your smile dropped as your eyes widened up at him.

“What?”

Jake watched you for another half second before shaking his head with a sigh.

“Nothing,” he muttered, knocking his fist on the doorframe twice before turning to head to his own cabin. “Goodnight, Scout.”

You watched him as he closed his door behind him before turning into your own cabin, shutting the door behind you.

The next morning you found yourself only hours away from St.Louis. You dressed slowly before walking over to Jake’s cabin. When he didn’t answer your knock, you decided to see if he had gone on ahead. You found him minutes later in the dining car, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked tired, bags heavy under his eyes as he looked out the window. A couple of women at the table next to him were casting him barely concealed glances as they giggled amongst each other. You marched down the aisle and sat in the seat across from him. He started at your entry, but relaxed when he realized it was you.

“You’re up early this morning,” you commented. He hummed at you, taking another sip from his coffee. You pressed on. “Are you usually such an early riser?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he grumbled, and you pursed your lips.

“Is something the matter?” you asked. He glanced at you.

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

The question caught you off guard, and you balked before fixing him with a curious look.

“Sometimes,” you admitted slowly. “I suppose most girls do. It’s something we’re raised to do, after all.”

“But do you want to?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“Yes,” you stated, shifting in your seat. “I do. Someday.”

“And what about the groom? Who is it you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

You scowled at him. “Why are you suddenly asking me this?”

Jake just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. You huffed. “I suppose I’ve never really given it too much thought. I knew I would have to get married one day, and I assumed that one day I might fall in love with someone. There were several young men pushed for me to choose, but I suppose none of them ever felt right.”

“What about you?” you asked suddenly. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

“Me?” Jake laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Not really. Never thought I’d like anyone enough to want to spend the rest of my life with them. Used to laugh at the idea of ever finding someone who could make me want to settle down.”

“And now?”

Jake’s expression remained amused, but there was a hint of an emotion behind his eyes that, try as you might, you couldn’t place. Jake glanced out the window and made to stand up. “Looks like we’re here.”

The train ride from St. Louis to Baltimore started off much of the same, except this time you were seated next to a group of young women who openly gawked and giggled over the handsome man across from you. You felt a rush of irritation as one dropped her hand fan in the aisle. Jake reached down to grab it for her, staring up at her with a polite smile.

“I think you dropped this,” he offered as she took it. Your blood boiled when she batted her eyes at him with a coy smile.

“Thank you, handsome,” she grinned as her friends broke out into another round of giggles. Jake cleared his throat with a wince as he leaned back into his seat. You stood up abruptly, and Jake was left scrambling to his feet.

“I’m tired,” you announced, making a pointed effort to not look at the girls. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Jake agreed, following down the aisle after you. Neither of you said a word to the other as you made your way towards your cabin for the evening. Stopping in front of the door, you turned to look at Jake.

“This is me,” you said. Jake looked at the number on the cabin and then down at the ticket in his hand.

“That can’t be right,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” you frowned. Jake looked up at you and then back down to his ticket before letting out a sigh.

“Ticket says this is my cabin too.”

“What?” you shrieked, snatching the ticket from his hand. “Give me that.”

You stared down at the black ink, willing the information to change. You glanced at Jake who was still watching you, waiting for you to come to terms with the situation.

“What do you want to do?” he asked finally.

“Well, we’ll just have to find the conductor and get this mess sorted out.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “I’ll go try and find him. You stay here.”

A half hour passed before Jake slunk back to the cabin looking defeated. He offered you an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t find him.”

You chewed on your bottom lip before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I suppose it can’t be helped,” you muttered, turning to open the door. “Come on, then.”

“What?” He said, eyes growing wide.

“Look,” you gritted out as you stepped through the door, “we can be adults about this. It’s one night.”

“But-”

“Would you rather sleep out here?” You argued. Jake didn’t respond. “That’s what I thought. Now come on.”

Jake followed you into the cabin silently, closing the door behind him. You moved to open your luggage that had been placed inside when you boarded, taking out your nightdress. You turned to see Jake still staring at you. The two of you stood in the tiny space facing each other for a moment.

“I need to change,” you whispered, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, I’ll just,” Jake stuttered, moving to turn.

“Don’t look,” you threw in for good measure, earning a nervous chuckle from the man in front of you. You turned around, quickly undressing before throwing your nightdress on. You turned back around to see Jake still facing the door.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I’m decent.”

Jake turned around to face you, and you heard his breath catch in his throat. He slowly looked you up and down before meeting your gaze again. “My turn.”

You watched as Jake removed his shirt. You blushed when he pushed his pants down to reveal the white, knee-length undergarments he wore. You took in the smattering of blond hair that covered his broad chest, almost blending in with the gold of his skin. Jake cleared his throat and glanced at the bed.

“How do you wanna,” he trailed off. You looked at the bed and made your decision. You brushed past him, moving to lay down. You laid back, glancing up at him shyly. Jake watched you in a reverie, breaths coming out quick and stuttered as he looked down at you. He turned to dim the gas lamp, casting the room in darkness save for the moonlight that filtered through the window. Silently, slowly, he laid down in the bed next to you.

The two of you laid in silence for almost an hour, Jake’s back to you as you fidgeted with your fingers.

“Jake?” you called out softly. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

You rolled onto your side, facing his back. “You never answered my question.”

Jake rolled over so that you two were now facing each other. “What question is that, pretty girl?”

“Back at the ranch, when I told you what Beau said, I asked you why you were suddenly so worried about him when you weren’t before.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you know why they call him ‘Cyclone?’”

You shook your head.

“They call him that because when he sets his mind on a job, he comes in with a fury, leaving nothing behind, just like a tropical storm.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, reaching up to cup your cheek.

“Are you scared?” you asked him quietly, and he gave you a wry smile.

“Only of something happening to you, sweet girl.”

You reached up to run your fingertips over his cheek, running them down until they brushed over his lips. He parted them slightly, looking at you with eyes ablaze. Before you could think on it, you surged forward, planting your lips on his. Jake quickly deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand up to your hip to pull you close. He grabbed the flesh of your thigh as he lifted your leg up to drape over his waist. You parted your lips at the movement, and he took advantage of it, licking into your mouth with a desperation that left your head dizzy. You moaned into his mouth, pushing yourself against him as he slowly guided you up into a sitting position.

You grabbed at any part of him that you could reach, whining when he broke the kiss. He chuckled as you chased his lips with your own, but fixed you with a serious look in his eye.

“Tell me to stop,” he said softly, hand skimming the ends of your nightdress. “Tell me to stop, and I swear I will, y/n.”

“Don’t stop,” you responded breathlessly. Jake leaned in to grant you another kiss before pulling back to lift your dress over your head. The cool air of the night washed over you, and you suddenly felt exposed as he drank in your naked form. You moved to cover yourself, but he grabbed your arms, gently leaning you back down onto the bed as he hovered over you.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, the green of his eyes swallowed by the blacks of his pupils. “I want to look at you.”

You watched him as he drank in your form, hands softly gliding down to rest on your hips. A small smile played at the edge of his lips.

