#including when they jumped between colours

[bookworm-2692]

And here we are everyone! The final update to the Life Tracker with all the chaos at the end! Apologies for the delay here - most of my timing notes were done by Sunday, and then the graphs were complete by the middle of Tuesday, and now it’s Thursday morning. I have no good excuse this time, but here it is!

Previous posts: Session 7, Session 6, Session 5, Session 4. As usual, below the cut is close ups and data and commentary!

There were 37 deaths I counted this session up to Pearl’s permadeath, and then Impulse died twice more before some off-camera life exchanges occurred (Scott showed the first two, so they’re here with their timings, but then after that no one showed when Impulse gained an hour (so got two more kills), Martyn lost an hour (so died once), and Scott gained half an hour (so got a kill), and as you see something doesn’t add up and given that immediately after they get down to their final life I have elected to ignore it and just adjust the time anyway). Then there are the three consensual lava deaths, and then the three final deaths... so there were 45 on camera deaths this session, plus some extra off camera time shuffling.

I actually missed two deaths from Session 7 as well - I had them in my notes so my number of deaths matched what should be, but I somehow forgot to put them in the excel data, so I put them back this week. They were when Impulse fell and Cleo got the kill credit, as when as the Grian double kill on Bdubs and Cleo. I have also removed the 30 minutes I awarded Bdubs for his wolf killing Scar so that he could permadie at the correct time - though I left the 30 minutes Bdubs got for killing Joel in self-defence as a Yellow, as Cleo’s timer shows that she still had this, so I wanted consistency there.

Close up of Sessions 6-8 together

Close up of Sessions 7-8 together

Here you can see all the permadeaths together! It was far harder to label these lines than when players were alive and in a nice orderly line, so I hope this is fairly clear. And a close up of Session 8 alone:

Crazy how Pearl was briefly the one with most time, and Impulse’s habit of keeping his mouth shut about his time served him well - two hours into the session he had 4.5 hours, while Scott and Martyn were both down to 2 hours (and Grian on 1 and Pearl and Etho on half an hour). Scott wasn’t kidding when he said he stole all of Impulse’s time there.

I also decided to acknowledge Martyn’s /kill at the end there, and made him lose the rest of his time there.

Another interesting thing is the fact that Etho and Pearl’s mutual killing of each other, where they both net lost half an hour, didn’t actually effect their final placements. They were on under half an hour when they died, but if they hadn’t killed each other, they still would have been under an hour, and still would have permadied. Grian was definitely on the most time at his permadeath, and BigB got so damn close to it before being saved. If it had taken Mean Gills + TIES even a minute longer to find them and kill them, BigB would have died then (and Pearl may not have lost as much time as quickly as she did).

I do want to acknowledge that Pearl did gain an hour from permakilling Cleo. Because it was PvP, the half hour got automatically added. However, because Cleo permadied, her death message took up the entire screen and completely hid the message telling Pearl she gained 30 minutes, so Pearl then gave herself another 30 minutes. Which means she may have otherwise died when Etho pushed her, but I’m willing to let it slide - Martyn also gained 30 minutes for an unknown reason back between Session 3 and Session 4 that was never acknowledged or removed. He also never fell below two hours until they agreed to equalise, so it probably didn’t effect anything, but I do want both to be acknowledged here.

I also created the graph for the average time per team again, in two forms.

First: where dead people are included in the average

And the Session 6-8 close up of this

And the Session 7-8 close up

And below is the Session 7-8 close up of the version where dead people are removed from the average

I don’t have much to say here other than I think it’s interesting comparing the two. The first one suppresses how much time Impulse has on account of Skizz and Tango both being dead, but the second one shows it loud and clear.

Now is time for the data screenshots! This session was longer than every session except for the first - they had been averaging around two hours, but this time was an hour and a half. Presumably, this is because at the 2 hour mark, there were still 6 people alive, and three of them had an hour or less to live, and 15 minutes later there were only three but at that point you may as well let it play out.

The first 50 minutes of Session 8:

The next hour and 10 minutes of Session 8:

The final 30 minutes of Session 8:

As usual the red and green boxes indicate deaths and kills. The blue boxes is what I’m using for the “time equalisation” the three of them did off camera. I really tried to work out who would have killed who there but something didn’t work and then I decided it didn’t matter lmao. I did do their three lava deaths separately though because I’m still being anal there.

After doing all that, I finally worked out a better way of zooming in on the graphs, by remembering I can actually force the axes to be smaller, which means more detail can actually be seen. So here those are below.

Life Tracker Session 1-4:

I also finally worked out how to rotate the text boxes because it wasn’t working earlier, and I think it looks so much better there!

Life Tracker Session 5-8:

Here unfortunately the text on the left had to be huge for the spacing to work, but then on the right the text had to be much smaller so I could try to space all the names out at the point of death.

Life Tracker Session 6-8:

I actually made the 6-8 one before the 1-4 or 5-8 ones, so before I worked out the angled text, but I think this still works with just the names at the point of death (the start of the name is at the point of death, unless there’s commas in between and then they’re all at the same point)

Life Tracker Session 7-8:

Lots of little details here! We’re close enough that Tango’s death can separate from Scar and Cleo. You can see vertical lines close together rather than overlapping as well which is nice!

Life Tracker Session 8:

This one I did forget to change the title, but you can tell it’s Session 8 only. Tango, Scar, and Cleo died within two minutes of each other, it’s so tight. And Impulse and Scott were within six seconds of each other, so that was always gonna be impossible to separate.

Team Average Time Session 1-4:

Team Average Time Session 5-8:

Team Average Time Session 6-8:

Team Average Time Session 7-8:

Team Average Time Session 8:

I also have a copy of the above four with the dead people excluded, which I can share if people are curious, but this post is maybe getting a bit long right now, and I think the version where dead people are included is the better one to show - more accurate to team strength.

I also made some other graphs while procrastinating this post (because I was procrastinating making a decision about some of Bdubs’s deaths/kills to make the time work), but I will include those in their own post as this one is absolutely far too long right now.

I definitely had fun making these graphs each week, so I hope you guys enjoyed too!!

[interloved]

modern!anakin skywalker as your professor + age gap

lowkey daddy professor!anakin x bimbo!reader

description box; anakin is your professor and your boyfriend. that blurs the lines between his job and you being his student sometimes — but he can’t ever deny his sweet girl a request, and this time you want him to give his honest opinion on the essay you’ve written for an assignment he gave his students, including you.

warnings; nsfw warning, blow job, MINOR BLOGS DNI!!, age gap, smut under the cut!

HE’S TAKING TOO LONG to read it. he’s rereading the same lines, again and again, and he’s frowning.

“you don’t like it.”

you hate the way your quivers, like you’re weak and… and dependant. oh, but you are. you depend on his every word and action like he’s your lifeline.

“no — no, sweetheart, i do, it’s just…” and then, anakin sighs and sets aside his glasses, looking into your eyes directly with his startlingly piercing, frost-coloured eyes.

he’s struggling to find words that won’t bruise your ego too badly. anakin never lies to you, but he can’t find it in him to give you a brutally honest review.

anakin sits on the couch as you pace nervously in front of him, the table in front of him filled with documents, his laptop and… that damned essay.

“it’s just what?” you inquire, and your voice is already breaking, “you hate my essay! i can hear it!”

and then, all the dams break; you’re turning away from him and all the tears start flooding and the overthinking starts to claw its way into your soul.

“you’re… you’re gonna give me an F! you’re going to fail me, i’m going to fail this class — you, you hate my essay…” you’re falling into complete despair.

anakin winces, this is exactly the reaction he had wanted to prevent.

“oh, c’mere, sweet girl, i don’t hate your essay. it’s just a little, er… childish wording, but that’s nothing to worry about — ‘m not gonna fail you, all right?”

you sniffle, and for a moment, your tears stop. “y-you’re not?”

anakin winces again — he may be your boyfriend and he may love you, but he’s also your professor and has to keep a certain neutrality towards the work you offer to him as his student. but he can’t deny it, being so close to you, it’s been blurring the lines of professionalism. you’re such a sweet, little thing — so pretty and so young, so soft and so kind-hearted. he couldn’t ever say no to any of your requests.

and maybe you’ve learned to use that against him somehow. he’s given you way too many A’s and B’s that you did not deserve because as much as he loves you as a person, you are a bad writer. you’re not hopeless; there is definitely a good basic idea and core in every one of your essays, just the execution… somehow fails to be amazing every time. and he’s not exaggerating.

“yeah… yeah, i’ll give you a C, m’kay, kid? it’s not a bad essay, pretty, it just needs a little polishing.” he comforts you, caging your, in comparison to him, small frame in his warm, trained arms.

but this time, you frown. “a C? you… you’ve never given me a C before.”

it’s always been A’s and B’s.

anakin struggles to find the right words again, “well, this time your performance was a tiny bit… lacking… but just a little, darling, no need to cry — aw, sweetheart, don’t cry…”

“l-l-lacking? i’m… lacking?” you wail as you push away his arms and pace to the kitchen, this time sobbing violently.

when he reaches you, your eyes are all puffy and red, and he panics.

“no, you’re not lacking!” he protests, think, anakin, think, “i’ll… i’ll give you an A, m’kay? so stop crying, please, you’re too pretty to be crying like that over a grade.”

your sobbing stops slowly, and a relieved smile makes its way onto your lips. “r-really? thank you so much, ani! love you so much!”

you squeal and jump into his arms, and it’s like the rainbows have started showing after the storm. anakin laughs at your excitement but mentally slaps himself — he’d sworn himself he wouldn’t give you good grades without you earning them anymore, but it appears he really just can’t say no to his little darling.

“i’ll make it up to you, i promise!” you swear to him, covering his handsome face with kisses, and he grins cheekily.

“oh really? how’re you gonna do that, little lady?” he chuckles good-naturedly.

and you think, you think real hard. and you jump down, out of his embrace, and you thank him in the only way you know.

you lead him to the couch and settle between his legs, and you unbuckle his belt.

“oh, like that? i didn’t mean that—” anakin stops whatever he was going to say when you take him whole. whole.

a choked, throaty moan escapes his lips and almost automatically, his big hands reach for your hand; his hand almost covers the whole back of your head, and his fingers are getting tangled in your soft hair, and he bucks up into your soft lips.

“fuck,” he groans and he closes his eyes, and he looks so breathtaking, so handsome, like a greek god, “god, what did i do to deserve you… such a beautiful, obedient girl… must’ve saved a country in my past life to deserve you.”

he feels your lips curling up at his praise and he looks down, and it’s a sight to behold. big, innocent doe eyes looking up at him like he’s a god you’re worshipping, nothing but pure admiration and love shining in those eyes.

“my god, you’re so adorable,” he praises you, eyes closed and brows furrowed so prettily, moaning when you begin to deepthroat him, your pretty head going up and down, up and down, “so, so, so pretty…”

and then, his chiselled abs tenses, his thighs quiver slightly, and you know he’s close.

“c’mon,” he whispers, “swallow.”

and you obey, like his good little girl.

if he’s getting thanked this dedicatedly by a student, surely he can make exceptions from time to time.

he doesn’t get paid enough anyway.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem! reader 18+ requested by @loveshotzz and @palmtreesx3

You thought you were doing an A plus job, all things considered. 

The corner of the restaurant was quiet, dark. Dimly lit with tabletop sconces that glowed amber, bouncing off the white linen. It was much fancier than your usual haunts, but Eddie was only back in town for a few days and your boyfriend had insisted on paying. His treat, he’d said. 

And Steve was really living up to the word, his fingers doing more for you than the chocolate lava cake you’d been ignoring in favour of white knuckling the edge of the booth. Steve was tucked into the suede bench next to you, talking across the table to Eddie about his new single, guitar solos, tickets prices - you didn’t even know anymore. The boy had one arm around your shoulders, an affectionate and casual touch but it only seemed to be a distraction for what his other hand was doing underneath the tablecloth. 

You hadn’t thought too much about it when he’d picked out a dress from your wardrobe for you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and telling you he liked that one, that you looked so pretty in it. Now, you realised his plan, flushing hot when the waitress came to take away your empty dinner plates, Steve thanking her with a polite smile as his fingertips skimmed up the inside of your bare thigh. 

You weren’t sure how he was doing it, talking so casually to Eddie while two of his fingers were pressed to your clit, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. To anyone else - hopefully Eddie included, it looked like your boyfriend was resting his hand on your leg, all affection. 

Innocent. 

But if Eddie’s laugh wasn’t as loud and the music coming from the speakers above your table wasn’t as close, you were sure everyone would have heard the slick, wet noises Steve’s fingers were making against your cunt. You were too wet, too keyed up, sitting on the edge of an orgasm and it kept getting teased closer when Steve moved his big hand and stretched the lace of your underwear against your folds, all friction and pressure. 

You tried to nod when the boy’s did, laughed a second after Eddie, smiled and hummed when Steve asked you a question, his eyes dark, knowing. Teasing. He bumped his nose against your cheek, pressed a kiss there, all sweetness and light as he pinched your clit between his finger and thumb. And when you jumped a little, brows scrunching, you tried to pass it off as cough, clearing your throat with a burn in your chest and Eddie was looking at you, smiling in a way that made you think he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought. 

And when the boy’s finally finished their desserts and you knew Steve would taste like chocolate and strawberries when he finally kissed you, Eddie leaned onto the table, his arms folded and his eyes hooded, lashes fanning over his cheeks as he watched the way Steve’s wrist moved almost minutely under the table. 

You held your breath, panic in your throat, ringing in your ears and you were just about to wrench Steve’s hand away when your boyfriend sped up his efforts. 

And then:

“You gonna let her come, Harrington?” 

You were on fire, embarrassed and turned on and everything in between. Eddie was watching your face now and you wondered if he could see the glow in your cheeks from the sconce, from the low lighting all around. You whined, unable to help it, turning to bury your face in the crook of Steve’s neck and you felt the boy laugh, the vibration of it in his throat and he kissed at your forehead, your hairline, all while rubbing two, thick fingers on your clit, over and over and over—

You heard Eddie take a sip of his wine, red, a Merlot. The same colour as your lipstick. “She’s been so good, this whole time,” he cooed and he leant back on his chair. “Make her come, Steve, s’only fair.”

And as if the boy hadn’t been toying with you this entire time, as if Steve wasn’t entirely in control, he leaned down, chin ducking to nose at your cheek, whispering in your ear while his eyes were on the other boy. “You gonna let Eddie watch you come, honey?”

You weren’t sure if you had a choice after that, not with the way both boy’s attention had you dizzy. 

[changisworld]

Humiliation with Jeongin.

->Humiliation kink: A humiliation kink is intentional participation in an activity that involves being humiliated, beaten, bound, or otherwise abused, including verbally, to experience sexual excitement.

Word count:1,845

->Smut warnings: Jeongin is MEAAAN, PIV, degradation, body cumshot, hair pulling, pinching, so much dirty talk, 2 slaps, sir kink, hint of a second round

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post, 18+ MDNI!!

Kinktober masterlist here

Main masterlist here

You would have bet your entire life savings on the fact that Jeongin would be a sub or at least a switch when you were first getting to know him & first started dating, but then you would have ended up bankrupt, because he is in fact the complete opposite.