“You look so pretty for me, honey girl,” he hummed. Your breath caught in your throat as he parted your legs. Leaning back to take all of you in, his eyes blazed with want as he stared down at your most intimate part. He surged forward, capturing your lips in an unexpected kiss before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. He sucked a bruising kiss onto the base of your neck, you gasped as you felt the hard, covered length of him push against your dripping core. One of his hands reached up to grasp your breast as his mouth encased around one of your nipples. You mewled, thoughtlessly pushing your chest up into his warm mouth. He pulled off of your hardening peak with a low chuckle.

“You gotta be quiet, pretty girl,” he smirked down at you, fingers still toying with the nipple that hadn’t just been in his mouth. “Don’t want to disturb the other passengers, do we?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his mouth was attached back to you. You squirmed underneath him, desperate for more of the mind-numbing pleasure you knew he could give you. Jake was in no hurry, though. He took his time lapping at your sensitive bud before switching his attention to the other. Your head fell back in frustration as your hands moved up to tug on his blond strands.

“Jake, please” you moaned. Jake gave you a playful glare before giving a particularly hard pinch to your breast that had you crying out.

“Greedy girl,” he rumbled, leaning up to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You’ll take what I give you, understand?”

You nodded your head desperately, and Jake hummed in approval. Mercifully, he trailed his lips down your body, giving fleeting sucks and nips to your nipples before moving further down. Your breath hitched as he shifted down the bed, face level with the junction of your legs. He teased open-mouthed kisses up and down your thighs, never touching you where you wanted him most, and you began to squirm yet again. Jake moved to wrap his arms around your thighs, caging them in his hold so that you couldn’t move. He nuzzled up into your mound before making eye contact with you.

“Been thinkin’ about this for weeks, honey girl,” he murmured, breath fanning over you and making you cry out. “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you tasted that night in the alley. Fucked my hand at the thought about all those little noises you made jus’ for me as I made you fall apart on my fingers. Fuck, you squeezed me so tight. Imagined what it would be like to have my cock buried in this pretty pussy instead of my fingers.”

“Jake!” you cried out at his words. You let out another cry as he snaked a finger around to run gently run through your folds.

“Look at you, darlin’. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked. You’re practically drippin’ on the bed for me. The thought of takin’ my fat cock inside of you makin’ you this wet? Jesus, I see you clenching. This greedy, little cunt is practically beggin’ for me.”

“Jakey, please,” you sobbed, feeling the tears start to prickle behind your eyes. Jake continued his torture, finger now grazing lightly over your clit, and your hips started to buck up into him before he pushed them back down.

“Uh, uh, sweetheart,” he chided, casting you a light glare. “You take what I give you, remember?”

You whined as he began to draw tiny figure eights on your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, darlin’. You just lie back and take it. Let Jakey make you feel good, yeah?” he drawled, sinking a finger into you. He let out a low groan as you clenched tightly around the digit. “Fuck, pretty girl. Love the way you grip me like that. My pretty pussy is just beggin’ for me to fill her up, huh?”

You felt yourself clench at the thought, and he chuckled, adding a second finger.

“Yeah, she likes the sound of that. Loves the idea of me pumpin’ into you until I give you everythin’ I have to give.”

You cried out when he pulled out of you, but his fingers were quickly replaced with the feel of his tongue diving into you. You raised your hand to bite your fist in an attempt to keep quiet. He thrust his fingers back into you as his mouth moved to nurse on your clit, sending you headfirst towards your orgasm.

“Been thinkin’ about this since I tasted you the first time, honey girl. Couldn’t wait to get my mouth on you and get my fix. Never gonna get my fix, though. Taste too good for me to ever have my fill o’ you,” he rasped. You watched his hips rut into the mattress as he feasted on you, your slick coating his lips as he nipped at your bud. Your legs began to shake as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“Jakey,” you cried out as his fingers hit that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Yeah, honey? Did I find your special spot again? Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Can’t wait to sink my cock into you and fill you up with my cum. You want that? You want me to fill you up pretty girl?” he asked you breathlessly, the pace of his hips quickening against the mattress. “That’s okay, you don’t gotta answer me. Your cunt is doin’ all the talkin’ for you. She’s weepin’ for me to pump my load into you, get you nice and swollen with my baby.”

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now. You flung a hand over your face, but Jake was having none of it.

“Look at me, sugar. Wanna see your face as you fall apart for me. Fuck, I’m gonna keep you so full. Gonna keep you all nice and round while I take care of you. Gonna take care of my gorgeous, little wifey.”

You cried out as your vision went white, his words flinging you over the edge. You watched his own eyes widen as you came apart, his hips stuttering against the mattress as he let out a whimper into your core. You ground your hips down into him as you rode out your high, and Jake grunted as his hips stilled, shaking with the strain.

You slowly came back to yourself, a sheen of sweat covering your body as Jake pressed soft, gentle kisses up the length of your body before pressing reaching up to stroke your cheek affectionately. You met his gaze, his green eyes watching you. Your chest rose quickly as you fought to control your breathing, and Jake gave you a small smile before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Sleep now, honey girl,” he whispered as he dragged the blanket over you. You reached out for him, and he pulled you into his chest with a slight chuckle and one last kiss to the top of your head.

[twiishaa]

HI IM HERE FOR THE SLUMBER PARTY!

i brought fluffy socks bc i cant sleep without them :(( and romcoms are my fav movies to watch! once we’re done, we can bake some cookies while singing karaoke of talk too much by coin! :D with either megumi or inumaki TYY 💞

HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS YOU DESERVE IT AND SO MUCH MORE! KEEP DOING WHAT UR DOING AND TAKE CARE, ILYSM☝️💗💞💖💕🎀 - 💌 anon

! 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 twisha’s 100 followers slumber party ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ - affogato and a kiss

megumi x reader wc approx 800 warnings IM SO SORRY I DINT THINK I INCORPORATED THE COOKIES PROPERLY but it’s too late to change it now 🤕 i hope you still like it

check out the event!

—

the cafe a few minutes away from you was familiar to both you and him.

more often than not, when you had a spare minute, you’d find yourself at your friend’s vintage cafe to keep her company.

and most of the time, megumi fushiguro was there too.

he found it a constant in his ever changing life, a getaway from his hectic schedule. just basking in its ambience, occasionally adding to your and your friend’s energetic conversation. his stoic face didn’t convey much emotion, but inside he enjoyed it a lot.

in fact, it wasn’t just the atmosphere he enjoyed, but also your presence too. over time, megumi had grown to look forward to the time he’d spend at the cafe, when you walk in with a totally new and absurd story, or the drama about your new dodgy neighbour.

it was safe to say he started to harbour a crush on you.

—

it was a particularly busy day at the cafe. you and megumi, the cafe regulars, were sharing a table right next to the counter. while your friend, the owner of the cafe, was back in the kitchen, you decided to spark a conversation with the mysterious raven-haired regular.

“so, fu… fushiguro, right?” you started.

he looked a little surprised that you were talking directly to him. usually, you would be talking to your friend, when he would say something to add to the conversation.

“yeah. fushiguro.”

“-but megumi is fine.” he added hastily.

you smiled at him. “okay! megumi! i’m [name], by the way.”

taking a small sip from your drink, you asked him,

“so, what’s your go-to order?”

“uhh… i usually get an iced americano, but i wanted to get something new, so i tried the affogato. it looked interesting…” he replied, trailing off at the end.

“oh my gosh! we’re matching!” you squealed, gesturing to your drink.

“the affogato is the best drink on the menu. it’s my favourite!”

megumi knew that. he ordered the affogato because it was your favourite.

just as megumi said that, your friend hurriedly made her way to your table, with megumi’s aforementioned affogato.

“-and here’s one affogato!” she said animatedly.

putting your cup down next to his, you watched megumi stir in the ice cream and then try it.

“so, what do you think?” you asked while he put the mug down.

megumi made a confused expression. “it’s a bit sweet, but i like it,” your face lit up.

your friend heard your conversation from the counter.

“oh my god [name], you’ve converted another one into an affogato eccentric!” she yelled, earning a laugh from you and a small chuckle from megumi.

absentmindedly, you picked up a cup from the table and took a sip.

wait a minute.

this felt hotter than your affogato… almost as if it was just served.

you paused.

before you could process any more, megumi (very embarrassingly) began to point out,

“uh [name], i think-“

“oh my god! megumi i’m so sorry, that’s so embarrassing,” you exclaimed, hiding your face in your hands.

it finally sunk in. you had an indirect kiss with your slightly-attractive male friend.

oh god.

megumi didn’t seem fazed from the tone of his voice; however his cheeks were a bright pink. his face was as warm as the affogato in question.

“my first kiss, too…” you muttered, still hiding in your hands.

a flustered megumi was trying to calm the situation down, while your friend was just laughing hysterically while making an order.

“[name] it’s fine, honestly. i don’t think indirect kisses really count that much anyway-“

“but they do! this was my first kiss! i wanted it to be cute, but this..” you were definitely being melodramatic. with a loud screech, you got up from your chair, put your money on the table and ran out of the cafe yelling a shaky “sorry! i just remembered i left my iron on… or something…”

megumi and your friend looked at each other completely dumbfounded, before your friend broke the silence;

“i don’t think [name] owns an iron… she lives in a cramped apartment.”

—

the next day was awkward. there was no one else in the cafe; it was midday, your friend was out to run an errand, so she closed the cafe for a while. it was you and megumi sat at the counter, cafe-sitting. hesitantly, megumi turned his head to face you.

“i’m really sorry about yesterday. i really am.” he said, avoiding eye contact a little.

you chuckled nervously. “oh, no it’s okay, i think i overreacted a little too.” turning around to look at megumi, you caught his eyes staring at you with a kind of warmth you’d never seen him display before. honestly, it made you lose your breath a little, only a few inches from his face.

megumi said, with a starstruck look,

“could i… kiss you for real? you know, like, to make up for it?”

note again i’m so sorry 💌anon but i hope you like it 😭😭 it was super fun to write i think im a pro a cafe aus now HAHA sorry for not posting lately, im starting to get pace again so another one will be out soon!! make sure to req if you want and reblogs are super appreciated!! love you lots xx

[lfghughes]

love your work :)

i was wondering if you could write like friends to lovers w nico with like a ton of tension 🙏🙏

im so obsessed with this man its unhealthy

a/n: friends to lovers is def my thing. im a true sucker for these plots.

You had been friends with Nico for years now and even though you two hadn’t grown up together sometimes it felt like you had. He was one of those people that once you two had started talking it had felt like you had known each other for ages. He had been there for you through a lot of your big life changes and you had been there for him through the ups and downs of his life. Recently you had moved out to the city and between your schedule and his schedule you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like.

Right now it had felt like forever since you had last seen Nico and that was probably because it had been forever. For the summer he had gone back home for a little bit and you had stayed distracted at work. But now with the summer coming to an end he was officially back in New Jersey and both of you had already made plans for you to come by in the weekend to see him. The best part about your friendship was the fact that no matter how many weeks you two went without seeing each other or talking, it was so easy to jump back in.

The weekend had finally gotten here and now with most of the boys back they had all decided to go out and you had driven in from the city to go see Nico specifically, although you were pretty decent friends with some of the other boys that had been around for a few seasons. The night had started off great but as the night kept on progressing you noticed a small thing that started bothering you a little.

One thing about going out with a hockey team was that you were bound to get a lot of attention, girls would come over to talk to the boys and guys would come over for the same. Every once in a while you’d get a guy express some interest in you but their interest usually disappeared once Nico would come over to you. That was something that was currently happening. “Do you want a drink?” A random guy had asked but before you could even get an answer out Nico had answered for you. “She’s good.” And jus like that he had moved his body between yours and the guy who had come up to you.

Slowly throughout the night you started picking up more and more on little things like that and you didn’t know why suddenly Nico was playing this protective role over you because last you had checked he wasn’t your boyfriend. Not that you particularly would mind that but Nico had always made it clear that he didn’t have an interest in you romantically so you weren’t going to express your small little crush to him.

A huff escaped your lips as Nico once again made his way into another conversation between you and another guy at the bar. “You’re being annoying.” You told him and his eyebrows furrowed at you. “What do you mean?” He asked and you waved your hand to the people around you. “Any guy that tries to talk to me you scare off.” All he did was shrug at those words which only annoyed you more. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

So maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was late and you were tired and cranky. You exited out the door of the bar and started towards your car. “Wait..” You heard Nico’s voice come up from behind you and even though you wanted to keep going you paused and turned around. “I’m not in the mood, Nico.” You told him but before you could even turn back around his hands had gone to the side of your face, cupping your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. Even though you were caught by surprise, you returned the kiss easily.

You had pictured this moment before and well Nico ended up being a lot better of a kisser than you even imagined. When he pulled away you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the kiss was over but you were also still shocked at what had just happened between the two of you. Shocked enough that the only word you could conjure up at the moment was “Oh…"

[overtail]

hey queen it’s me sawda with another toph ask </3 (im toph content deprived literally crying) but!! can i req a toph x fem!r where toph’s s/o is literally mulan but in the firebending army?? Thank you!!!

YES ILL DO THAT HEHE I LOVE TOPH!!

ALSO just wanna make yall aware my pronouns are they/them

I'm also so sorry for the delay. I've been on the worst writers block due to a lack of motivation. my whole family was sick, and we've been unable to pick up my anti-depressants 😭

...

Little Soldier - Toph x F!Reader

Summary: When Toph's lover turns 13, she tells her that she has to fight alongside the fire nation to protect her family.

Trigger Warning: Sexism, Implied racism, Forbidden love

Info: Pre-Book 2, long hair reader

...

'We're not gonna lose anyone else close to us again

We swore that we would always be there for each other

No matter what happens though, I promise that I'll protect you

If you were a boy

I would have actually have fallen for you if you were careful

Oh, c'mon, well maybe I'm the one who should have a crush on you'

...

"Watcha doin?" Toph feet dug into the dirt of the valley's grass, trying to identify (Y/N)'s action. Her delt held a look of confusion as se did so.

"Im just.." (Y/N) began, glancing back at Toph as she thought. "Thinking."

She held a clump of hair in her fingers, combing her digits through the strands. Something was obviously on her mind, like she was stuck in a loop up in her little head.