You, in his eyes, have crossed a line & pissed him off by apparently flirting with Bangchan at a movie night you were at with Jeongin(you were just sitting between jeongin & chan, that is flirting in his eyes apparently) so of course the minute you get home he ‘needs’ to set a firm reminder.

“get naked n meet me in the bedroom in two minutes, you know how to sit.” Jeongin barks as he takes off his coat & places it on the rack, kicking off his trainers & storming past you, not even looking at you in the eyes & you shudder at the coldness of his words & you take a quiet huff as you take off your own jacket before almost running to the bedroom.

You kick off your flats & strip from your leggings & Jeongins shirt that you’ve claimed for your own & you ponder for a moment before deciding to keep your underwear & bra on, biting your bottom lip in anticipation as you settle down on your knees, the carpet burning your kneecaps but you choose to ignore it as you settle down right in front of the bedroom door, & just a couple of minutes later, you can hear Jeongin walking down the hall before entering the room.

The smell of his baby powder & vanilla shampoo fills your nose & you find it comforting, but the second you see the way his fox eyes are staring down at you, that quickly disappears.

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid? i told you to get naked & you can’t even do that right.” he says, a hint of disgust in his voice, & you have to mentally remind yourself that he doesn’t really mean it.

“thought it would look nice for you” you respond, trying to make your voice sound monotone, but he can see right through it.

“no, you’re just incapable of listening, you just wanna hide your tits from me because they’re covered in hickies, who gave you them?” he cackles as he grabs your cheek with his long fingers, pinching it tightly & you hold back a hiss.

“you. y-you gave me them” you reply, eyes glossy as you look up at him & he smiles at you, but you can tell it’s full of venom. “& who am i? tell me” he snarks back instantly, faking a pout.

“you, sir, can I touch you?” you ask, your voice a higher pitch than usual, trying to sound more innocent & Jeongin rolls his eyes at your words. “Take your bra off, then i’ll think about it.” he whips back at you as he pulls his own sweatpants down just enough, along with his boxers to let his cock spring free & he just lets it hang, putting his own pleasure aside for now just to watch you, red tip red & leaky already, the most delicious shine around the entire tip which makes your mouth fill with drool.

You nod your head at his words & you unclasp your bra before letting it fall right in front of you on the floor bed or returning your hands behind your back, the brown healing hickies & also the newer, still a purple-reddish colour & Jeongins cock jumps at the sight.

“Maybe you can listen to me! beg for my cock & i’ll give you it.” he chuckles as he holds the base of his cock before jerking himself off slowly & you let out a displeased moan at the sight before you look up at him with puppy eyes.

“please sir, just gimme it, i’ll do anything, please!” you plead as you shift from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort on your knees, the carpet digging in, & it seems to be that Jeongin takes the tiniest ounce of pity on you.

“on the bed then seeing since you’re too much of a fucking baby to handle even being on the floor" he speaks up, his voice sounding annoyed as he walks past you, rolling his eyes as he sets himself on the bed & sitting against the head board, still fully clothed with just his long cock out & you follow him like a lost kitten.

You situate yourself on his lap, because you both know that this is how this usually goes at this point & Jeongin grabs the top of your panties & pulls it towards him before letting go so the fabric smacks against your skin & your hips buck & he chuckles meanly.

"You can do the job of holding them to the side, mkay? Turn around & ride me, don't want to look at you when you're being so gross towards my own friends." he almost growls & you whimper.

"Innie I only sat next to him, wanna kiss you, i'm sorry." you sniffle, holding back tears as you lay your hands on his chest, your covered core resting on his bare cock but he doesn't give in to your pretty face, instead he reaches behind you & grabs a handful of your hair before tugging you only inches away from his face, giving it a light slap on your right cheek, grinning at the way you whimper.

"Stop making excuses you sound ridiculous, get a grip y/n, you knew what you were doing & now you can deal with it, don't make me repeat myself." his voice decorated with venom as he helps you flip around & picks up his cock, jerking himself off as you hover above him.

"You don't need prep, do you? probably wet enough from pretty much fawning over Chan all night." he speaks from behind you as his tip drags through your folds a couple of times before it's piercing you & before you can push yourself down onto him slowly enough to adjust, Jeongin is forcing your hips down on his cock & you let out a pained hiss at the overwhelming burning sensation.

“cmon, make me cum” jeongin says deadpan, but you don’t miss the way his toes curl in front of you. You let out a whimper as you pick your hips up & then clash them back down, trying to set a pace that doesn’t kill you with how long his cock is, eating your cervix & probably pushing it further into you.

The painful stretch turns into pleasure as you start to bounce on him & you’re doing your best to not be too loud so you can hear Jeongins moans behind you, but he is having none of it.

“don’t be so quiet, lemme hear how good I’m making you feel, could chan make you feel like this?” he purrs & you let out a small squeak as he purposely moves his hips just a smidge & his tip punches into your G-spot which makes your legs tremble, your pace faltering.

“N-no jeo-sir! only you.” you reply & he just chuckles as he gives your ass a spank, eyes entranced in the way your ass is jiggling in front of him, making his cock twitch inside you as squelching noises of your cunt fills the room, your cunt clenching at the sounds bouncing off of the walls.

Jeongin smuggly looks at you from behind & before you can even realise, Jeongin is grabbing your arms that were leaning on his knees as you were bouncing & pulls your arms behind you, forcing all of your weight on your legs.

Your eyes widen at the stretch but also the new angle & you can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you.

“gonna cu-cum, please! le-lemme cum” you squeal as you use the rest of your strength to try bounce quicker to push you over the edge quicker but Jeongin is quick to push you forward so your ass is in the air & he pulls out of you before he rolls you on your back & settles himself between your legs, his soaked cock making his hand wet.

Jeongin grabs the soaked through fabric of your panties that had been digging into your right inner thigh when you had shoved them to the side & covers your cunt with it, your swollen clit poking through & he glues his eyes to it as he starts jerking himself off above your panties, angling himself so his tip fucks against your now sheen panties & you let out a moan of desperation.

“Wan- cum!” you bark at him & he detaches his eyes from your cunt that he’s fucking against & not in & looks at you, both of you showing fucked our faces, his sharp eyes full of lust, an animalistic look filling them.

“maybe you should have thought about that then, hmm?” he teases & you shut your legs to try retaliate, but Jeongin pinches your inner thigh until you let out a yelp & you reopen your legs & he dips his cock under your panties, your cunt rubbing his cock on the underside & your soiled underwear hugging his top part & he rolls his head back, this time him being the one moaning.

“gonna cum on your panties for you, you want that hmm? you can wear these with Chan & ask him to tell you how i taste” he chuckles, trying to hide how so beyond pissed he is at just the thought of what he is saying & with a low, guttural groan, thin ropes of cum shoots from his tip, your wet panties catching a lot & keeping it on your shaved pube area but a bit still lands on your lower tummy.

You look up at him, getting butterflies & even more soaked at the sight of his pretty face as he comes undone, his eyes scrunched shut as his fluffy hair now damp & sticking to his face & his cheeks a blushed colour.

He pants as his orgasm settles back down & he looks down at you, his eyes completely different & you’re not complaining because even though Jeongin can be so so so mean during sex, his post nut clarity always makes him feel a tiny bit ‘guilty’ in a way & he instantly becomes thee sweetest person.

He strips your panties from you & pretty much jumps on you, kissing you.

“I love you, don’t take anything of what i said personally, didn’t mean it!” he murmurs between pecks & you can’t help but blush.

“I know innie, don’t stress” you respond, caging him above you with your arms as you hug him but he wiggles free & shimmies down.

“i’ll make you cum since you were so good to me, wanna show my apology.” he says, his face plastered with his usual cheeky look.

->Taglist & anon list are open!

@ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @jisungml @minniesverse @mikaelless @missystay @lixies-favorite-cookie @kissesmellow21 @keshet21

(if your name is NOT in grey, it’s because it wouldn’t let me tag you :( )

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & WRITING LOVE LETTERS TO YOU .

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic domestic fluff. an. in honour of @celestiamail 's opening! also long distance with the men. eugh| please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

xiao's letters to you often come short, sweet, and straight to the point. he saves his love for when he next meets you – it's almost as if him in person and him who writes the letters are two different people. you've learnt to manage your expectations though – that is how xiao thinks, and it doesn't mean that he loves you any less. in fact, he loves you so much, he prefers to show you his love in person.

zhongli

quite unlike xiao, zhongli's letters to you are frequently long-winded. he goes on and on and on about his day, what he's seen, what he's eaten; you can see the ink colour change due to him running out of ink and having to change, and you chuckle, knowing how your lover is. although long, his words don't seem incessant. you hang on to every word he writes, hungry for more.

diluc

diluc's letters to you seem as if his worries just jump out at you when you first read it. the content is mostly about his concern for you, how are you doing, are you doing well? please talk to me, i'll even send more paper to you, just write to me more often. it's not actually on, you, however – you write to him at least twice a week. he is worrisome, but you know that he cares for you, so so much.

kaeya

when kaeya writes a letter to you, it's often filled with inside jokes that have been underlined and arrowed with a "get it? get it?" memo next to it. it makes you chuckle and mentally reply, "yes, kaeya. i get it.", which you include in your reply letter. kaeya's letters are cheeky, with a hint of good-natured worry – never overprotective, never uncaring, but just right.

childe

childe's letters are always sent with a hint of bittersweetness – with the risk of his job (yes, even though he's a powerful harbinger) – it's never telling which letter would be his last. treasure his familiar handwriting and the sweet, sweet words he uses, and hug it's warmth closer to your chest. his words are sweet, and he always ends it with til the next letter, my love.

neuvillette

neuvillette's letters are always written with never-ending formality – even though you've chastised him through and through that you are his lover, not a client of a court case, the formality of his words never turn off. it's hard enough for him to write with enough delicacy with his limited knowledge on human emotion, and writing in between the lines? he's trying his best, and you make sure that he knows it. he loves you.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[storiesfromafan]

could you do a fic with mattheo x y/n including the words, i wish i'd never met you. maybe like they got in a fight and now he's trying to comfort her, but she doesn't want to hear it? thank you so much, i love your content

A/N: thank you for the submission 😊 I hope you like this, it is angst haha.

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem!Reader

The Arguement

He could be so infurating! He could make your blood boil, both in a good way but mostly a bad way. Mattheo Riddle might be your endearing boyfriend, yet he got on your nerves more then ever after you got together. It was all sweet and dream like to start. It began with parchment notes in class then small conversations at meal times. You even began to sit with his friends, and soon Pansy Parkinson became a good friend.

With time and a few dates Mattheo had some red flags begin to show. Yet wearing rose colour glasses, you made excues or turned a blind eye to them. And once you gained the title of Mattheo Riddle’s Girlfriend those red flags grew more. He could be jealouse or rude to males around you or who gave you the time of day, was possesive, could be demanding, ignore you for days, just to name a few.

Which brings us back to the current moment of another school day at Hogwarts. Classes were done for the day but you and Pansy had taken to the Library to study for Snape’s potions test tomorrow. Being Slytherin gave those students in that house some brownie points with Snape, but do poorly in his class and you might as well pack your bags. Snape had pride in Slytherin, so expectations were high.

Things had been going well in the Library. Pansy was greatful for your help, as you were a bit more put together then her. And the extra study was beneficial for you. Over the hour you both were there, you were joined by other Slytherin students who were panicing. Among them was Jordan Allen and Gil Williams. They were both nice and respectful guys, you’d actually known Jordan since your first trip on the Hogwart’s Express. So you both were studying the same book, debating on what Snape’s test would entail from it. And along the way you’d both began to joke around, which hadnt gone noticed by the others around you both.

Unfortuatly Mattheo, along with Draco and Blaise, had decided to join you and Pansy at this moment. Upon seeing the banter and laughter between his girlfriend and a Slytherin student he didn’t care for, Mattheo’s expression grew dark. The boys at his side, as well as Pansy, saw the change in the Slytherin heart throb. All three knew this was not going to end well. And it didn’t.

Mattheo walked over to where you were sitting, once standing behind you he leaded down till his face was next to yours. “Hello Love” Mattheo said in a husky voice.

You jumped not realising that your boyfriend had showed up. You felt a little guilty not noticing him. “Hello!” You replied in surprise before planting a kiss to his cheek.

Mattheo had turned his gaze to the male next to you, staring him down as you kissed his cheek. It was Mattheo’s way of showing the male you were his. Jordan eventually everted his gaze from your boyfriend when the dark look in Mattheo’s deep brown orbs became too much. You noticed the smirk that formed on Mattheo’s lips before he turned his attention to you. Unsure what he was so proud of, you looked back to your friend and saw how he looked down at the book on the table, looking a little frazzled.

Then it hit you. Mattheo, who you thought was being kind of sweet, was actually being a jealous, pompos ass. Feeling your blood starting to boil, which only grew hotter quickly when Jordan decided to excuse himself. That was the final straw. This was the last male friend Mattheo had intimidated and scared off. By this time Mattheo had smuggly taken Jordan’s seat, drawing you closer to him. But you weren’t having it. Slaming your textbook closed, you packed up for book and other things before telling Pansy you were heading out. Not once even giving Mattheo any attention. He didn’t deserve it. Not one bit!

You had manouvered out of the Library and had just made it to one of the hallways you had to take back to the Dungeon’s before Mattheo had caught up to you. He had called out your name but you had ignored him. Only when he grabbed your arm and stopped you in the hallway did you finally acknowledge your boyrfriend.

“Bloody Hell Y/N/N!” He said out of breath and annoyed. “What’s gotten into you!?”

You glared at the brunet before you, ripping your arm from his grasp. “You know damn well what’s gotten into me!” You said, spitting out the word’s he’d spoken.

Standing up straight, Mattheo’s dark brown eyes souly focused on you with a glare. He scoffed. “How about you tell me Love. After all, I did ask you first”.

Surprise flashed on your face briefly at how Mattheo was talking to you, but just as quick it was gone and replaced with your glare once more. If that was how he wanted to be, you weren’t going to back down.

“I was studying with Pansy before Jordan and the other Slytherin’s joined us, if you must know” you replied turning and started to head for the Slytherin common room. Mattheo hot on your heels, only getting more furious.

“Sure, studying” he spat. You shot him a sharp look. “From what I saw you were flirting and not studying”.

“Ha!” You said stopping suddenly and looking Mattheo in the eyes. “We were studying, nothing else. You’re just jealouse! Always thinking every male I interact with is flirting with me, or interested in me!” You poked him in the chest before taking off down the hallway again.

Mattheo laughed dryly continuing to follow you. “Oh come on Y/N/N! Don’t be so coy. You know those guys flirt with you, that they look at you with lust”.

You laughed heading down the stairs to the dungeons. “Please, I think you’ve got it wrong” you replied shaking your head. “You’re describing yourself and all the girls that fall at your feet!”

He grabbed your arm when you both made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Now, now Love. This is about you, not me!”

“Oh yes, sorry” you said rolling your eyes. “It’s always me in the wrong, never you, right?”

Mattheo’s grip tightened, making you wince a little. But he didn’t care. “I don’t like anyone coming near, speaking to or taking whats mine” Mattheo said dangerously low as his face came close to yours.

You wanted to cower, you wanted to beg for forgiveness. But this was it, you’d had enough. You looked him dead in the eye, not backing down like he wanted you too. It was a dangerous game to play. But what did you have to loose? Him? Yes. But if you give in to him, you’d loose respect for yourself.

“Let me go” you said calmly, eyes never wavering from his.

Mattheo didn’t do as you asked. He kept a firm hold on your arm. “No”.

With a small growl you used your free arm, pushing Mattheo back with your hand until he released you. “What is your problem!?” You questioned in a raised voice. “I am with you, Mattheo. It is always you! But you seem to think I would jump to another guy without so much as a second thought. Which I would never do! I love you for crying out loud!”

Mattheo winced at your words. He knew what you said was true, but a voice in the back of his mind told him it was a lie. Why wouldn’t you want someone else? Someone better then him? Someone who would sweep you off your feet?

Without thinking Mattheo opened his mouth and said wahtever came out first. “Oh please. Any guy gives you attention and you’d run off with them. After all I showed the slightest interest and you became a puppy that would follow me everywhere”.

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was an untrue exaduration. But it just kept coming. The word vomit, his insecurities, rising and possibly ruining everything. You. You looked shocked, hurt. All colour draining from your face at what he was saying.

“Y/N, you would let any guy have you if it meant not being alone”. That was the final nail.

Mattheo knew that you’d lost your parents early on. And didn’t have anyone close in your life. Those that cared for you did no such thing. They put up with you because it was expected of them, not because they wanted too. So those that you were friend’s with were your family. You did seek out approval from people. But with Mattheo it was different. He had seeked you out. He had instigated everything. He was the one to ask you out. He was the one who put the label on your relationship. Yet he had the hide to say you were the needy one!

All emotion left your face. But your eyes turned icy as they looked to the male before you. You stepped back from Mattheo, who’s mind was trying to work out how to take the foot from his mouth. You took a deep breath, and then other. Finally you straightened your posture, holding your head high.

“I’m glad I now know what you really think” you said eerly calm. “Fine then. Noted. How about I show you how wrong you are Mattheo”.

“What? W-what do you mean?” He sputtered.

“It’s done, we’re done” you replied turning from the male before you. You had taken a few steps before stopping, not looking back at him. “I-I wish I hadn’t met you…”.

Mattheo had barely heard your words before you left him, standing there alone in the cold dungeons. His blood ran cold from the argument, and end of your relationship. How stupid he had been to let his mouth get away with itself, and his damn brain for not filtering anything.

Alone. Mattheo was now alone. He was the one who had needed you. He was the one who needed your validation. He needed your love and affection. And in true Riddle fashion, ran you away. His chest ached. His stomach was in knots. His eyes burned, but he couldn’t let the tears out. Not here out in the open. Willing his body to move, Mattheo managed to get back to his dorm room. Briefly he saw you as he passed the Syltherin common room. Still you looked shut off and cold. But he pushed on to his room and his bed. Mattheo drew the curtains to his bed, welcoming the darkness. The same that was housed in himself. For anyone to hurt the light in their life deserved the darkness.

A/N: if anyone else has any submissions, feel free to put them in my ask box 😊

[bitchimasnake-sss]

unwinding after a long day ft. luffy!

in which, after a long day, he comes right back to you <3

ft. luffy x fem!reader

set-up: its been a tiring day for him, good thing you're right here to offer your services (wink wink)

warnings: both sfw/nsfw headcanons for this dumbass; nsfw stuff includes penetration, cockwarming, raw!fucking (kids use protection pls 👍)

luffy:

sfw!!

- after a long, long day of eating, running around the deck with ussop, defeating like five sea kings, enduring 53628 kicks and punches from the crew (how is this man a captain is beyond me sometimes), luffy is bound to be tired - you're laying on your bed post-dinner, absent-mindedly chipping away the nail polish - you feel the mattress next to you dip lowly as he jumps next to you, face-first - "ynn-" he's whining, wrapping his hands around you and intertwining his legs between yours, "ynnnnnn" "hmm?" you hum, still busy picking apart the colour on your nails "i'm so, so soooo tired" a laugh escapes you, "really? is it due to all the running?" and now he's pouting, "are you saying it's my own fault?" - you peck his cheek, then flash him a grin, "how can i ever say that?" - most of the nights, you silence him by giving him a massage - you don't even think you're good at it but holy shit this boy is obsessed with getting a quick massage from you. - and this has led to quite the number of misunderstandings. "yn," he had asked you when the crew were eating dinner together, "can we do that thing at night? i really need it." "WHAT THE FUCK-" nami is punching luffy in his guts, his food is being thrown out of his mouth and onto zoro, "WE ARE EATING." - he meant massage. - you knew it, he knew it. the rest of the crew? they assumed you were fucking (they aren't wrong, per se. they just didn't want to believe that all the sounds of bed creaking wasn't from you both jumping around, rip them) - yeah ussop threw up and sanji fell to his knees and cried for like 57 mins because how did luffy manage to bag you??? - zoro hasn't spoken in two days from the shock of it (and the traumatic experience of having food spit on him) and nami has retired to her room for a whole business week, she is now only conversing by using chopper as her message carrier - chopper is confused (poor bby 😭😭, he assumed it was massage or something and he is the only one who's correct) - anyways, other than getting massages, sometimes he starts rambling on about something or the other till he falls asleep mid-conversation - rest assured because he will continue whenever he wakes up "where was i?" he's shaking you awake "luffy" you groan, "it's like two am, go to sleep" "oh right, so ussop told chopper than reindeers are called reigndeers because they used to be actual kings back in the ancient times and so rein means reign and not rain like most people as-" he falls asleep again mid conversation - tf are you supposed to do with this man?? - peak, sheer dumbassery even when he's tired

nsfw!!

- this man refuses to entertain one-sided favours - your soft hands were kneading away the tension on his biceps a few minutes ago, so obviously he should return the favour back by massaging your back - you refuse many times because as much as you love luffy, this man does not understand his own strength - so you have a very valid fear that he would break your spine as he gives you a massage - "this isn't fair, let me do it too ughh" "how about no" "okay then let me fuck you, you'd like that right?" - didn't even blink twice plz 😭😭 - this dude is dead serious. - he gotta make up to you for being such a sweetheart to him one way or the other - that explains how he was pulling your top off, sucking sweetly on your tits, fingers gently rubbing over your clothed pussy - that also explained how he pulled you onto his lap, slipping in his dick inside you, stretching you out with a loud moan "you always take it so well, don'tcha?" he grins at you, tipping your head upwards and kissing you - refuses to move tho. - basically baited you into cockwarming him - what a royal asshole. - "what is it?" he coos when he feels your walls clamp down on him, your fingers desperately toying with your clit to get some sort of relief "pl- pleasefuckme-" there's tears clinging onto your lashline, your lips are red from how long you've been biting and chewing on them "hm?" he grins at your state, "what was that you said?" "please-" your breath hitches as he thrusts into you suddenly "fuck you?" "go- god. fuck, yes" his thrusts are merciless, pounding into you at a speed that has your overstimulated cunt spasming in seconds - doesn't let you go till he feels like he's paid you back enough "that was fun" he nuzzles into your neck, breathing slowly "mhm" you feel yourself dozing off he lays you down before snuggling into you and falling asleep - will end up giving you a massage in the morning anyways - although he can be just a little bit of a dick sometimes, there's no one you would rather unwind with

bonus!!

- ussop (while crying) had to relocate from his cabin to sanji's because the walls are really not that thick and he was next door - "i can hear them-" ussop sniffled, standing at sanji's doorstep, "omg i can hear luffy-" "ussop, you have to learn to face the horrors of the world." sanji spoke firmly, although his expression betrayed the confidence in his voice - actually they both just cried and ate the secret stash of ice-cream sanji had saved up - you and luffy need to pay for their therapy now im afraid 😃

zoro's part <3 sanji's part <3

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xxiii

⟶ Chapter summary | He may not be the Prince Charming written in fairy tales, but in your eyes, he seems perfectly yours. Even with many secrets lying between you, a part of you insists to put faith in him, to trust him, even with your secrets. Besides, there is a good reason why fate answered your prayers by allowing you to meet him again, shouldn’t it? 

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy!AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 9,264 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include magic terms, classism, brief mention of slavery, black market, usage of drugs mentioned, hypnotism.  ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

chapter xxiii. serendipity-3

The sun has finally gone out. The bright sky is now painted in vibrant colours of blue, faded teal, and purple as dusk slowly melts into night. Up above, the stars are beginning to show their presence, looking like pixie dust spreading into the night. 

Once the pixies welcomed Yoongi into their circle, he was sat down by the curious pixies to endure the same questioning as you had. 

“Where did you come from?” 

“How did you cross the border?” 

“Is that a real sword? Is it heavy? Have you ever hurt anyone with it? Have you ever hurt yourself?�� 

“Your hair is so soft. What did you put in it?” 

You had to hold back a smile while he went through it, yet your own curiosity rose when Yoongi visibly tensed and surprised when he heard Illyn asking, “Did you also walk past the fairy portal in the woods?” 

It didn’t take long for the pixies to lose interest in Yoongi, however, as fireflies began to come out of their hiding once it grew dark and caught their attention. Seems like they have yet to run out of energy, even after playing the whole day and the entire afternoon, as they are now busy chasing the fireflies and slipping between the thickening white mist rising around the riverbank. The sound of their joyful giggles echoes through the evening as you join Yoongi on a stroll along the length of the river, spending the last hour that you have left before you have to run home. 

The thought of having to say goodbye when you barely have enough time to share with Yoongi saddens you. Yet you try to make the best of it. You don’t even resist when Yoongi insists on holding your hand when he helps you jump across a small puddle, and you say nothing when he still keeps your hand in his as you slowly make your way back towards the elven town. 

“It feels really peaceful here, doesn’t it?” you muse with a sigh as you look up beyond the canopy of leaves above your head, marvelling at the colours showing in the sky—colours you wouldn’t normally see back home—and the sparkle of stars now filling the sky.

Far ahead of you, just beyond the tree line, the elven town lights up. Golden lights emerge through the open windows, lanterns hanging from the houses and on the small roads illuminate the rest of the town, and each sparkle of light is reflected on the waterfall that gleams brighter in the night. 

“Aren’t you afraid of the dark?” Yoongi asks, almost teasingly, “There is barely any light here, under the trees, and starlight can’t really reach us once we get deeper into the woods.” 

You glance around, seeing the contrasting sight of the dark forest filled with nothing but unmoving shadows against the brightening town. Before, it would have been daunting for you to travel into these woods, when the only colours you’d see are the white mist crawling on the ground and the fog forming from your breath. But after the chilling darkness and the daunting sights you find during your previous trips, this kind of darkness doesn’t incite any uneasiness rushing through your skin. 

The cold breeze doesn’t make you shiver. The cricket sounds echoing from the riverbanks, the faint night birdsong, and the echoes of the giggling and humming sounds of the pixies only give you a sense of calmness. Yoongi’s gentle hold on your hand and his warm presence make you feel secure enough to stare into the darkness and walk through it. 

“No, I’m not afraid,” you simply answer him with a smile. “Compared to where I’ve been lately, this place feels more like heaven. And what should I worry about when I have you here with me?” 

Yoongi lowers his eyes as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Have you missed me while I was gone?”

“No. Not really,” the lie easily slips out of your lips, and the corners of his lips rise to a smile. 

A deep chuckle escapes him, causing your heartbeat to trip. Air slowly leaves your lungs as he gently opens his eyes, showing you the deep gaze which haunts your thoughts whether you are in slumber or when you are awake. “You look pretty even when you lie,” he whispers with a low voice. 

Turning away from him, you take a deep, long breath. You have no idea if the heat rising on your cheeks came from his words or the way he is looking at you. “You always speak as you please.” 

“Yet I’m not the one who is lying,” he replies, and you can almost hear his smile before your eyes find him again. “That’s me saying that I don’t believe you. Not for one second.” 

Your cheeks are flushed, his words become a spell that makes your heart race and your hope bloom like wildflowers. And then the feeling is made worse when you turn to face Yoongi, capturing the deep longing in his gaze which mirrors yours perfectly that your words begin to spill out. “And if I tell you that I missed you, what would you do?” 

His chest rises with a sharp breath. The intense look in his gaze makes it hard for you to breathe and you cannot understand why. “I will cherish it,” he says, his voice sounding firm and sure that you find no reason to be doubtful. “The thought of you thinking about me in my absence brings me joy like no other.”

Your throat feels dry. Your heart feels like it is about to jump out of your chest the first chance it gets.  

“Always so charming with your words.” 

A ghost of a smile appears on his face, and then it is gone. “Yet none of it is a lie.” 

“I believe you,” you whisper with a sigh, and you mean it. because you can see it—you can feel it—simply by looking into his eyes. For a moment, you find it hard to look away. You despise ever thinking about having to look at other things but his face, to even look away from his eyes that are sometimes more honest than his words. 

But then the sound of wild giggles seems to be coming closer, the fluttering movements of the pixies entering the trees break the spell forming between you, and Yoongi is the one to give in first with a smile.  

“Now, shall we enjoy the rest of the evening? Maybe see what they are up to now before I send you home?” 

Home.

The thought of having to walk away from this place, from him, is eating you from the inside. Yet you try to push it down, silently hoping—praying—that this wouldn’t be the last evening that you would be spending with him. 

“All right. Lead the way.” 

Yoongi is left astonished at what is happening at this moment. 

Right before his eyes, the pixies are dancing and singing together, giving the two of you a show in an opening they found in the middle of the forest. Here, the moonlight is shining brightly from above, as if creating a special stage for them to perform their little celebration. And you are standing right beside him, enjoying this view together with him, with your hand entwined with his and shoulder brushing against his as you gently sway to the song the pixies are singing. 

He secretly steals a glance at your face without you realising it. He wants to commit this moment to his memory; the look of awe on your face as you watch the pixies dancing before you; your eyes that are glowing with amusement and pure joy; the delicate way your fingers seem to sink into his palm, as if they belong there. 

For the first time after quite some time, Yoongi feels at ease. Perhaps being with you helps, feeling your presence nearby and the touch of your hand in his becoming his anchor. 

For the past week, he felt as if his life was going out of control. But with you, he feels like everything is slowly falling into place, and he simply wants to hold on to everything before it slips away from his hold. 

Smiling, Yoongi turns his attention back to the pixies. The song they are singing seems to rouse a peculiar sensation within him. It fills him with joy and—amusingly—raw pleasure that he had only ever felt from drinking the strongest ales created by the hands of the moon fairies of Emburn. 

He shouldn’t be surprised to feel this kind of sensation simply by listening to the pixies’ tune. He has learned quite a lot about pixies after his previous journeys and his various close encounters with beings of their kind. Many may not have known this, but their magic dust isn’t the only thing that is special about the pixies. The song they sing, the tune and the words they hum, are said to be magical, acting like a spell to incite various sensations within other beings—mostly humans, as they are the most vulnerable beings against magic. 

As he continues to watch their performance and feels as if he is no longer carrying unwanted weight on his shoulders, his troubles forgotten and feeling only hope blooming in his chest, Yoongi wonders if the song that they are singing is the kind of spell that only brings joy. The kind that often causes dream-like experiences for other beings like himself, and others like you. 

Needing this escape, Yoongi allows himself to relish this feeling for a moment longer, to enjoy this moment with you, before he begins worrying about other matters. 