"About what?" Toph shuffled over, crouching down so she was eye level (if you wanted to say that) with the other. She smiled softly while (Y/N) thought: only if she knew

"You know how theres news of the Avatar returning?" (Y/N) whispered, letting out a shaky breath. Toph hummed a quiet 'yes', letting her feet slip so she would fall on her bottom. "And you also know how they're drafting men from the fire nation?"

Toph wondered where this was going. She modded carefully, feeling the floor to hear (Y/N)'s heartbeat. It was fast paced, causing the earthbender to worry.

"Yeah. Are people in your village getting drafted?" Toph questioned, thinking about all the possibilities. She heard (Y/N) sigh.

"Worse. My dad was given a note specifically by the current general." Toph's eyebrows raised at her words, realization hitting. (Y/N)'s father used to fight a long time ago, starting when he was just a boy. This was before she was born, before he met his wife.

He was regarded as one of the most intense, bloodthirsty, and brutal generals in history - behind the Dragon of the West. Though, he was old now; not fit for war.

Toph didn't know what to say. She wasn't particularly fond of the fire nation, but she was fond of (Y/N).

The girl across from her sighed, continuing to comb her digits in her hair. How would she tell Toph?

(Y/N) looked up, her face flushing red at the sight of Toph's oblivious face. She looked so calm in the moment, the valley wind ruffling up her hair. During these secret meetings, Toph would let her hair down. The soft locks ran down her back, some falling over her shoulders.

(Y/N) thought she was beautiful.

"Well, I was thinking," (Y/N) let go of her hair, moving to pick at the nail of her index finger. A sickness caused from nervousness settled in her stomach. "of pretending to be a boy."

Toph laughed, not quite knowing what she meant. "Why would you want to do that?" She smirked, before the smile faltered.

Oh.

"Wait, you're not saying-"

"I'm going to take my fathers place as his eldest son." (Y/N) interjected, her breath hitching at the words. Saying it out loud made the reality hit her light a train - realizing that it wasn't just an idea. This was happening.

Toph stayed unusually silent. She wasn't too expressive when it came to her face, but even now (Y/N) couldn't read her. Was she angry? Happy? Scared? What. was she feeling?

"How?"

(Y/N) raised a brow, confused by the question. "What do you mean?"

Toph pursed her lips, her eye brows knitting together. "How are you going to pretend to look like a boy?"

Even though Toph couldn't see her, she knew that boys and girls looked different.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath, gripping at her hair lightly. Her family always forced her into the ideal of a perfect, feminine woman - but in secret, she was strong, aggressive, and messy. Even though her personality was changed, her looks were still influenced by her family's wants. Her hair was long, and she wore fancy clothes and makeup.

"Oh, uhm.." (Y/N) was hesitant. She knew, but she sounded like she was protecting herself from her own words. "I'm gonna cut my hair.."

Toph raised an eyebrow, intrigued by (Y/N)'s response. "Cut your hair, huh? That's a bold move. How short are we talking?"

(Y/N) swallowed nervously, fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve. "I-I don't know... Short enough to pass as a boy, I guess."

Toph nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, let's do it."

Later that day, the two sat in her bedroom, Toph listening to the sound of (Y/N) snipping her hair. The locks fell onto the floor, sticking to clothes and to skin. After some time, (Y/N) found herself spaced on on Toph's bed, watching her every move.

As Toph unraveled her hair, the room was filled with the sound of gentle brushing, the rhythmic motion soothing in its familiarity. She worked through each tangle with practiced ease, her movements fluid and deliberate.

(Y/N) watched in silence, mesmerized by the way Toph's fingers danced through her hair, untangling knots with effortless grace. There was something intimate about the moment, a quiet exchange between friends bound by unspoken understanding.

"Your hair is beautiful," (Y/N) said softly, breaking the silence.

Toph glanced up, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks. It's a pain to manage sometimes, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Do you ever wish you could cut it short, like mine?"

Toph paused, her expression thoughtful. "Sometimes, yeah. It would be easier, especially when I'm training. But... it's a part of who I am, you know? Cutting it would feel like losing a piece of myself."

(Y/N) nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes. "I get that."

Toph set down the brush, turning to face (Y/N) fully. "I get that you're worried. I can sense it. Your heart is racing." Toph walked over to her bed where (Y/N) sat, sinking into the mattress. "I'm gonna miss you, but I also believe in you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) felt a weight lift off her shoulders, a sense of freedom washing over her. With Toph's unwavering support, she knew she could embrace her true self, messy hair and all. And as they sat together, basking in the warmth of their friendship, (Y/N) realized that sometimes, the most beautiful thing about a person isn't their appearance, but the authenticity of their spirit.

(Y/N) turned her head to look at toph, her face going red at the sight of her graceful face, She wanted to kiss her. Yeah, she did.

As (Y/N) gazed at Toph, her cheeks flushed with a warmth that had nothing to do with embarrassment. She was captivated by the gentle curve of Toph's lips, the sparkle in her eyes that hinted at hidden depths. And in that moment, a realization washed over her with startling clarity – she wanted to kiss her.

The thought sent a shiver down (Y/N)'s spibe, her heart pounding in her chest as she wrestled with her emotions. It was a risk, she knew, to confess her feelings, especially when their friendship hung in the balance. But the longing in her chest was too powerful to ignore, a flame that refused to be extinguished.

With trembling hands, (Y/N) reached out, cupping Toph's cheek gently as she leaned in, her heart pounding in her ears. And then, their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, a silent affirmation of the emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they savored the sweetness of the moment, their hearts beating in perfect synchrony. And when they finally pulled away, their breath mingling in the air, (Y/N) found herself smiling, a sense of peace settling over her like a warm blanket.

Toph blinked in surprise, her lips curved in a soft smile. (Y/N) chuckled nervously, her cheeks still tinged with pink. And as they sat together, their fingers intertwined, (Y/N) had already started to realize what she was committing to. She's leaving. She's leaving to fight in a war that seemed as if it was never going to end to save her family.

As the reality of (Y/N)'s impending departure settled in, a somber silence descended upon the room, casting a shadow over the warmth of their shared moment. Toph's smile faltered slightly, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation.

(Y/N) squeezed Toph's hand tightly, her own heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She had made up her mind to fight in the war, to confront the forces that threatened her her homeland. But with each passing moment, the prospect of leaving Toph behind grew more daunting.

"I... I have to go," (Y/N) murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Toph nodded slowly, her expression a mixture of understanding and sadness. "I know," she said softly. "And I'll be here waiting for you when you get back. No matter what."

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against Toph's. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Toph wrapped her arms around (Y/N) in a tight embrace, holding her close as if trying to shield her from the harsh realities of the world outside. "You won't have to find out," she promised, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart.

And as they held each other in the quiet of the room, (Y/N) found solace in Toph's arms, knowing that no matter how far apart they may be, their bond would endure.

Toph was her best friend, Toph was her girl. Toph was, well, Toph, and how could anyone forget someone like her?

...

should I make a part 2

[kaijuparfait]

I saw ur tags about indulging in the body horror aspect of the Symbiote/Host dynamic and im just here to say: do it >:3

YES.