One of which is trying to make things right with you, when his lack of presence as of late may have placed him a few steps behind from what he wanted to achieve by following you through the portals. All he wanted was to become closer, not to feel as if you were a world apart from him even when you are right beside him. 

He wanted to win your trust, and perhaps one day, he can win your heart. But how would he be able to do so if he kept missing from your life whenever you needed him? 

“Forgive me for not being able to join you during your previous trips. I had somewhere else to be, and not one of my excursions ever led me to your path.” Yoongi says as he walks beside you, continuing your stroll along the river once he can sense that your time here is slowly coming to an end. 

You and Yoongi have left the pixies behind you, still enjoying their time partying in the forest with more and more other pixies joining in to form a bigger circle. The last time Yoongi turned to glance over his shoulder, the pixies’ dancing had become so intense that he began seeing golden dust sparkling all around them, their rapid dancing and the spells they were singing brought together magic pixie dust to illuminate the forest around them. 

Those pixie dust have now scattered all over the gravelled pathway before him, as the wined pixie kept floating across to drop the magical dust to help light up the way, allowing the two of you to see clearly through the darkening woods. 

Muted golden glow from the magic dust spreads all around him, the lights reflecting perfectly on your face that Yoongi cannot look away. In his eyes, you look as if you are walking among the stars, up there in the night sky, and he is floating with you like a shadow, protecting you from the night. 

He has pictured this moment many times before, when he was walking down the royal garden or through the halls within the Imperial Palace, wishing that you were by his side. Wishing that he was spending time with you instead of with the bratty princess who was more than happy to play along with the Empress’ ploy in keeping him back home. Now that this is finally happening, it seems hard for his mind to accept that this is his reality and not just a figment of his imagination, his wishful thinking playing tricks on him to make him believe that this is real. 

“I—wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see you today, to be honest,” Yoongi painfully admits, while recalling how hard it was for him to escape from the palace today. 

It was his own fault for getting him in such a situation, after all. 

He shouldn’t have traded the dance that he wanted so badly to avoid with a promise. A promise that he regretted the moment he stepped into the royal garden, when he realised too late that he had made a deal with the wrong force. 

What Yoongi had imagined to be a swift affair, a simple afternoon tea to appease the royal brat of a princess where all he had to do was sit and act nice while she gushed and gossiped about life within the empire, had turned out to be everything that was not. 

The entire encounter had instead turned mostly peculiar. 

Princess Celestyna has always worn the facade of a coy and almost naive and child-like, just like any other sheltered and spoiled princess he has ever met. But this afternoon, as she sat at the table set up for their little ‘date’, the princess had shed her entire facade and worn a new persona. Her presence emitted arrogance and an eerie calmness that made him feel uneasy. He was just about to call everything off when the princess dropped a bomb on him.

“I know that this is the last place you would rather be, Your Highness,” she said to him between taking dainty sips of her tea, with a gaze that carried a peculiar look to which Yoongi felt cautious. But then his blood ran cold when she added, “Do you know the real reason why I followed my father to visit your empire and meet the Empress? You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The air is changing. You cannot tell me you have no idea what, or who is causing it.” 

Realisation dawned in Yoongi back then, just as everything that he noticed about the realm upon his return came back to him; the turbulence he felt welcoming him home in waves; the stillness in the air; and the imbalance of magic. 

Before Yoongi could process things further, or inquire the princess about the secrets that she seemed to be offering him, he felt the ripple of magic rising at the back of his mind. It was subtle enough so that he knew he would be the only one who could feel it, and he immediately knew that it was the moment you stepped into a portal. 

Yoongi was caught between staying, accepting the princess’s olive branch, and the fear of losing the chance to see you again, so for a moment, he nearly faltered. But his wish to see you again prevailed. He felt your presence calling for him, pulling at his soul, and it gave him the willpower to walk away and race through the portal to catch up with you.  

“You won’t be able to keep running, Your Highness,” the princess called out to him just as Yoongi began to walk away, “You can try to avoid me as much as you want to or deny what must happen for as long as you can, but you must know that you won’t be able to change anything.” 

Yoongi shakes his head, shaking away the memory of the unpleasant encounter from his mind. He hates that even now, when he is supposed to be enjoying his time with you, that second princess of the Kosha Empire still dares to invade his mind—just like how she has been trying to invade his entire life. 

“It wasn’t easy, and I debated if I should risk making this trip at the last minute, when I still had my duties ahead of me,” he says with a grim smile on his face as the memory of Princess Celestyna’s cunning smile comes and goes. “But in the end, I am glad that I chose to listen to my gut and risk everything for a chance to see you again.” 

The smile that you give him alleviates his guilt. Only slightly.

But it is still the same smile that he has been longing to see. So much so that he has been seeing it in his dreams that he suddenly feels the urge to pinch himself just to make sure that this isn’t another dream, taunting him with your presence only to take you away from him so soon. 

“And here you are, right when I was just wondering if I should walk away sooner than planned,” you respond to him, much to his relief. A part of him was expecting to see your growing distrust of him, and yet your words hold no adversity in them that it makes him feel almost undeserving of your kindness. 

“I am beginning to believe this matter of fate that you spoke of so often, seeing that you were able to find me despite how busy you’ve been.” A soft chuckle slips out of your lips. “I’m amazed that you managed to find me at all.” 

Pain pierces through him as he returns your smile. He feels bitter about the fact that he had been the one who spoke of fate intertwining your lives together and yet has become the one defying fate itself. He cannot stop feeling as if he has failed you, and he knows that this feeling will continue to haunt him each time he remembers the disappointed look in your eyes looking back at him. 

And he knows that he will disappoint you further by not being able to share his secrets, even if only to answer your curiosity. 

“Is it another mercenary work that’s been keeping you away?” you innocently question him, and Yoongi can only bite back his tongue. In a way, it wouldn’t be too off the mark, since he did use his mercenary work as an excuse to stay out of the imperial palace from time to time, or when he needed a break from the Empress’ plot of keeping him close to their royal guests. 

It was safer for him to use the mercenary army as an excuse rather than using the magic portals, with the chances of having the Empress planting an eye around him.

“Perhaps,” he sighs, “you can say that.” He hates not being able to tell you the truth, but he also has no way of confessing that his lack of presence in your expeditions has been caused by another. With a tight smile on his face, Yoongi turns to ask you, “Have you been travelling well lately?” 

For a moment, you look quite reluctant to answer. At first, Yoongi simply takes it as your hesitance about sharing the secrets behind the magic that you are using. But instead, you choose to share something completely unexpected. 

“Not that much, actually. I have been—unwell,” you slowly admit. “After the last time we met in Grimm, I was left bedridden for quite a while.” 

His brows rise. “How so?” he asks, feeling uneasy.

Pressing your lips together, you shrug at him. “It seems that I have been using up my mana due to my travelling.” 

“Do you mean to say that your means of travel has been draining your mana?” Yoongi asks. His surprise almost caused him to make a slip-up, to show you that he knows by which way you have been travelling to different places. 

Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice it as you continue walking. “It may seem so”—a touch of a smile flickers on your face—”although it is just a personal assumption that I made up, seeing that it happened after I came back from travelling.” You stop for a moment, thinking. “Actually, now that I think about it, this kind of exhaustion only happened when I went across to places within Far Far Away.” 

Yoongi falls silent as he ponders over this. He cannot figure out why the same magic that empowers him—and one that he has learned to understand and control since he was just a young boy—would be reacting differently towards you. While this explains the reason behind your recent absence, he cannot say that he takes any pleasure in knowing. 

Perhaps it would have been better to hear that you had encountered something else getting in the way of you using the portals. Anything else but having your well-being and your safety having been compromised to be the reason for it. 

“You never felt the same when you were travelling back to Smotia?” 

You consider it for a moment before shaking your head. “Hmmm, I don’t recall that I have. I always felt tired, but it wasn’t as bad as it has been lately.” You stop, furrowing your brows, before turning to him. “Do you think—” 

“What?” 

Gnawing your lips, you shake your head gently before sharing your thoughts. “It’s just something that I thought of,” you begin to say, still hesitant. “What if, the—magic that I’m using to travel is feeding off my mana?” You turn to him. “Can something like that happen?” 

“You mean, it’s using your mana like fuel?” Yoongi asks, raising his brows. 

You slowly nod. “Like what oil does to a lamp, or food to humans.” 

Humming to himself, Yoongi recalls everything that he has learned about the magic portals. To think of any possible side effects or the possibility of it not taking its powers from the moon—as expected of these types of portals—but from its user instead. Yet he comes up with nothing. Because nothing similar to this has ever happened. Not to him, and certainly not to the Emperor, who used to travel merely through the portals to deal with the empire’s business. 

But the truth is, he simply never heard of it. 

A random thought suddenly crosses Yoongi’s mind just then. 

“In theory, it can happen,” he cautiously says, just as he remembers something that he once learned about magic. 

Any form of magic requires a price. A sacrifice is needed to be made to pay for any magic that is pulled out of the realm, used and cast by whoever is summoning them. For the type of magic as strong as the fairy portals, a sacrifice must be made. The Ancient moon fairies, however, had found a way to resolve this. 

By borrowing power from the moon, the fairies obtaining the skill to create, open, and use the portals would no longer need to sacrifice a thing. Only to then repay all the powers lent to them by the moon by celebrating the rites during the Runea Luna Eve. This is how it’s been done for centuries, until Yoongi was given the keys to the magic portals. 

But could this really be the reason? 

Yoongi wonders as he looks at you. Since you are not a fairy such as himself, nor you were born with a fairy blood or a direct connection to the moon, using the magic which belonged to his kind may require you to pay for it with something else. Something valuable. 

Your mana. A piece of your heart. Your—lifespan. 

Yoongi fists his hands by his side. “Have you talked about this with anyone else?” 

“Well, yes.” The crease between your brows deepens, and then you mutter, “Okay, maybe not.” A beat of silence passes, before you correct yourself, “Not really.” 

Yoongi says nothing, only that he knows now that you have yet to share your secret with anyone else. No one knows about her using the portals, he muses, surprised with what he just learned. He shouldn’t feel relieved about it, since that only means that you have no one by your side to guide you through it. 

But if you still have nobody to talk to about this, if you are still keeping this a secret, then this means he can use this to strengthen the bond he has with you. To gain your trust that has become so fragile from his own doing. 

Cocking your head, you innocently ask him, “What are you thinking?” 

Yoongi grabs your hand instead of answering directly. He still has to work on finding out the truth about this side-effect before slowly revealing the truth about the portal—that he knows more about it than he is letting on, and that he and his family are the ones behind it. He needs to make sure that you trust him enough before he can. 

Because revealing the origin of the portal you are using might risk him losing your trust. It might risk him losing the only link he has to the Wicked King. 

“I’m just wondering,” he says, as he begins rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, drawing shivers through your skin, “you mentioned before that this is all new for you. That you are still getting used to your new life in Far Far Away.” 

He stops to wait until you respond with a nod before he continues, “Even without having to use magic, travelling within this realm itself can be draining, and you still can’t fully access your magic to begin with.” Looking down at the ground covered in pixie dust, Yoongi points at the glowing lights. “Take a look at how the scattered magic dust is covering the dark, hard ground beneath. Look at it as the realm we are standing in.” 

You turn to look at the sparkling magic dust and keep your eyes on it while Yoongi keeps speaking, “There are layers and layers of mana in this realm which—depending on which part of the land you are—may require different levels of mana within yourself to withstand it. For you to be able to ride the energy flow that is present all around you when you are stepping into a new territory.” 

Yoongi smiles as he senses you growing more at ease, and that you seem to understand what he is trying to say. “With your magic still restrained, you haven’t been able to put your raw mana to use. At the very least, not in its full potential.” 

Your gaze finds his after hearing this, which encourages Yoongi to continue, “So it’s quite possible that your body was weakened due to the insufficient amount of mana you had to boost the power of the magic. And it if had instead begun to feed on your life energy, that might explain why you experience fatigue and why it took longer for your mana to recover.” 

An understanding look fills your eyes. “That would make sense,” you mutter softly, and Yoongi can almost hear the wheels in your head turning. He can hear the questions that you have before you even think of voicing them out loud. He knows that—despite your lack of experience with magic—you are smart enough to understand things quickly.

Right when you are about to speak, to question him further—to force him to tell you everything about the portals—Yoongi cuts you off with his own question, “What about your latest trips? I thought you said you had been going back to back while I was away? How are you feeling now?” 

Finding out that you are experiencing some side effects from the portals made him feel wary, and it worries him more when he thinks about the constant waves of magic reaching out to him and he was never there. “You know, some people might think that it would be better to avoid anything that was harmful to them,” he tries to joke, “and yet you decided to jump right back into it again the moment you had the chance.” 

A grin lifts on the corner of your lips. “You got me,” you softly laugh. “I suppose my curiosity got the better of me. In a way, I wanted to test my theory, and—” You stop for a moment as you recall the past few days—the days that Yoongi would have loved to hear more about in detail—and then shrug a little. “You can say that the circumstances made it hard for me to avoid going on those trips.” 

Your gaze flicks back to him. “I might say that fate pointed out the way and I simply followed.” Yoongi returns your smile. “But things are different now.” 

“Different? In what way?” 

You make a humming sound as you answer, “I’ve been training. Someone—one of my guardians—offered to help me practice controlling my mana, even if I can’t really use it to expel magic.” Yoongi cannot help but smile as you share this. He loves seeing how proud you look, simply from thinking about what you have achieved on your own. The look of excitement for overcoming a challenge and getting yourself ready to try facing another. 

“Do you think your training has been helping you, seeing that you are doing quite alright now even after—how busy you’ve been?” 

“I’m not quite sure, really,” you admit with a nervous smile, “That’s also why I’ve been waiting to see you. What do you think? Do you reckon my progress may have anything to do with how I’m not sick right now?” 

Yoongi considers the option for a moment before nodding. “It might,” he cautiously says, “By having control of your mana, you might have been able to inadvertently prevent your mana from being drained completely while you had your expeditions.” 

This answer seems to please you. “Of course, I am not an expert in this type of magic,” he quickly says before you get your hopes up. And it is not a complete lie, as there are real experts back home at Emburn who study this old magic properly that would know better than he does now. And he quickly makes it his mission to find them once he returns. ”I can try and help you look for answers if that can help you.” 

Your smile widens. And he suddenly feels like his chest is too tight for his beating heart. “Would you do that for me?” you ask, to which he feels his knees weakening beneath him that he comes to a halt, bringing you close to him as he pulls you gently towards him. 

“Anything, little dove,” he murmurs as he gently leans closer. “Even if only to make up for my recent absence and the days that went on without us being able to enjoy our time like this.” 

Yoongi is so close. You are so close that he can breathe in the scent of your shampoo and the soft fragrance that you might have dropped onto the curves of your neckline this morning—something sweet and floral and maddeningly luscious—that his entire body grows warm. Before he can stop himself, his hand rises, fingers gently sweeping back some stray strands of hair that keep escaping to your cheek, and your face flushes. 

Clearing your throat, you lower your gaze with a bashful smile. “Speaking of places with mana,” you softly speak, a hint of shyness flutters in your voice which pleases him dearly when you ask, “Have you been to a place called Aeris?” 

Swallowing hard, Yoongi tries to calm his expression when he answers. “I’ve been there many times. Some of the merchants and barons that have hired me are those who deal with businesses in both realms, that’s why I frequently go to marketplaces like Narlès and Aeris.” He inclines his head. “Why do you ask?”  

“Have you been there recently?” you question him, gnawing your lips as if you aren’t sure to ask. 

“Not that I recall, no. I’ve been going to places where people were dealing with various crisis, and I have yet to visit any marketplaces lately.” 

You try to hide it, but Yoongi can see a hint of disappointment in your eyes. “I see.” 

Yoongi falls silent instead of questioning further. Because he knows why you would ask him about Aeris. 

He was unable to leave the Imperial Palace when he felt you visiting the Mage City, so he had to send out the only one he trusted to go in his place and watch over you, making sure that you were safe. Yet it seems that Yijeong has failed to report back to him to let him know that you had caught him, or perhaps felt his presence while shadowing you through the city.  

That fool. 

Swallowing a frustrated groan, Yoongi reminds himself to be grateful. Despite his recklessness and his lack of trust in you, Yijeong has been there when Yoongi couldn’t. His loyal friend has continued volunteering to take his place, jumping into the magic portal whenever the ripples came calling for Yoongi to follow, all to be able to watch over you and keep you safe while Yoongi was stuck in the Empress’ little ploy. 

From the mage city of Aeris to the legendary E’l Alora, the ancient place that is no longer shown on any kind of map, and then to the fallen city of Arselon, where mortals are no longer welcomed after they became casualties of war. 

Yoongi cannot imagine what kind of adventures you have been to. Not even Yijeong’s reports were adequate in letting him know what you’ve learned from these expeditions of yours. How much he wishes to be there to witness it. And how inadequate it makes him feel to realise how much he has missed. 

“The next time we meet again,” Yoongi gently says, “Tell me everything about your latest journey.” 

The smile you give him holds hope and promise. “As long as you share me yours.” 

As soon as you’ve made it across the bridge with Yoongi, you come to a halt, hesitant to continue.

You can feel it from a distance; the ripples of magic coming out of the portal, waiting for your return, hidden deep between the trees.

Silently, you wonder if Yoongi can feel it too. For some reason, you know that he can feel it, but he chooses not to show it. Not to say anything. Respecting your need to hold your secret just a bit longer until you can trust him completely with it. 

Judging from the way he isn’t making any move to continue, he is respecting your choice by not following you through the woods unless you allow him to. 

But keeping your secret and preventing him from following you to find the opened portal is the least of your concerns at this moment. You hate having to say goodbye so soon when you just met him again. Your time together has been too short, you feel like it wasn’t enough. 

Yoongi tilts his head, noticing your silence. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, as if he can sense you having an inner battle in your silence. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye so soon,” you admit with a quiet whisper. 

“Then don’t,” Yoongi says, smiling. “Don’t say goodbye. Not when we’re going to see each other again.” 

“Is that true? Will we be able to see each other again?” You cannot help but ask, “I’ve believed that we would, but—” 

Taking your hand in his, Yoongi gives it a gentle squeeze. “I promise, whenever you make the jump to travel somewhere, to a new place across the realm or even towards the next realm, I’ll come running to you,” he says with a firm voice, only that you are too afraid to believe him, to hope, after being disappointed the last few times you went and never found yourself crossing paths with him. 

“Don’t say such promises as if it is something that you are capable of doing,” you whisper bitterly, looking away. 

Still keeping a gentle hold of your hand, Yoongi tilts your chin up with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to him. “As I’ve told you many times before, little dove. I wouldn’t dare make a promise that I’m not sure I can keep,” he whispers as he plays with a few stray strands of your hair before tucking them behind your ear. Just like before, when he did the same and the tips of his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, your body shudders. Your skin grows hot, and you sway on your feet, your body leaning towards him to feel more. 

Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this feeling, yet you quickly open them again, resisting, only so you can look at him longer. But then his face comes closer, almost as if he is leaning for a kiss. “Can you keep that promise?” you force yourself to ask, even when your voice comes out small, almost breathless. “Can you really find a way to know where I am the next time I walk across the realm and be there when I make the jump?”

Yoongi says nothing at first. But the intense way he is looking at you, with no words, only with a gaze that seems tortured, as if he is pained for not being able to say much seems to speak louder than his words would. 

“How? How would you be able to do such a thing?” 

Instead of answering you, Yoongi only smiles. “Why don’t we make a little deal, you and me?” Yoongi offers instead, “I will tell you the next time we see each other again. Better yet, each time we meet again, I will share with you one secret of mine for you to keep. Something more about myself.” 

Sucking a deep breath, you try to calm the flutter building in your chest. And fail. “Promise?” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “And I—” You continue, feeling your throat tightening when you think about all the things you can offer to make this fair. You want to give something back. A piece of you to every piece of himself that he is willing to give you. 

Bringing your hand up, you offer him your pinky finger. “Then I’ll share something about myself too when we see each other again.” 

Looking up close, Yoongi’s eyes seem to sparkle. Intrigued and pleased, Yoongi’s smile deepens as he entwines his pinky finger around yours and murmurs, “It’s a promise.” 

Neither of you makes a move to separate, remaining in this position just a bit longer, staying close with his eyes staring deeply into yours. For a moment, you wonder if he is going to kiss you, as he slowly bends down, his face growing closer, until he suddenly stops with a hesitant smile. “Until we meet again,” he says instead, kissing the back of your hand. 

You are filled with a mix of emotions, yet the touch of his lips on your skin makes your heart flutter, soaring with hope. 

“Remember,” he whispers, “All you need to do is jump, and I’ll come running to you.” 

Despite everything, you know deep down that you can hold onto this promise. You want to believe him, and that is exactly what you say to him in the end before you finally decide to part ways just beyond the last line of trees. 

“Will you be okay crossing the woods on your own?” Yoongi asks, still reluctant to let you go into the woods. 

“I have my dagger with me, and I know how to defend myself,” you reassure him, and his gaze flickers with knowing, believing that you are telling him the truth. “If all fails, I’ll scream for help.” 

Yoongi softly laughs. “I’ll be here,” he says, as he slides his hands into his pockets, as if he is doing so to hold back from reaching out to you. “At least until you make it across.” 

You leave him standing by the bridge as you trudge into the thickets, his warm smile becomes the last thing you see when you look over your shoulder one last time, before slipping deeper into the woods and entering the magic portal waiting to take you home. You close your eyes for a brief moment when the magic engulfs you, pulling you through the space in between before you arrive back home. The force of the magic is so strong, that you barely feel it when another ripple of magic follows your departure, coming from somewhere nearby, right before the magic door closes behind you. 

The moment you open your eyes again, you are standing in the middle of the quiet corridor back in Stargrave. There is an emptiness in your chest as you walk further away from the ghostly feeling of the magic portal slowly waning behind you as you slowly make your way back to your bedchamber, yet you find no reason to feel any sorrow as you stroll down the empty hallways and into your silent quarter. 

Because you've arrived back home not all empty-handed. Not when you have the warmth of a promise filling your heart, the ghost of Yoongi’s touch lingering in your palm, and five pouches of pixie dust in the pocket of your dress. 

The day after your last trip, where you got to visit the home of elves and pixies, you remain in the castle instead of allowing your curiosity to take you away once again. 

Your father’s keys are secured safely in one of the drawers inside your bedchamber. Out of sight, though not entirely out of mind. 

“Take a day off from travelling, especially since you’ve been travelling more frequently as of late,” Yoongi had suggested yesterday, right before you parted ways, right after you made him so obviously worry about your well-being after you shared your recent predicament. 

And you have chosen to follow his advice. To preserve your energy and mana until the next time you will be needing it again. Until the next time you see him again. 

“And where will you be while I’m gone? Back to your mercenary business?” 

Yoongi had given you a tight smile when you asked. Yet his eyes were filled with resolve when he answered, “Perhaps I shall handle my business to make sure they will no longer be in the way of me catching up to you.” 

With no plans on escaping the confines of the castle, you spend your afternoon at the terrace on Nanny Abigail’s quarter for some afternoon tea with your governess. It has been a while since you spent some time with her without any agenda hidden under your sleeves—or hers. 

Being here also means keeping you away from any possibility of you straying down vacant hallways in the castle and finding cryptic doors with humming spells enchanting you to open.  

“It’s quite remarkable to think that on the same day you spent the hour of your dancing lesson stubbing your toes one too many times, you spent the rest of the afternoon sparring with the knights,” Nanny Abigail lifts her eyes from her tea and runs her gaze on your body, perusing briefly before commenting, “and without any injuries on your skin.” 

You look up, forcing a smile as you resist the urge to admit that you did gain some injuries. But you choose not to say anything, lest you are to be forced to explain everything. Or worse, to risk causing an innocent royal knight to take the blame. 

“How did you find out?” You ask her instead while keeping your voice calm. 

Nanny Abigail presses her lips together. A look of displeasure is written all over her face. “Words travel fast in this place. The maids here keep curious eyes on the Princess who had been kept away from the only home she ever knew and is struggling to adjust in this new place,” she says with a wistful tone of voice, as if she has grown tired of the gossips, until she adds, “And those words always come back to me.”  

“No wonder I felt like I was constantly being watched.” With an exaggerated sigh, you shake your head and mutter, “And here I thought it was all you.” 

Eyebrows raised, Nanny Abigail looks at you with an unamused look on her face. “You think I planted a spy on you?” 

You give her a sly grin as you shrug. “Wouldn’t be too surprised if you had. You’ve always seemed to have many eyes looking at me even when you are not around.” 

Your governess narrows her eyes at you as she murmurs almost to herself, “Perhaps it’s time I should put a spy on you to make sure you behave like a princess for once.” 

The bitter way she says it only makes you laugh, which draws a smile to her face. A fleeting sight to see, that you almost believe you are imagining things, until you hear the sound of her soft chuckle, laughing at her own joke. She expertly hides it behind her cup of tea, keeping her poise as always. 

“May I ask you something?” you carefully ask her when a thought comes through your mind. Something has been weighing in your mind lately, and seeing that your governess seems to be in a light mood—enough for her to joke around with you—you figure this might as well be the right time to bring this up.  

Nanny Abigail lifts her eyebrows and hums. “I don’t suppose it will stop you from trying if I refuse.” 

You roll your eyes. “Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you tease, once again drawing a small smile from her. You take a deep breath before asking, “How well did you know my mother?” 

At the mention of your mother, Nanny Abigail’s shoulders grow stiff. She quickly recovers and straightens up as she slowly lowers her cup. She clears her throat before answering, “Well enough to see parts of her in you each time I’m looking at you. It’s like seeing a reflection of her when I look at your face, or listen to you speak.” 

Her gaze finds you. The joy in her eyes dims and softens when a smile comes to her face. A smile that is filled with melancholy and a familiar sense of longing. “Might be why it doesn’t surprise me when you are always up to something whenever no one is looking.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Nanny Abigail sighs. “The Queen, your mother, has always been just as mischievous as you are. She has always been like that since she was a child. Always so curious, always questioning and looking for answers, even if it’s the most impossible ones to find.”

You cannot help but smile as you hear this. “How did that go with my father?” 

“His Majesty was always worried about her, but what can he do?” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Not even the most strict rules can stop her from going out to see the world.” 

Your back straightens. You have learned from Lord Gordan that you may have some similarities with your mother. You never expected to even share this with her. “She was a traveller.” 

Nanny Abigail looks at you, smiling. “And a scholar,” she adds. “That was her true power.” She briefly halts, thinking, before adding, “Well, one of them. Her curiosity is one, and her knowledge is the other. But the most important one that she obtained over the years would be her courage. The one thing that kept pushing her to find more and more knowledge, no matter where and how.”

“This castle is full of books,” you muse, recalling how much the royal library had amazed you the first time you entered it. And it seems that you keep finding more and more books—all the rare ones that have often helped answer your questions—the more you explore deeper. “Was it because my mother loved to learn?” 

“Yes, it was. Your mother’s always so fond of books,” Nanny Abigail says with a fond look in her eyes. “I believe she also kept a journal with her. A small notebook where she would keep the things she found and learned through her journeys.” 

The conversation halts for a moment as Nanny Abigail pours some more tea into the cups, while your mind wanders. “How did she travel?” you find yourself asking, wondering, to which Nanny Abigail merely scoffs. 

“Heavens know. She always had her secrets,” she answers with a soft chuckle. “Mostly, she would disappear hours into the day and come back once evening comes. Sometimes later, looking weary and excited at the same time from whatever adventure she got herself on.” 

Furrowing your brows, you think about what she mentioned earlier. “The journal. Have you ever seen it? Have you ever read what she wrote in it?” 

Nanny Abigail presses her lips and shakes her head. “No, she used to keep it to herself. Kept it hidden in her bedchamber.” Her gaze seems far away when she continues, “But she would talk about her day as she was writing about it. Sometimes she would do sketches. She would draw the places, the people she met, and the things she saw into these rough sketches for her to keep in her memory, but never once had she ever shown me anything she put down in that journal.” 

Talking about your mother and the things they used to do back then brings another smile to her face. And she talks as if the memory is still fresh, that everything is happening in the present instead of the past, that you can almost see it through her eyes, to feel your mother’s presence the way Nanny Abigail is feeling it now. “Besides, even if I ever got a peek at her writing, I wouldn’t have understood it,” she adds. 

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

“Your mother’s quite adept with languages. She grew up speaking the language of the elves, and she was learning the native language of the moon fairies when she first began writing in that journal.” Her sigh is filled with longing when she continues, “She left a page on her desk once, something that looked like a letter that fell from the journal. She was quick to hide it, but I remember not recognising the language or the letters that she used. I couldn’t even read her scribbles, since she wrote them so quickly. Perhaps she had done it while on the road.” 

She laughs. “I think it’s her way of keeping all the information she wrote a secret, only for certain people to be able to read them.” 

You lean forward, getting more and more curious about this journal that your mother had allegedly carried with her. “Do you know where it is now?” you try to ask. “Or is it—is it lost with most of her belongings?” 

Nanny Abigail only answers with a resigned sigh. “No one knows. The Queen holds her secrets deeply, even in her absence.” Her gaze finds yours as she raises her cup of tea to her lips. “Just like you do.” 

A beat of silence falls. The wheels in your head are turning wildly as you try to connect all the dots. The places you’ve been. The words that were given to you by the people you met. 

But then all the puzzling clues you have gathered in your memory scatter when Nanny Abigail suddenly chastises you, “Of all the things you could have been doing in your free time, why did it have to be a sword fight?” 

Scoffing, you raise your brows at her. “Are you wishing that I’d be doing embroideries instead?” 

“Well, you could need some more work on that, for sure,” she teases, making you laugh.

“Hah! Very funny,” you respond with a chuckle. “But really, I was—” Sighing, you decide to share some truth about what has been troubling you. “I was bored, and I was getting too soft.” 

Nanny Abigail gives you an incredulous look. “From dancing?” 

“From the lack of physical training,” you bitterly admit, “I don’t think Lord Gordan is brazen enough to defy my father in terms of giving me lessons in fighting.” 

You hear Nanny Abigail sighing as she mutters, “As if you still need one.” 

“You are good at dancing and yet you still practice when you have the chance.” 