GOD. ok so. I've always enjoyed the concept of body horror, not all the way, but it looked cool in art! But! Recently Symbrock (and Venom as a whole) has turned that up to 100- both in a "Wow! Cool alien creature biting people's heads off! >:D" way, but also in a "The goo is in his organs, his tissue, his cells... how romantic!" way.

And, if you'll excuse me, I'll only be talking about my (limited) knowledge/headcanons with Symbrock because I haven't read all the comics yet so this is all with Eddie and the Venom Symbiote in mind-

Firstly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone mention how the Symbiote can enter/exit it's Host's body through their skin, without damaging the Host. There's no wounds, just the easy slide in between layers of cells, Venom can be as solid as they want but can also come together so seamlessly, its like watching someone fold a deck of cards.

Even on a psychological standpoint, the idea of actually being "Venom". Singular. Not "We" are Venom. But the idea of two beings, from different sides of the universe, coming together perfectly as one being, one mind, one consciousness. A bit of an OC ramble, I have this OC that goes into this idea of acting as one being and I'll talk about them later but WOAH is it fun. The sheer intimacy of it.. not losing your own self, but simply combing it with another to create something- someone new.

Ok onto the actual body horror-

I am not normal about the Symbiote literally being in Eddie's blood. Blood is everywhere in the body, anywhere you poke, blood will come out- and in that, the Symbiote, ready to heal the wound.

Speaking of healing wounds, and also this post because I keep rereading it, it makes me ill, the Venom Symbiote truly sees it's Host as it's home. and that does something to me. The way it keeps the body healthy, like how you would clean your house, no longer having to worry about illnesses or infections; how it heals any injuries, like fixing a broken wall, repainting it, like there was no damage in the first place.

Knowing it's home so well, able to know what's wrong and how to make it right. Complete and utter devotion to it's beloved home, the one that keeps it safe, willingly, lovingly let's it- wants it inside to keep it safe. To know that something that could tear apart planets if it so wanted to, something that bares it's rows of teeth as a natural expression, something that has destroyed countless lives- to know something like that gently rests in the space between your organs because it wants to. And how much you want it to too.

And this goes both ways too! When they're Venom and get hurt, they way the Symbiote peels away from the body is.. its amazing that the Symbiote can be torn away from it's Host. When Eddie gets hurt, the Symbiote comes out, from inside- When Venom gets hurt, instead of blood or organs, it's Eddie at the center, but he acts as the same anyways. Eddie is the Symbiote's life, he is it's heart, carefully tucked away and protected.

Even though Eddie doesn't particularly enjoy eating people's brains, he comes up with a compromise for the 2 of them anyways, he buys tons of chocolate for it to eat too, and that adds up for a guy that is living in a one room flat. and AND AND I will never get over how, in LTBC, Venom leaves all the red m&m's, because the red dye is said to be harmful to humans in large amounts, so even though it's one of the few things it needs to live, it refuses it to keep Eddie- it's Host- it's home safe.

and, I mean, Venom totally could eat Eddie if it so wanted to, in the first movie, Eddie's literally going through.. several organ failures- but Venom puts him back together, back better! and i am suddenly ill-

excuse my weird ideas but hhhhhh Eddie being torn apart and put back together..... yeah. how much trust is needed for that? how much love is shown from letting it consume his flesh and bones, from it eating the thing it loves the most, from it knowing every ridge and curve of every organ and cell to put everything back where it was?

how much love is needed to destroy something, to be destroyed, and come back together?

also Trust Exercise is a dang good fic, i need more of this. please. or i'll start making it myself (i'll do it anyways)

This, too, can go both ways, I am a big fan of swapping how Eddie and Venom and portrayed, both in canon and in fanon, just for the fun of it- and I'm just saying... let Eddie tear apart the Symbiote! maybe Eddie wants to rip it apart with his teeth and bare hands! Let them fight and rip each other apart, but with love <3 (oh fight/sparring scenes between friends/lovers, how i love you so)

you can't really see it well, and i'll make a better show of it later, but my design for (movie) Eddie has sharp teeth and that isn't for no reason. I.... ADORE the idea that, after being Venom for so long, Eddie starts adapting parts of them into his "normal" body- sharper teeth, clouded eyes, maybe even some of his skin is pitch black too, just because it makes him feel like Venom in his everyday life, even a little bit.

ough i need to lay down after that but- THANK YOU so much for asking me this, this was such a treat to let out, it's like a weight has been lifted off me lmao

i'll probably have more on this topic later on, but i'll probably use those ideas for art/writing, i love thinking about them :3

EDIT: ALSO ALSO ALSO the way the Venom Symbiote literally goes against it's very nature to love Eddie, it goes against what every other Symbiote does, it betrays it's entire race and planet- JUST TO BE VENOM WITH EDDIE <3

[kawarikisaki]

Okay! So with the new case finished up I'm ready to talk into the void about it.

Starting with the fact that this case has made me reevaluate how strong Hakuba is.

Cause I have always thought of him as being somewhat strong, but lo and behold he can just lift a whole Kaito and keep him on his shoulder for several minutes (it was six pages, and most of it was dramatic deduction time, which is usually not particularly fast dialogue) without any signs of being encumbered by the weight. He does adjust position a few times (his hand moves between panels so either he's adjusting or he's rubbing Kaito’s ass, I'm eating well as a Hakukai shipper but I'll take the innocent explanation) but there’s no sweat, no wince, no commentary about Kaito being heavy. Like, yeah, a fireman's carry is an effective way to carry a person. However, the average person is still going to struggle to lift someone that's a similar size to themselves.

Also, while im sure his assertion that he was going to walk him to the police station was just him being cheeky and bantering... he didn't seem to have any intention to put him down any time soon. I'd like to think that he was waiting for Kaito to call him out on it then make his escape, but if Kaito hadn't he'd have probably kept it up till the deduction was done then walked over to Nakamori-keibu and said something like, "this is Kid by the way, can you handle him from here?"

Anyway... Hakuba strong actually? I have decided to think so.

Can I just say I love all the little faces they make at each other? All the bois, not just Kaito and Hakuba. Granted, the character interactions and shifting dynamics have always been my favorite part of dcmk.

But like....

Hakuba bending down to talk to Conan. Kaito looking to proud of himself when he pulls out the 'hey did you consider it could actually be suicide?' While Conan’s in the background like 'oh shit oh shit oh fuck'. Conan and Kaito both thinking they had Ran Convinced, but she was sus.

Speaking of sus, I think Hakuba figured Conan out.

Sure, that last page had him back off from it and be like, "You got in contact with Shinichi and had him help." And that explaination works but... its an explanation that just makes less sense the more you think about it.

Even if I give the benefit of doubt it doesn't make sense to do it the way Hakuba explained, because if Conan contacted Shinichi to help then why would Conan be acting as the middle man? It'd introduce unnecessary delay to have Shinichi hear what's happening via phone, then Shinichi tell Conan his response, and Conan bowtie it to Kid, and Kid say the lines. (Realistically speaking the way they actually did it should also have this problem, but adding a step like this when in theory its completely unnecessary to have Conan as the middle man beyond just contacting Shinichi is just going to imcrease the delay.)