Your governess looks at you, saying nothing, but you can tell that she is silently agreeing with you. But the world will end if she ever admits it to your face. “So,” she says after sipping her tea. “Did you win?” 

Your lips twist to a sly grin. “What do you think?” 

One hour later, you find yourself returning to your quarters after a lazy afternoon. Your bedchamber is quiet, yet your mind is almost as lively as the rapid sound of your heartbeat as you reach for your dresser. Opening the top drawer, you find the set of keys gifted by your father. The magic keys cast silver and golden glow across the drawers and onto your face, the spell hums through the quiet space around you, as if asking why you haven’t reached for them today. 

Yet your gaze moves past them, landing on the small bundle that you had carried home with you from the fallen city of Arselon. 

You slowly reach for it, lifting the bundle in your hand with precise care—as if the thing will crumble into dust under your fingers. The bundle felt small when Gaia first handed it to you, enough for you to slip it under your cloak when you took it home. With gentle fingers, you pry open the velvet fabric covering it, revealing three small items bound together by a thick, white thread. 

The first item is a key; made of steel and mostly covered in rust, reminding you of the iron gate leading towards the forbidden part of the royal garden that you have yet to travel into. 

The second is an old folded map; with an inscription on the front cover written in one of the native languages you have been learning from Lady Laurel. Elven tongue. 

But what intrigues you the most is the third item. Weighing down on your palm is a small notebook. Small enough to fit in the small sling bag that you often carry with you when you are travelling or into the side pocket of your coat. The leather cover is tainted with ink stains and appears to be slightly worn out by age. The papers seem old and worn, with yellowing edges and some growing crisp and falling apart. Deep down, you have a feeling that you already know what this item is even without having to open it.

“I believe she also kept a journal with her…”

Nanny Abigail’s voice echoes through your head as you gently run the tips of your fingers over the leather covering, finding the small initial embossed into the leather, right at the bottom corner of the front cover. 

The inscription is made in a cursive letter, looking almost like a signed autograph marked into the leather coverings so it wouldn’t wear away by the passing of time, and the inscription reads the letter ‘M’. 

— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[viperrot]

I also have a small request if possible. I'm thinking of something with old Leon x single mother reader. Leon is moving to a new neighborhood for a while and his neighbor is reader. I was thinking that the reader's daughter (possibly 2-3 years old) would see him once and be crazy about him, screaming all day that she wants to touch his hair 🤭🤭. And Leon being... well, Leon doesn't know how to react, but he starts to like the little one and little by little falls in love with the reader. I was thinking damnation Leon (he deserves so much love ugh😔🤭). Further, I'll leave it up to you to develop the story as you want. Kissss 😘😘😘😘

P.S. I love your stories❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

⇁apple pie | leon kennedy

Post RE4 leon s. kennedy x single-mother!reader

there's a new person living in the house next door, and your daughter is incredibly excited to make a new friend. so, what better way to welcome him than with a pie?

content includes: strangers to friends (to lovers)?, leon trying to be normal and failing, who let this guy talk to women?, reader checks out leon oops!, reader is described as feminine-dressed, reader is called momma, reader and baby is implied to be of asian background oops sorry i am asian so this just happened very naturally and i am a slave to my brain + too lazy to change it

not proofread i am sleepy

2497 words

song rec: "love me" by elvis presley

this is written with Vendetta, Damnation, and ID! leon in mind. i recently hung out with my little niece, who is named mei, so i just decided to name the little one mei as well! hope you enjoy, anon ^w^

"Momma, momma!" you hear your little one yelp from the front yard. You look up from your dishes, confused and fearful that your precious daughter had injured herself. Peeping out the window right above your sink, you immediately spot your tiny child pointing to her right with a sparkling eyes, her chubby little fingers extending as far as they could. You cock your head questioningly as you walk towards the wide-open front door to check what she was trying to show you, your hands patting against the fabric of your dress as you stepped out onto your wrap-around porch.

Hiding behind the vines of your overhead plants, you squint between the leaves to try and get a look of what your daughter, Mei, was trying to show you. Slowly, you make out what seems to be a man fumbling with his keys. His cocoa coloured hair swayed as his clumsily handled his keys in front of his door, his jaw tightening as he grew increasingly frustrated with himself. You watch him curiously, unknowing of your little one stumbling across the yard and onto the porch the stranger stood at.

"W-what the-" you hear the man stutter, dropping his keys as he frantically looks down at his feet. You can feel the corners of your eyes crinkle as you try to get a better look from the vines of your precious plants, and you realize that Mei had found herself tugging at the man's pants. You gasp and trip your way over to the front of his house, shoeless with your apron practically falling off.

"Mei-Mei, you can't just run after strangers!" You grow embarrassed the closer you get to them. You stood just in front of the porch when you finally get a good look of the man.

Your cherub of a daughter is basically climbing the poor man at this point, jumping up and down at his feet as she bumbles out her baby-gibberish—things like "Hair! Hair!" and "Do you like pie? Hey, mister! Pie?" coming out in one long string of rambling. Quickly, you go up the small set of steps and pick up Mei by the waist, tucking her into yourself as you sheepishly apologize to the stranger.

"I-I am so so so so sorry, sir, I didn't realize she was so excited to see you," you stammer out, trying to contain the little babe that was trying to climb out of your arms.

The man in front of you is gorgeous, standing at six-feet-two with those heavy boots of his. His dark brown hair framed his face to accentuate the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the deep blue of eyes piercing through your body as if you were simply a window. He stood tall and stiff, chest slightly puffed out in his black leather jacket and white t-shirt combo. The denim jeans he wore did nothing to hide his legs, the bulge of his thighs almost giving you whiplash. His eyes lock onto yours, his plump lips slightly parted.

“It’s alright,” he grunts. “She’s just a kid,” the man nods at the cooing cherub in your arms, who was craning her body backwards with her arms stretched out in attempt to touch his hair.

“S-still, I should have been watching her. Sh-she isn’t normally so… uh…”

“Excited? It’s alright, ma’am,” he lets out a soft chuckle, his head shaking side-to-side. You feel a blush begin to dust over your cheeks, and begin to to step backward.

“Y-yeah, excited. Anyways,” you clear your throat. “I’m still sorry. I-if you need anything, I’m right next door!” You bow slightly before booking it back to your home, bare feet treading against the lawn connecting the houses together. You feel a bit guilty for not introducing yourself to him, but you were so embarrassed by Mei, you couldn’t help but run away.

“Momma, go back! Back!” Mei began to cry, her lip quivering as she looked over your shoulder. Her little arms reached for the stranger, who was watching from his porch.

The door shut behind you, and your daughter let the tears flow. Distraught, you set your little one down on the couch just a few steps away from the door and dragged your thumbs across the apples of her cheeks, asking her softly about what was wrong. Mei hiccuped and sniffled, snot smearing across her tiny lips as she cried.

“What’s wrong, Mei-Mei?” You frown, bringing your apron up to her flat little nose to wipe away the boogers. She trembles as you comfort her.

“I-I wanna touch his hair,” she sniffles, her tiny palms rubbing against her cheeks to wipe the tears. “Can we p-please see him again, Momma,” Mei’s frown deepens, and you feel your heart break at the sight.

“Mei-Mei, he’s a stranger. We can’t talk to strangers—especially not ones who don’t seem to want to talk to us,” you explain to the child. Tears continue to fall.

“B-but, Momma-“

“Mei-Mei,” you sigh tiredly, unable to resist your sweet daughter. “How about this—if you help me make it, we can bake a pie for the mister tomorrow and maybe we can see him again, okay?” Your daughter visibly perks up at this, the waterworks ceasing as she looks up at you with her sparkling eyes.

“Really!? Do you promise, Momma!?” She gasps, her chubby hands squeezing her cheeks with excitement. You nod at her with a gentle smile, and she jumps out of her spot on the couch, flailing around the living room like a wound-up puppy.

Mei wouldn’t stop talking about the man for the rest of the night.

"This one! Oh, oh, no, I meant... this one!"

"Sweetheart, these are too red. We need green ones."

"But... these are green, Momma?"

"Oh dear..." you sigh heavily, taking the Fuji apple out of Mei's hands and setting it in your cart. "Stay close to me okay, Mei-Mei?" You tug at the little cowlick on top of her head softly, making sure she understood to not run off. She let's out a little noise of understanding and keeps a tight fist on the end of your dress, trailing behind you as you searched for the greenest apples you could find.

The drive home from the grocery store was filled with questions you didn't know how to answer. Things like...

"Do you think the mister likes My Little Pony?"

"I wonder if mister has any pets. He looks like he has a chihuahua!"

"If mister had a cutie mark, what do you think it'd be, Momma?"

And other weird things a child would ask. You tried your best to answer each question, but everything just leaded to another awfully confusing query. As you pulled the car into the driveway, you notice the sexy motorbike in the new neighbour's own, the black finish shining beneath the morning sun. You get out of the car, helping Mei right after before grabbing the groceries from the trunk of your two-thousand-five Honda Accord.

You unlock the door of your sweet little home, pushing it wide open with a bump of your hip. Mei skips inside, a small toy of Fluttershy in her hand and a plastic bag containing her "element of harmony" (a single red delicious apple, which is apparently the "honesty" element, or something along that line) in the other. The door clicks shut behind you two, and you trip into the kitchen after you kick off your shoes. Setting the bags down on the counter, you sort out the groceries before calling for your little one.

"Mei-Mei! It's time to start baking, sweetie," you hear her clumsy feet tip-tap against the hardwood and smile brightly when her head peeps into the kitchen. Her honesty apple was clutched tight in her hands as she walked up to you giddily, excited to get to work. You pick her up and set her on top of the clear section of the counter.

You trust Mei with measuring the dry ingredients, with some supervision of course. Together, you make the pie crust and allow it to chill in the fridge as you make the filling. Mei is in the living room at this point, eyes glued to the television as she embarks on a friendship adventure with her pony friends.

Silently humming a nameless tune to yourself, you peel and core the small Granny Smith apples, dicing them into little cubes before setting them in a brown-sugar mixture. By noon, you had shaped the pies into the shape everyone knows them to be—apple shaped apple pies!

The delicate little balls were placed on the baking tray carefully, not wanting to ruin the perfect shape. You brushed the tops with an egg-yolk-and-water mixture before putting the cute pies into the oven, setting a timer for 15 minutes. Proud of yourself for cleaning up the generous mess in your beloved kitchen, you open up the window above the sink to let the air in.

While you lounged on the couch with your beloved little dumpling, you're unknowing to the man next door, tinkering away beneath his ebony Dodge Coronet 440. The scent of the sweet apple pie wafted to his nose, making him stop his repairs on his old model. Shaking his head, he tries to ignore the temptation to knock on his pretty neighbour's front door and ask for a slice.

The heat from the oven tickled your face as you carefully pulled the baking sheet out of the contraption, setting it down on the kitchen counter that was covered with a washcloth to avoid damaging the countertop. Mei watched you with a square-shaped tupperware in her chubby hands, eager to get the pie to the stranger next door.

You slide the oven-mittens off your hands and proudly look at your apple-apple-pies. Turning your attention to Mei, you pick her up so she can look too.

"Aren't they pretty, puddin'?" You coo. "You made these!" Mei claps her hands together happily, tupperware long forgotten with stars in her eyes as she beams at the sight of the apple-apple-pies.

"Can we take it to mister now?" the babe pratically vibrates in your grip with excitement. You nod at her and set her down on the floor, deciding to fish out a new tupperware box from one of your cabinets. When you find one of the proper size, you pack up one of the pies before you usher Mei out of the door after putting on your shoes, handing the container to her to carry.

Walking across the lawn, Mei immediately notices the open garage and makes a beeline towards the mass of legs beneath a black vintage car.

"Mister!! Mister!!!!" she practically yells, stomping over to the man beneath the car.

You can't help but admire the sight of the stranger. His thighs were practically ripping the denim of his jeans how tight they were on him, his white tank-top creeping up his stomach to reveal a small patch of hair just below his belly-button. With a grunt, he slides out from beneath the Dodge model, grease staining his entire upper body.

"Hey...?" He looks up at his from his spot on the ground, rubbing the stubble on his chin confused as he sits straight on the concrete.

"H-hi," you wave awkwardly, standing a safe distance away from him with Mei. You crouch down to your daughters level. "My daughter helped me make a pie for you as a little welcome gift. Go on, sweetheart," you pat her back softly, urging her to walk up to the newcomer. Like an excited puppy, Mei marches over to the handsome man, presenting the tupperware to him like a trophy.

"My momma put lotsa love into this, so you better like it, mister!" she demands, and the man chuckles softly at the order.

"I definitely will, kiddo. Apple pie's my favourite," he smiles gently before setting his sights on you. His blue eyes were illuminated perfectly by the sun as he looked over to you. "Thank you. My name's Leon, by the way. Uh, Leon Kennedy," he nods over at you as he takes the container from Mei's hands.

"O-oh, right! We didn't really introduce ourselves yesterday," you blush, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. You quickly introduce yourself and your daughter, stuttering all the while. It had been quite a long time since you had spoken to a man.

"Nice to meet you," Leon lets out a low laugh as he looks down at the pie. His eyes widen when he realizes it's shaped like an actual apple, but he makes no move to say anything as a twinge of pink crawls up his neck. "This looks... delicious," he drools, and you thank him for the compliment.

"Best eat it now! It's tastes the best when it's fresh," you smile, and he hums in response.

"U-uh, I think I'll eat it now, actually. Needed to take a break anywa-ngh—!" Mei slams her pudgy palm on top of Leon's mop of brown hair, causing the poor man to grunt. It didn't hurt, but it clearly caught him by surprise. You panic just like the day before and attempt to pull your cherub away from your neighbour, embarrassment filling your body.

"Mei-Mei! I told you that you can't just touch people like that!" You scold her lightly.

"Agh, don't yell at her—It's alright," the brunette assures you, standing up. His boots click against the concrete as he stands close.

"Please, excuse her, she's just very excited to have a new friend."

"Hey, hey—it's fine. Here," Leon ducks his head down enough for Mei to reach out. She turns her body in your arms, hands outstretching to thread into the man's hair. Unconsciously, you move closer to Leon as your daughter plays with his hair. The sight made your heart melt.

When Mei has her fill, Leon stands straight and gives you a warm smile. He has a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place, but you choose not to think about it.

"I, uhm..." you think of what to say, your eyes darting from each feature on his stubbly face. "We won't bother you now. I-if you need, something, we'll be a knock away!" you nervously ramble, slowly backing away from the gentleman.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," he coughs out, a dust of pink brushing the tip of nose. Leon watches as you turn your back to him, wiggling his fingers at the little one that waved at him from your shoulders. He walks over to the tupperware sitting on the floor of his garage after you walk into your house, entering his own with the pie in his hands.

You don't know about how the tupperware was licked clean, not even a crumb of the crust to be seen as the container is left on Leon's dining table. The next day, a knock on your door distracts you from your dishwashing.

He wasn't lying about apple pie being his favourite.

yeah im definitely going to turn this into a fic series or something i love domestic fluff i am so normal about dilf leon IM MAKING THIS HAPPEN

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x01

Aaaaaaannnnd we're back!!

OMG I cannot tell you how good it feels to be back writing costume meta - I have missed it so very much and this first episode has given me lots and lots to talk about so lets crack on with it shall we!

Where to start?! Firstly - Its amazing to have Alayna Bell-Price back in the driving seat and she is a genius because she knows the characters better than anyone and I have to say from my perspective there is a pretty clear difference between this episodes costumes and the ones from season 6 - not that s6's costumes were bad, just that you could see the shift of having a designer who didn't know the characters to the same level. I’m going to go in order of character appearance in a non uniform capacity for this one I think so we’re going to jump around from character to character a bit. There is no Maddie or Hen this week, as we don't see them out of uniform, but every one else is accounted for and I've included Norman and Lola as they've got a multi episode arc and their costumes are interesting and playing into a colour theme!

putting it below the cut as its a long post and I on't want to overtake everyones dashes! Enjoy!

We start off with Athena in this pale pink high neck ribbed sweater with large bell sleeves. I've spoken a fair amount about pale pink over the last couple of seasons of costume metas and how, in clothes its representative of childish and immature behaviours or thoughts. That holds true here - the pale pink is playing into Athena's childhood - when she developed her fear of cruise ships - its creating a connection between her childhood experiences and the woman sitting in Franks office.

We get a flashback that shows her in yellow and orange - the yellow for communication and the orange for transformation. A literal moment where we see Athena transform from the innocence of youth to her developing anxiety and fear around cruise ships. Its really clever visual storytelling connecting adult with child and shows us her fear is genuine and founded in something that she may not have been able to articualte fully as a child, but she can as an adult, even if she doesn't actually articulate it to Bobby.

Our next non uniform costume is Chimney. The lighting is really low in this scene, so it's kind of hard to be 100% sure of the colouring, but he seems to be wearing either a dark navy or black button up shirt under a dark green and black bomber jacket. The use of really dark green in combination with black, Back is a colour that can be about hiding ones vulnerabilities - concealment and masking, but it is also a colour associated with magic (generally dark magic) as well as pessimism. The green is growth and renewal, and the hope for a better future. to use them in combination i this way is playing on Chimneys insecurites and fears, his desire to keep the 'magic' alive in his relationship with Maddie, but it also speaks to his growth, that he goes home and talks to her about it (even if he does come up with an insane plan to 'date forever').

Eddie in the locker room - aside from being shirtless for much of it and pulling some epically good faces - was a super interesting costume choice. Especially the use of his watch! first though - Denim shirt time! We don't actually see Eddie in a denim shirt all that often and we've seen him in the super washed out one far more than dark denim shirts. I've been laughing a little bit at a few people (on twitter mostly) claiming its the same shirt he was wearing at the hospital during and after Bucks coma and it being a play on bringing Buck back to life. While I like the theory, its actually a very different shirt - the one in the hospital was black with a grey wash out and was made of velveteen - so different colour and fabric.

This shirt, is however one we have actually seen Eddie wear before and its far more telling than if it were the hospital shirt. You need to bear in mind that this scene is about Buck and Eddies respective girlfriends (or lack there of) and the fact that Christopher has a girlfriend now as well. This shirt is the same shirt Edie was wearing when he (re)introduced Ana to Chris in 4x08 (breaking point my beloved! the gift that keeps on giving!) and this puts a conversation about Marisol and things going well with her into the same category as Ana - suggesting she is ultimately destined for the same fate as Ana. the other thing that plays into this narrative is the use of the watch.

Eddie does not put the Christopher watch on until after he has found out that Buck has broken up with Natalia - so during the entire conversation about their respective girlfriends, he is only holding the Christopher watch, rather than wearing it.

In the picture below from 4x08 you can see that Eddie is wearing his black 'work' watch rather than the brown strapped 'Christopher' watch. Remember that the first time we see the Christopher watch is when he goes for his first date with Ana in Jinx, so he already has this watch and in theory should be wearing it in this scene. The fact he isn't is pretty telling and I'll go into that a bit more later when we get to Chris's (and Eddies) date scene.

Then we have Buck in his outfit of many colours! The white trainers, continue to play into my theory of Buck wearing them when he is in key points on his journey to discover his self - her it is about showing his growth - that he ended the relationship with Natalia - this is a massive thing when we saw how long it took for him to end things with Taylor - The man who clings is growing and getting out before it drags him down!

The jacket is similar in style to many of the ones we've seen him wearing in season 5 and 6, but this one is much brighter and more colourful. I know I go on about white meaning bad things for Buck, but that isn't relevant here - the white bad things happen to Buck theory is much more about t-shirts, jumpers and shirts rather than jackets - its an under-layer rather than a top layer that = danger. So i'm not thinking of its relevance here for this scene. What I am going to say is that this (according to my spreadsheet!) is the first time we've seen Buck in a white jacket of any description. To me, it's playing into the idea of purity and rebirth which is what white is often associated with. This plays into the comment Eddie makes welcoming Buck back to 'the land of the living' but also implies that Buck is starting a new chapter and making a fresh start - the check patterning suggests it might not all be plain sailing though.

The check pattern is an interesting one, obviously check pattern theory comes into play here, but whether its only in relation to the reveal that he split with Natalia, or if its also foreshadowing Buck getting himself into danger/trouble down the line, remains to be seen.

I'm going to quote myself again because I did predict that this scene may be about his relationship with Natalia when we got the stills dropped - the costume department never let us down!

The only thing I can do is scream into the void about check theory because check does't bode well for people - they always end up in the middle of the drama (see my check theory posts linked on my pinned post for more) and while they come out the other side (99% of the time) Buck in check for that scene in 6x18 pretty much doomed his relationship with Natalia (its specific to her and not C&K's baby as Buck wasn't wearing it when he delivered it!) and as that shirt in the still is very un Buck like, has not only yellow ochre in it, but also its a white base (and we all know buck in white is a bad sign!!) and its check patterned - my theory is that this scene is connected to Natalia in some way - either Buck is not being true to him self in more than one way - that things are going to/have come to a head for their relationship (my kingdom for a reverse of Buck to Eddie about Ana in 5x03!!!) and lead to a pretty big change in some way (fingers crossed for Buck to end it and then finally break down and deal with his trauma!!!) Some other things about that shirt - the colour combination - the green blue and yellow ochre are giving me call backs to coma Buck (another reason I think it might be connected to Bucks unresolved trauma around his death and Eddies absense in his dream)

In the quote above, I was also referring to the blue and white check pattern shirt he was wearing when he and Natalia got together, but there was also the fact that in the balcony scene at the end of 6x18, we also saw her in one of Bucks white shirts. I wrote in my 6x18 meta about how those two things combined didn't bode well for that relationship going forward, and thats what leaves me unsure about the check pattern on this white jacket being purely about something that has already happened. If I put my Buddie goggles on, I would perhaps suggest that the troubled times ahead may be more connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, and this would fit in with a couple of the things Oliver and Ryan have said. The thing with check theory though, is that generally speaking if it's on one of the mains, they come out the other side of the dram/trauma stronger than before. So if it is connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, then we can expect it to be in an even stronger position on the other side of whatever goes down (and at this point you can't strengthen their relationship any further and keep them as just friends imo!)

Chimneys forever dating proposal to Maddie, connects with his outfit when he's talking to Hen - it's the same jeans and black shirt, so the meanings of black, can be continued on into this scene - the idea of magic and hiding his vulnerabilities. The addition of the jacket with this brickwork pattern in its weave is a fun choice, it's playing into the idea of building something, but also plays into the idea that Chimney has his walls up - again fitting in with the black meaning of hiding his vulnerabilities - because instead of expressing his fears to Maddie ad then them talking it thorough, he comes up with his insane forever dating concept. the fact that much of this scene is a contrasting parallel with the scene from season 1 when he is pretending to be someone else entirely for Tatiana all ties in perfectly with this costume. The fact that he reverts to wearing blue (ran out of picture spaces so I couldn't include one) later on - when he's realised his plan isn't realistic, talks to Maddie and they end up back on the same page is really good to see - the blue being a signature Chimney colour and is indicative of him being true to himself.

Bobbys blue suit and blue check patterned shirt. The brightness of the blue is a really important choice - it's the only time we see him this brightly coloured on the cruise until he ends up in the bright red at the end. This is important because this is the moment when he's still all excited and hopeful for his honeymoon cruise - everything is good in Bobby's world at this moment in time - the check pattern is telling us that it's not going to stay that way for long. From her on out we see the colours of Bobby's costumes slowly beginning to dull and take on a washed out tone, but here in this moment all is good.

Athena's bright yellow dress is all about making her stand out - communicating with the audience, she is the brightest person in the room (in more ways than one!!). The thing with yellow, apart from the communication aspect, is that it can also be a symbol of anxiety and fear, so this dress plays rather nicely into the theme of Athenas fear of being on that ship.

The colour does have other good traits too - its fresh and bright and is a colour of happiness in its more jewel like tones and I think we can see all of these meanings in these scenes - Athena might be anxious about being on the ship, but she is also happy and enjoying herself with Bobby in that moment.

Lola and Norman. Lola is the one we need to focus on in her very bright very check patterned Victoria Beckham dress. Obviously the check pattern plays into check pattern theory, but the red also acts like a neon sign to the audience - highlighting that Lola is in danger - the ga won't pick up on check theory, although they might connect the dots about the fact this check patterning looks very like a cage - foreshadowing her being held captive later on, but also as a nod to the fact she was incarcerated previously.

The red is also a nod towards romance and love - playing into the rekindling of their relationship and romance in the aftermath of the freeway 'see me Norman' incident.

Ok so Christophers date night and by extension Eddies date night! This is where this meta is goingto get a bit messy and I'm goingto jump around a bit becasue I need to talk about the way colour theory is at play in all the scenes in Christophers bedroom, so we're going to talk about Christophers bedroom as one big thing rather than the two separate scenes that it actually is. They are extensions of one another and build on so much of the groundwork we've already seen in previous seasons.

Chris in plaid check yellow and red check plays perfectly into check pattern theory - it’s a signifier that something is about to go down with him - namely that the fact he’s dating multiple girls at the same time. 

He’s also wearing a white shirt which is not a colour we see on him all that often - in fact, the only times we’ve seen him in a completely white shirt is with his suit in 5x01 when suit shopping and again in 6x08 for his school dance. He did wear a white vest when dressed as wolverine for halloween  So as you can see its not a common colour for him, but the times have seen him wear it as a solid colour have been connected to school/girls and dating (i’m including the suit shopping in this because Ana was there and it was kind of a Eddie and Ana date of sorts - in that it was suppose to be for this Christening - meet the family - date type thing).

The most interesting thing is the plaid hooded shirt though. It was such an interesting choice to go with for a couple of reasons. the colour way is especially loud - we tend to see Chris wearing greens and blues and greys, with the odd other colour thrown in occasionally. So red and yellow are not common colours for him to be wearing.

On the red front we see him in it a couple of times - the adapted skateboarding scene and the scene in 4x10 when he joins Eddie and Ana on the sofa - getting in the way of their date night. We do also see him wear red in Christmas related episodes (so I don’t tend to count them in the same way as the Christmas colour theming will nearly always override any other colour theming intention - the use of stripes or check or other patterning is more important in those episodes!). 

On the yellow front things are even more clear cut - the Tsunami arc, the aftermath of him falling off the skateboard, Mays graduation party and 5x03’s Eddie Ana break up! These (apart from the tsunami shirt) were all bright almost neon yellow.

This new plaid shirt is more into the yellow ochre part of the yellow spectrum, therefore tying much more to the tsunami arc, which is actually really fitting if you think about it in a little more detail - its a connection, not only to Buck, but also to loss and grief. Eddie might have been using his secret weapon (Chris) to get Buck out of his moping (read mourning) over not being able to go back to work, but Christopher is also still grieving the loss of his mother at that point as well, so its not just about cheering Buck up, its also about giving Chris a chance to do something fun and distract him from his own grief. That is why the use of yellow then ties in so nicely with its use on Chris now.

The other thing that really grabbed my attention about this shirt though is the fact that the two times we’ve seen Buck have a conversation with Chris in his bedroom, he has sat in the same spot and has been wearing one of those two colours - post shooting in maroon and this episode in the yellow ochre - if you watch those two scenes side by side, you see that they’ve used almost identical camera angles as well to film Buck.

I've spoken a lot about the use of maroon as a colour connected to parenthood - especially fatherhood , which is how its intended to be read on Buck - connecting to Eddie and his being shot, pushing Buck into a parental role in Eddies absence.

That alone is a pretty loud reference to Christophers connection and relationship to Buck, but then we have the yellow ochre of it all.

I feel a little bit insane about how close my prediction was on what the Buck Christopher scene was going to be about - this is from the meta I wrote when t he stills dropped;

Whatever this scene transpires being about, based on what we've seen with Buck wearing yellow ochre, we can assume its going to continue to play into this idea of Buck not being fully truthful with people and fitting into the role he thinks people want him to pay rather than being true to himself. I do want to add to this theory by looking at Christophers shirt as well. The grey/ yellow combination is a bit reminiscent of Breaking point (the episode that really is the gift that keeps on giving) because we get Chris in grey and Eddie in tan - that is yellowish toned whilst not actually being yellow There isn't a good screenshot of them together, but the placing of Chris and Buck in the new one has echoes of Eddie and Chris in that scene (one that is interestingly enough playing into the idea of changing family dynamics, but also the moment before and the one that happens afterwards at Bucks loft, directly placing Buck into a parental role (as an aside the idea of Buck being a miracle worker plays into the theme of Eddie looking for magic, just saying!))

Indirectly this scene was about Buck not being true to himself with people and fitting into whatever role he thinks people want him to fit into, only this wasn't an active situation - this was a scene where Buck could draw on his experience of having done that in the past to help Christopher - the line from Eddie 'you didn't end up being like you' is such a call to this and actually shows how valuable Bucks own experiences and learnings are in helping Chris (we've all been joking about Eddie choosing Buck to help him with this Chris's issue, but in actual fact he was the perfect person for the job - not just because of his being a 'reformed player', but also because of his relationship with death and the death of a loved one where you are reliant on others for their memories of a person rather than having your own)

The thing with the Yellow ochre (this meta here that i've already quoted from above is the place to go if you'd like more detail on its use on Buck more widely) isn't just its about it's connection to Buck, his place in Christopher's life and more loosely to the will of it all, (the fact that Buck and Eddie are both wearing the same colour ways as in the hospital bed will reveal scene and are both on the same sides of the screen in both scenes is a stroke of genius and is meant to connect these two scenes together) its also its connection to Shannon.

The first time we meet Shannon, she sits on Christophers bed in more or less the same position as we see Buck and Eddie sit, and looks at where Christopher has been positioned in all these conversations, and she is wearing a burnt orange top thats pretty close to the dark yellow ochre we see Buck wearing. Shannon wears a lot of yellow - as in it there are only a couple of times we don't see her wearing something yellow or with yellow in it and those are key scenes (which I will talk about later on).

Shannons appearance in Christophers room to read the letter she wrote him had her in this black top with a floral patterning on it. She was also wearing green trousers (which can be seen in the still below but aren't actually seen during the scene.

I actually really loved the green trousers and black top as a choice because the top is very Shannon - it sits perfectly with the floral patterns we saw her wearing when she was still alive. The green trousers are a bit of a departure for her, but I think its very intentional for two reasons .