That said I can actually kind of see how that could be a conclusion he reached from this interaction:

Hakuba, at this point, knows that Shinichi is Kid and that Conan is helping him by supplying lines, but he hasn't figured out the details. So when he notices that Conan reacts before 'Shinichi' that's him reaching that conclusion that he brings up later about Conan being so invested that he was mimicing Shinichi’s expression and attitude.

I don't think he fully believed that, though.

Looking at the information that we know he had:

1. 'Shinichi' is Kid (and also Kaito Kuroba using his real face)

2. Conan is supplying Kid with lines.

3. The lines Kid is saying are from the real Shinichi.

4. Conan gets worked up if you say something that Shinichi would be worked up about

5. Conan has gadgets. (Hakuba is at least aware of the bowtie having speaker/microphone function, bit arguments could be made that he’s aware of the voice changer and also the sleep needles from the events at sunset mansion)

6. (Bonus) In a previous case Hattori had been upset with Hakuba being the representative 'detective of the east' but was completely fine with Conan taking that role.

I think he figured out that Conan was Shinichi, but that he wasn't certain until he brought up 'the real Shinichi' during the deduction and saw Conan begin to panic. I think he had mentioned it purely to get a rise out of Conan and see how he would react, and upon getting his answer he played along and gave Conan an out to jump on because if he exposed him here he wouldn't get the answers as to how this had happened.

And I feel like this read of is is reinforced by his final lines expressing that he understands why Shinichi/Conan would help Kid for the sake of solving the mystery because it's a detective’s nature. Hakuba gets it because he’s doing the same by helping Conan get away with his deception in hopes that doing so will help him get answers to the mystery.

Thats how I've decided to view things anyway, though it is possible that im partially blinded by my hope that he continues to be relevant.

[miokki]

✦ WHEN YOU STUMBLE ON THEM SLEEPING

✰ synopsis: sumeru boys and their sleepy antics

✰ pairing(s): alhaitham, cyno, kaveh and tighnari x gn!reader (all seperate)

✰ content warnings: just fluff

✰ note: i actually wrote this in feb around alhaitham’s birthday so im trying to get my scraps out. also fyi i read @/mrpenguinpants’s green slumber recently is similar.

❈ ALHAITHAM

you had just gone over the summary for your newest assignment with alhaitham, who was dear enough to sit down in the house of daena and go over it with you. the assignment itself wasn’t particularly challenging, yet it didn't align with your interest in study. that was the main reason you asked your boyfriend to assist in your studies. yet from when you'd started your explanation to the time it took you to lift your head from the pages in your lap, you found your boyfriend slumped in his chair, as soft snores left his mouth.

you’re pretty confident in thinking that your voice wasn’t that boring, well, at least not to the greatness of making the acting grand sage alhaitham fall asleep. it was either that or the shiny new title had taken its toll on alhaitham much harder than you had anticipated. but being sure of alhaitham’s abilities, you'd doubt that your boyfriend wouldn’t let something like that beat him so easily. however, rather than dwelling on it, you put the pile of papers back down onto the table you were sitting on before settling back onto the table.

with alhaitham, defenceless under your regard, you decide to use every moment to further soak his features into your brain. his arms laying on both armrests as his head leaned off to the left. shamelessly watching from above as he bathed in the afternoon sunlight, which only seemed to enhance his glowing complexion. even after the longest time, you are still awestruck at how gorgeous and lovely he is. however, you were only able to truly appreciate this after he let go of his tight guard.

but still, there isn’t a single day you don’t remind yourself of it, not that you have to. it feels like you can’t pull your eyes away, stuck in a trance with him as your man focal point. that was, until you realise you've blown your horribly disguised cover for how sickeningly infatuated you are with him. alhaitham, now staring at you with both a surprised and an embarrassed expression on his face, his ears starting to redden before his eyes close again.

pulling yourself out of your daze, you slowly bring your hand to his cheek, softly caressing it. his skin soft as you feel your lover lean into your touch. dragging your thumb across his face as you watch his eyelashes fluttering, his eyes still shut. you notice a small smile sprawled across his lips, the upwards tug on alhaitham’s lips becoming apparent.

“i know you’re awake, pretty boy,” you tease, using your fingertips to gently move his hair covering his eyes.

alhaitham chuckles as he opens his eyes, crimson red and green, gazing into you. you look at him as he places his hand on top of yours, caging your hand on his face. the action feeling both needy and almost desperate. your boyfriend laughing inwardly before looking you in the eyes.

“let me indulge for a bit longer, just this once, habibti.”

❈ CYNO

the title ‘general mahamatra’ is a hefty title to uphold, many become overwhelmed by the responsibility, therefore, avoiding the title as a goal. yet cyno maintains it, and he does it well. so much so that it occasionally stresses you that your boyfriend doesn’t rest enough and might become overworked. albeit, a habit to visit him while he's working just to make sure he's okay. so when you come across him fast asleep in his office, you can’t help but sigh in relief, glad he’s resting up for once. sumeru’s general mahamatra deserves to slack off every once and a while, no? this is deeming that he does a vast majority of sumeru’s upkeeping.

quickly and quietly, you slip through the small gap between the wall and the door, the door slightly squeaking as it brushes against your chest before you get through. you sigh once you're inside and swiftly shut the door to cyno's office. observing your, your view the few nicely potted plants and the tall bookshelves in the back with hundreds of untouched books. and the centrepiece to complete; cyno’s desk, with him, slouched in his chair, arms crossed and his hat still on.

you don’t understand why the akademiya even bothered giving him an office. cyno is supposed outside for almost all of the day, the exception being when he comes back to report things that have happened throughout his duties. he enjoys being outdoors and in action. him, being inside the office defeats the purpose of being a matra. although it is a good place to cool down when the time is presented.

speaking of which, you’re feeling a bit brave today, enough so that you’ve chosen to approach the unconscious general. your body shifting around objects until you're behind his desk, standing beside his figure. keeping a close eye on him in case of any sign of consciousness.

unsurprisingly and one would debate, fortunately(me), you got distracted, your boyfriend being the distractant. spacing out, your only focus was cyno’s sleeping figure whose body moved up and down as he breathed. his lightly tanned skin putting you in a trance, remembering how you reminded him to moisturise for the thousandth time. and his sweet, sweet-toned abs that others swoon over while you are fortuitous enough to rest your head on every night whenever you two are home together relaxing.

it was only after a good five minutes of just marvelling at his abs do you decide to do the next big thing. take off his hat. the hat which was ever so kindly shadowing his facial features. slowly reaching out with your hand, grasping the thing in your hand before gently lifting off your boyfriend's hat.

“boo.”

cyno blatantly said, his monotone voice echoing off the patterned walls as well as your scream. his hat was surprisingly nowhere to be seen as it bounced onto the ground.

“archons, i think i died for a second. baby, that wasn’t funny,” you exclaimed.

“it was pretty funny,” he smiled, biting back a laugh.

“was not,” you mumbled, his arms welcoming you as you fell into his touch.

❈ KAVEH

you were just returning from work, the sun already setting as you arrived at your doorstep. today had been particularly tiring. while there was no problem at hand, your energy levels seemed unusually low. the only thing motivating you to finish well was your desire to go home, have a nice dinner and snuggle in bed with your boyfriend, kaveh, who often stays the night even if he didn’t get locked out of his shared home. even so, you found the man knocking at your door almost every two days, his keys suspiciously disappearing every time.

as this occurrence became a near routine, you decided to give kaveh the spare set of keys to your place. hoping that he would let himself in when you would work late and generally when you weren't available. although, when you first proposed the idea he was far from with it, saying he'll lose the keys like he does his own. it’s only when you dropped it in his hand, closed it up and held it promising to him that you wanted him to have it did he hesitantly agree.

and it's true, you do trust him, you've trusted him more than you ever have with someone. you trust him with the key to your home, not only because you love him but because your boyfriend has a kind heart. the kindest you've come to know and you couldn't dream of kaveh doing something to break your faith in him. besides, the interior of your home has never looked better, and it still feels like home despite the altercations.(fr)

speaking of which, you let out a loud sigh as you shut the front door behind you. kicking off your shoes as you announce your presence. however, you get no response. placing your things down, yelling out your lover's name this time, quietly listening for any signs of kaveh being here. but again nothing, making you think that you've been talking to the house the entire time instead of a person.

still not convinced, you search through all the rooms of your house until you catch a glimpse of blonde hair through the gap between the bedroom door. your eyes lighting up as you quickly walk closer, pushing the door open and walking in to see him sleeping sprawled out on top of the bedsheets. his back facing you as soft breathing filled your ears.

you've come to feel relieved whenever you see kaveh, his presence alone is enough to make your body relax naturally. your body unconsciously moves closer to him when he's nearby. you sigh as you sit beside his figure, the mattress sinking under your weight and the sheets rustling as your hands explore, eventually reaching his exposed back.

since the start of the relationship, you've gained a habit of running your hands across kaveh's skin, tracing shapes and letters into it. constantly drawing random words and shapes into any body part of his you had access to, obviously, if he let you. occasionally peppering kissing on the area as you doodle to your heart's content. as for this instance, your eye caught sight of his open back seeing as the perfect opportunity to trace the shoulder blade and draw little basic shapes.

kaveh secretly loves it. he loves that you make him feel special with your undivided attention solely on him, a smile appearing on his lips as he's under your gaze. he loves the drag of your fingertips against his skin, the warm touch calming him down. kaveh loves you as you draw stars into his sensitive skin, unbeknownst to the fact that he's awake as you whispering "i love you"s under your breath, loving that you secretly pine over him too.

❈ TIGHNARI

tighnari had been particularly worried about a certain deadline he had to meet. while he often does lectures at the akademiya, this specific class he’s been taking lectures for, hasn't been absorbing the lecture’s content as well as anticipated. thus, his need to edit the coursework in a way the amurta students would both understand and fascinate them.

although, you wouldn't imagine your boyfriend being so concerned. perhaps it's due to the lack of idea of how to teach or that the new method mightn't work either, yet he can’t seem to let it rest. sure, it is normal for professors to worry a healthy amount about their students’ studies yet he almost seems obsessed with it. it's the only thing that has come out of his mouth all week.

even as you two are doing reports of the forest’s impending health, he avoids talking about anything but the upcoming lecture. oh? you’re trying to fill out some unfinished paperwork—tighnari is talking his head off about the plans he has. even when you finally think that you'll be free of his chattering the man still manages to mention it when the two of you are lying in bed.

while you do enjoy listening to your boyfriend’s most obscure ramblings you'd very rarely hold him against it's becoming more than something he's interested in. observing it now, it's now borderline obsessive. so much so that you've decided to put some distance between the two of you for now, opting to take another forest ranger’s patrol of the forest. this was in hopes that it would help you clear your mind and start a new leaf before speaking to your lover again.

taking a deep, much-needed deep breath fills your lungs, letting your cheeks puff up before exhaling slowly. you shake your hands at your sides which seemed to be a nervous habit, and then push aside the leafy doors, calling out his name to announce your presence. however, to your surprise, you soon find him sound asleep, using a stack of papers as a pillow.

you gazed at him as his dark, silky locks of hair shined in the sun, his unreasonably, pale porcelain skin giving him a natural glow. the sight stopping you in your tracks for a few minutes just to admire his utterly cute face. yet the position tighnari was sitting in and the way your boyfriend was leaning over the desk seemed far from beneficial to both his posture and neck.

“nari, my love.” you hummed as you walked to his side.

you could only watch as your lover’s fluffy ears twitched in your direction due to the sweetness in your tone. yet you only hear a grumble and some squirming in his seat from the man.

“come on, hun.” you whisper as your left hand travels to his shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth into his skin.

tighnari lifts his head this time, his eyes barely open, hair sticking to his face and forehead only to see you looking with your gentle gaze he can never say no to.

“what time is it?” the man asks, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

your partner’s ears perk up when you giggle, smiling as he listens to your angelic voice, the sound always hitting his ears in the best way imaginable. his eyes lighting up and sparkling as soon as sees you smile.

“its afternoon now.” you reply, feeling him nuzzle into your touch when you run your free hand through his hair.

“why did you leave me for so long?”

“oh you know why.”

do not copy or repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2023

[certifiedskywalker]

Start of Something More - Daemon Targaryen

Anonymous asked: Hi ilove ur writings so much ur so talented im so happy that ur back again, if ur taking requests could u please write one daemon targaryen with hightower reader or reader having feelings for him but he marries laena and afterwards rhaenyra also with something like betrayal during the dance i know im just rumbling but i trust you would make a masterpiece ur so good with ideas and words thank you.

He hates your father. Your father hates him. Naturally, it was the Gods-ordained start of a torrid, love affair.

Your father tapped the stem of his chalice and you took to your cue. Swift and in silence, as if to be invisible, you darted over to the Hand of the King. With a slight tilt of the wine pitcher, Arbor Red trickled into the half-empty cup with only the slightest noise. Then, you did a round about the table, checking the chalices of King Viserys, the Master of Coin, and so forth, pouring where more libations were needed. All while being imperceptible.

Though, from his seat as the newly appointed Master of Laws, Daemon Targaryen always seemed to see you. His eyes would trace your path during conversations of grave importance, like tithes and taxes, matters that needed legislation. Matters that needed an attentive Master of Laws, which Daemon was not. At least, not when you did your rounds.

And you could feel it, his watching. His eyes would linger on you as you found your place beside the cups and bottles once more. He would smile too, a wry expression that reached his eyes in a far too charming way and had you gritting your teeth with annoyance.

“He’s no good, Daemon.”

“The next Maegor, unless Viserys denounces him.”

“Our House will be at risk if Daemon ever sits the Throne.”

“Stay yourself away from him.”

“Daemon has a distaste for Hightower green.”

At first, you discounted your father’s words. The feud between Otto Hightower and Prince Daemon was no secret, particularly to the Hightower children. You and Alicent had endured countless recountings of court and reports of debauchery in Flea Bottom, all of which Daemon featured heavily. So countless that your father’s warnings echoed in your head whenever you met the Rogue Prince’s gaze. His eyes gleamed like signal fires; his voice rang like the siege bells.

In Small Council meetings, he was loud, pushing for laws that tightened the Crown’s grip on King’s Landing, and bright, weaving between Otto’s advice to Viserys with the cold logic of a battle-hardened knight. Daemon was everything your father warned you about, everything and more; and how alluring that more was when it shone through.

“Curating a select force of warriors to maintain the King’s peace within the city walls is vital to strengthening your entire governance, brother.”

“In the Small Council chamber, you will address his majesty King Viserys as such,” your father intervened, waving a dismissive hand at Daemon. “How do you aim to keep his peace when you fail to address your King as befitting your station.”

Daemon rolled his eyes right into you, despite your cupbearer station being tucked in the shadows of two pillars. He smiled at you, a softer thing than usual and in it, you saw that more. You felt in tickle in your chest, how it reached out from there like blooming flower petals, spreading itself until its newness was all you could detect. 

So clouded by Daemon you were that you missed how your father saw everything, and everything Daemon was in his politicking mind. He coughed, and the sound broke you out of your reverie with a start. You nearly started off with the wine pitcher towards your father, but Otto placed a palm over his glass while the other squeezed at the ceramic ball that denoted his presence at the meeting. 

“If we can move forth to more pressing matters, there is the cost and planning of the Princess Rhaenyra’s upcoming nameday tourney. That is if you wish to repeat the celebration from the year previous, my King?”

“Yes, of course. Though, leave the day of her birth itself unimpeded by plans. She wants the family to picnic in the Dragonpit.”

“That will ease the expense,” Lord Beesbury noted, a smile stretching through the wrinkles in his aged face.

“Not that the coffers are waning, yes?” Your father was quick to ask. Lord Beesbury began bumbling out an answer when Daemon cut through the chatter. 

“Cupbearer,” you flicked your head and saw the Prince raise his chalice above the heads at the table. “I find myself in need of more wine.”

Heat eeked into your face at his calling out, but you quickly made your way over to him with the pitcher in hand. The metal of the vessel cooled you slightly, but you were warmed back to life almost as soon as you stood by Daemon. Heat seemed to emanate from him as if a fire burned beneath his skin. It didn’t help that, as you stood and poured the Arbor Red into his chalice, Daemon’s hand brushed against you.

Through the fabric that covered your thigh, you felt his knuckles. His touch shocked you into a shudder, a gesture unbecoming of a Small Council cupbearer, and you fought to regain your composure as the back of his knuckles continued to stroke. Your steady pour slowed as Daemon fell into a sort of pattern with his movement, a looping touch against you that had you floundering like a Velaryon-caught swordfish. 

When you finally freed yourself from his net, you let your eyes flick down. Daemon’s gaze was already fixed on you when you looked at him, watching you, as he always did. More laced his smile, shone in his eyes. As you stepped back to return to your station, his touch lingered with his fingertips reaching after you. For a moment, you feared his grip would close about your garments and pull you back until you tripped over yourself. In your head, Daemon made you a mess with spilled wine and his lips.

Eventually, the chatter of the Small Council filtered back into your ears and tarnished any thought of Daemon’s lips. Thank the Gods. 

“On account of marvelous weather,” King Viserys said suddenly, “I call this meeting to a close and order you all to soak in the sunshine.”

He stood, and the rest of the Small Council followed suit. As Viserys passed through the doors, Daemon snuck swiftly after his brother’s heels, pushing himself out of his seat with such speed that you were nearly knocked to your feet. The Prince did not spare a glance in your direction as he moved, even shouldering past you with a roughness that stood in stark contrast to his touch from mere moments before.

When Daemon charged out of the chambers, you recovered yourself with a steadying, though still trembling, breath and moved towards the wine stash. You set the pitcher to the side before fumbling for the corked bottle. Before you could clean the station entirely, you heard the familiar gravel of your father’s voice.

“Pay no heed to Daemon.”

You turned and bowed your head respectfully. When you lifted your head, you waited until the other lords and leaders of the land filed out to speak. “You have grown a sort of patience with our Prince. I fear I have yet to grow my own as he does not…regard me in the same manner as he does you.”

Otto, not quite picking up your dropped implications, nodded at you before filing out with the rest of them. You watched your father disappear behind the Small Council Chamber doors. You watched until a pang in your chest reminded you to breath. A gasp fell from your lips and your whole body shuddered, as if Daemon’s touch had never left.

A distracting warmth played with you, tickled you to the point where your cleaning of the wine station was slowed. So slowed that palace attendants filed into the room to collect the chalices for the kitchen and wipe the table to a shine. So slowed that those same palace attendants left you to yourself again.

At least, they left you for a little while for, as you finally finished, the doors crashed open, lacking any of the decorum typical of a servant in the Red Keep. You jumped at the sound, spinning on your heels, armed only with your furrowed brows and angrily muddled mind, to face whomever entered. 

With his chest heaving and face flushed, Daemon was leaned over the table, his arms taut supports as he stared down at the shining stone. At the sight, you took a step back, with your rear bumping into the wine station. The wood teetering against the floor, a dull, hollow noise that brought Daemon’s eyes up to you.

“My Prince,” you bowed, trying to play off your surprise. “Apologies.”

Daemon scoffed and straightened his posture as his sharp, gliting gaze lingered on you. “For what?”

“Apologies,” you echoed, hoping to find your answer between the syllables. “Apologies for earlier, my Prince. I should have been-” your eyes fell to his hand for a moment before flicking back up before you got lost in the mere memory of his touch, “-more attentive with the pouring of the wine.”

“My, my,” Daemon drawled, stalking towards you with each step whispering of the intent of something more. “Your father has wound you up tight with the ropes of etiquette, hasn’t he? That is a true shame.”

He continued towards you, a smile pulling at his lips as you shook your head. “My father taught me a means of surviving King’s Landing.”

“He taught you how to elevate him at court,” Daemon countered, “by being a docile little lamb.”

Daemon was so close that you could smell the dragon on him, the cinders and wine. The part of you caught on what your father failed to see wondered if you would be able to taste the wine if the Rogue Prince kissed you. You had never partook despite your work. Would the fruits of your labor taste sweet or bitter?

“Though, perhaps not so docile,” he mused, his hand rising slightly, just enough to brush against the side of your thigh again. You fought the shudder that trailed his touch. “Your father would not approve of this, now would he?”

“He hates you,” you said, hoping the words would sting; but they fell from your lips deafened by the softness of the shock of getting what you wanted. 

“Oh, dear, I know it,” Daemon said, leaning in. His nose brushed against yours and his breath danced about your face, your neck. More, you wanted more, and all patience grown was squandered. “This,” his wandering hand squeezed your hip and you gasped softly, “would kill him.”

You caught your breath after a moment and met Daemon’s gaze with all the strength you could muster. The Hightower of you leapt out off your tongue. “Unless he kills you first.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Daemon asked with a grin.

Suddenly thirsty, you leaned up and kissed him, hard. Deep. Daemon’s hands clutched at you and his body pressed you against the wine station until you were caught between its cold stone and his warmth. It was delicious, and the fruits of your labor sweet.