The first is that they are very much in the Eddie trousers wheelhouse, especially in combination with black - he wears green khaki trousers a lot. The inference being that the black and green combination is an echo of Eddie.

The second ties to Christopher. Green is also a colour we've seen on Christopher a lot, it's probably the colour we see him in most. It's being used as a reflection of the fact he is growing and transitioning from child to teenager. But having it here in this scene - on Shannon connects a Christopher growing up without his mom.

Both of these combined really connect into Shannon in this scene, tying the three of them together and on Eddies efforts to keep her alive for Christopher - the underlying implication that his growth into who he is so far is as much to do with Shannon as it is to do with Eddie.

Her necklaces were not identical to the ones we saw her in in season 2, but that's most likely because they don't have them any longer, so they've replicated them as best as they can. The other little nod that I enjoyed is the brown bracelets on her right wrist - the same place Eddie wears his brown strapped Christopher watch!

But the top they have her in plays into a couple of other things - the prominent yellow flowers make an obvious connection to Buck from the previous scene, but they also tie into the 'I want a divorce' scene from 2x17 where she is wearing a dark blue dress with bright yellow ochre flowers all over it. the dress is not especially close to the top in the wider sense - blue dress with white squares v black top with florals in a variety of colours, but the yellow flowers are the prominent aspect of both items of clothing and play into the yellow theme connected to Shannon and then to Buck.

This is espeically relevant when you remember that Eddie is in a black suit in that scene and he's wearing black when he gives the letter to Christopher.

The black for this sequence of scenes is such a poignant choice - its Eddie mourning all over again, not for his loss, but for Christophers loss. I did find it telling that again in this scene, we have the absence of the Christopher watch. Eddie has very rarely not been wearing a watch in his scenes, so the times when we don't see him wearing one are very telling.

For me, in this sequence of scenes, it's about the fact that they are not about Eddies relationship with Christopher, but about Shannons relationship with Christopher. The watch is much more about Eddie and Christopher, so to have it absent from this story arc makes total sense and is symbolic of Eddie being a good father

Then we have Christophers grey shirt - I said when we first got the stills from that scene, how it was likely to be connected to complex family relationships - a la when we’ve seen Buck wearing his grey shirt. And what do you know - the scene was about complex family dynamics/ relationships.

It wasn’t perhaps in the manner I was expecting, but that series of scenes played with the full scope of Chris’s complex family relationships - from the relationship he has with Buck -not only as Christophers friend, but also as more or less Eddies co-parent (the way Eddie asked for Bucks help screamed co-parent rather than friend imo - that whole burnt out car scene was two co-parents discussing their child!) to the relationship he has with his dad - which is a pretty great relationship, but it is a complex one.

The relationship he has with his mom - or the fact he feels he doesn’t have a relationship with her despite Eddies best efforts, because as he grows up she feels further and further away. 

Eddies 'date' night with Marisol. Again I ran out of pictures (30 is not enough!) so you're going to have to use your imagination or go back and rewatch the scene for yourselves, but trust me when I say that Eddie is wearing the same shirt he was wearing for this date night as he was in 4x10 - when Christopher interrupts because he can't sleep!

It's also a similar tee to the one Eddie wears when he has his breakdown and trashes his room (that one was more green when this one is much browner). Its slouchy and has cut and stretched raw edges at the sleeves and on the pocket - in the same way his breakdown shirt did. there is an element of being in familiar surroundings and being comfortable at home, but stretched out raw edges and Eddie generally tend to mean not so great things.

Of course there is the element of his parenting skills being tested by Christophers having more than one girlfriend, but if that where the only reason, then it would've made more sense to have him in that shirt when he's listening in to Chris talking to Buck, rather than when he's on a date with a new girlfriend.

This is especially true as the screen time for that tee has more connection with Marisol than it does with Chris. Combined with the fact that once again, like in the locker room scene, he is not wearing his Christopher watch in this scene and that speaks volumes.

If we are to read the scene as being about Christopher soley, he should be wearing his watch because that watch is a physical embodiment of the importance of Christopher in Eddies life - that he puts Christopher first in all things.

Got to say I was a bit shocked to see Marisol in his bright magenta silk spaghetti strap top when you consider the costumes we saw her in last season - mostly dressed down, t-shirts, jumpers and dungarees so this is a complete 180 for her character.

There are a few interesting things connected to her outfit, firstly it low key ties into Natalia - we saw Natalia in a red version of this top for her first proper onscreen date with Buck (when they go to the badge and ladder joint) so there is an interesting low key parallel to draw there. There is also the fact that her bracelet is a chain one - much like we've seen on all of Buck and Eddies previous girlfriends - although those have been necklaces, so I'm undecided if this chain bracelet is paying into the same trope as those.

Then there is the pink of it all.

You see Eddie and Pink on his girlfriends doesn't bode well for Marisol.

Both Shannon and Ana wore pink. Ana wore it a lot - there are two examples below, but generally speaking its her most commonly worn colour - including on her first date with Eddie in Jinx.

The first example below is from the first time we see her in the Diaz house. the shades are different, but the fact that the first time we see both characters in the Diaz house they're both wearing pink, speaks volumes.

The other key use of Pink is when Shannon is at the beach with Eddie and Christopher and she tells Eddie she's pregnant - Eddie takes it as the sign he has been looking for - the chance to effectively start over with their marriage, but this is the beginning of the end for their relationship, even if she hadn't died a short while later. She is wearing pale pink in that scene and it's the only time we see her wear the colour in the show.

The fact we can also contrast the use of pink with when Buck wears it is telling in its own right - we see the relationship between Buck and Eddie strengthening when Buck wears pink - May's graduation party, the tsunami, the Hildy coffee machine - all moments (big and small) that show the development of various aspects of their relationship and its ability to endure.

Essentially all this use of pink on the women he has had previous relationships with, doesn't bode well for Marisol and the longevity of her relationship with Eddie. How quickly it will end I can't say, just that it will end.

I spoke earlier in this post about colour theming for the episode and this is where I talk about it!

Pink - and in particular the very bright pinks we saw scattered across the episode. Marisol above wearing it, isn't just about connecting her to Ana in costume terms (especially as at this point that costume is a departure of her costumes from s6) it also connects her to the other characters we see wearing bright pink in this episode - Lola and Norman.

At this point in time I'm not sure if we're going to see it play out as a theme across the season, but its use in this episode was very loud on characters that are going to be around for more than 1 episode. It suggests that there is some underlying theme that connects them (by this I don't mean that they're gonna meet and hang out I mean that personality traits are going to be similar)

Magenta and bright pink in colour theory means a few different things, and like with all colours, has positive and negative traits. Generally speaking its a loud and brash colour thats designed to stand out and draw attention to it's wearer.

Things that are considered positive traits for this shade of pink are; intensity, acceptance, kindness and it's supportive and uplifting nature. It's connected to naive love (as in lust rather than the passionate and enduring love of red) can also be considered a nurturing colour.

Negative traits are; intensity, volatility, arrogant and impatient, irritability and irritating and frustration. it is also said to be a stress inducing colour and is said to be overly emotional.

Theres a clear and fairly loud connection between Lola and Norman getting into danger - Lola is in magenta trousers when she is kidnaped. Norman also has bright magenta flowers on his shirt at this point as well. My guess at this point is that we're supposed to lean into the stress inducing element, and also the irritating nature of the colour (On Athenas part at the very least!) and we'll see if those are the themes that play out for Marisol as well down the line.

Norman is in bright pink when he's lying and claiming she's unwell from being outside or too long. We also see that he is wearing pink in the ditsy print shirt later on (again I ran out of picture spaces!)

Athena's black top in this scene is much like the use of Chimney in black in his scenes. It's all about power and authority but it's also about her hiding her vulnerabilities. The other thing it does is creates a huge contrast with Bobby and all of the other passengers - she is the only one in black in the scene and it contrasts her with the underlying white of Bobbys shirt - juxtaposing them and visually putting them at odd with one another.

Like I said above about him becoming increasingly pale - here we see Bobby in a sea-foam green shirt - its the palest and washed out colour we've seen him in on this cruise (grey pyjama shirt not being included as its blink and you miss it and a pyjama tee!!!). Sea-foam green doesn't really play into the traditional meanings of green - there is still the element of renewal about it (the sea washes the sand etc)but its mostly a self-conscious and uncertain colour - both things that perfectly sum up how Bobby is feeling in this moment.

The other fun thing about this outfit is the palm tree shorts the patterns Bobby has worn in relation to this cruise, up to this point (and that includes the shirts from season 6) have all been tropical themed but on his shirts, the fact that they've now slipped down onto his shorts is a visual representation of him becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the way his honeymoon is going - that the tropical vacation vibes are slipping away.

Athenas red and white shirt, in my opinion is showing her cross purposes - its the duality of investigating and being on a cruise in a shirt. The bright red ties into the red and blue first responder colour way the show uses (for obvious reasons) while the white and the palm fronds, the lei flowers and the watery theming of the pattern fit into the troipical cruise they're on.

Bobbys red shirt contrasts with the lavender that we see on Athena - its not a colour we see on Bobby all that often and that makes its use all the more important. Especially considering the entire cruise thus far we've seen him in blues and greens - especially pale closer to pastel tones.

This red is bright snd bold and unlike his usual choices. Red is a colour of cross meaning - there is obviously the connection with love and the heart, which is absolutely at play her - his love for Athena is spurring him on and is part of what is pushing him in to investigator Bobby mode - and its representation of love is what is going to be the key player in the up coming episodes on the ship - when he is looking for Athena during the evacuation etc. But the other meaning of red is war, courage and anger and that is very much present here in this episode, and will (i'm assuming) be later on in 7x02 and 3.

The other thing I think its worth pointing out at this point (which is pure conjecture on my part at this moment in time but that I think will become relevant in the next two episodes rather than this one) is the foreshadowed parallel with Buck in season 5 when he broke down Eddies door. The bright red we saw him wearing then was an uncommon colour for him, in the same way it is for Bobby here. It's paralleling the way Buck was prepared to go into battle for Eddie, with the way Bobby is prepared to do so for Athena - going to war for your closest person, your loved one and doing what you need to do to save them.

Putting Athena in lavender the moment she gets to go into cop mode was a choice that had me giggling! Lavender is a colour of relaxation and order so for her to start wearing it the moment she gets to start being a cop again - speaks volumes for her state of being - it shows that her fear of being on the cruise ship and of being alone with bobby, has been overridden by her need to do her job and start investigating things. Its the perfect colour for this moment and for the impeding trouble brewing on the ship - Athena will bring order to things as order has been restored to her inner world.

Hopefully you've enjoyed this little canter through the costumes of 7x01 we're back in business and I can't wait to read your comments in the tags and comments 🥰

Tagging for those who've asked to be tagged - drop me a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the list for the next meta 😎

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mandzuking17 @spotsandsocks @loveyou2thecore @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @nathleigh @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @inandoutoffocus @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @lemotmo @bi-moonlight @satvojihusana @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @mongreloer @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud

[miss-cincaide]

Numbers Three To Ten 

Summary: You feel pity for the way he whines that he’s all alone, that a woman will never want to sleep with him, inadvertently walking right into the sweet torture he’s set out for you, with toys and a set up that leaves you desperately counting up from three to ten. 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Mahito  Kinktober prompt 6: Gags  WC: 1.9K Warnings: Dark content  including gag ball, light choking, toys, pressure, some unhealthy play, feet, multiple O's, jerking off,

“Women don’t love me!” 

“All women?” You raise a slim eyebrow at the pale-skinned, patched-together curse opposite you. A little smirk plays on your lips as you watch him, his head on his arm, staring at the alcoholic Mohito in front of himself. His free hand grips the measly straw, trying to stab the mint leaves in his drink. “Or just the women you’ve asked out? You know, the normal ones who don’t dig curses, stitches and death-coloured skin.” 

You wave your hand in his general direction, and Mahito sticks his tongue out, making a face of your words. You flip him the bird, and he goes right back to pouting. 

“Ahh, what’s the point? They’re all just going to say the same thing anyway!” Mahito buries his head in his arm like a little moody kid who didn’t get his favourite toy for Christmas. “Unless you’re buying them off the streets, none of them will ever say yes to me!” 

He is precisely like a moody, spoiled kid on Christmas, except where the ‘toy’ is sex, and ‘Christmas’ a woman putting out without him having to pay for the hour. You’d have felt an inch of pity for him if he weren’t the boss's favourite. The fact of the matter is if Mahito wanted anything, Kenjaku would most probably give it to him. He’d make his work his pretty curse ass for it, but Mahito would get his wish fulfilled nonetheless. A fact that made you, who was just hired to do odd jobs here and there, never a guarantee to the group, funds or safety,  just the slightest bit bitter. 

“As I said, just the women you ask out. You can’t expect a babe who sees a grey corpse to drop her panties for you” You take a clunk of your rusty nail half, finishing the drink. “Go for someone with cursed energy; a sorcerer, another curse, hell, even a human with sight who hangs around the cemetery, and your chances of getting your dick wet will skyrocket.” 

Suddenly, Mahito is in your face, eyes wide and a manic grin to match. “So if I ask you for a night, you’ll say yes?” 

You realise you walk right into that one. Some of you feel embarrassed, and others a little awkward at being propositioned so openly at the hideout.  Although you’re alone in this fake hideout bar, with only bottles and glasses to keep you company, there’s no telling who or what is listening in. Still, you hide that embarrassment behind your glass, taking a long sip while considering his question. Mahito is cute, shorter and smaller than your usual type, but not ugly. His power and connections are an added bonus- a make-up factor for his likely shortcomings in other departments. Because let’s face it, those skinny jeans weren’t hiding a 10-incher. 

“Maybe” " you mumble, a hint of a smile on your lips as you down the last of your drink- a feeble attempt to hide from his prying eyes and lewd grin. When that didn’t help or get him to back away, you ruffled his hair as though he were a kid. He gets back in your face, though, slowly licking his lips, something between a pervy grin and a predatory smile. 

You shudder and jump off the barstool. 

“I’m gonna hold you to it”, Mahito calls, finishing his drink and then rushes to catch up to you with quick steps. 

You just roll your eyes, trying to keep your blush at bay as he practically dances around you as though you were a Christmas tree. “So whatcha into, kitten? Choking? Slapping? Doggy? Doesn’t matter! I’m sure you won't return to the boring stuff once you have some of me.” 

He dances around you towards his room, opening it with a kick before jumping behind and urging you in. The place, to your surprise, is barren, practically empty. Everything is meticulously stuffed away in drawers and cupboards. The bed looks clean, almost untouched. Although you probably shouldn’t be surprised if he only used it for ‘fun times’- curses didn’t sleep, did they? 

You find your voice and speak, an unmistakable shake in it as you answer his cocky comment. “Won’t go back? Damn, that sounds like a threat Mahito. Are you going to what? Turn me into one of those moaning blobs of yours.” 

You laugh, he doesn’t.

 He is too busy rooting around the cupboards in his room, moving one thing, second, third, cursing before he’s back in front of you again with such speed he makes you jump. Or was it the room's dim lighting that made you miss his movements? 

“You mean morph your soul? Hmm, I could do that if you don’t behave, that is,” His hands reach for your face, cold fingers grasp your cheeks in one of his hands, and he turns your face side to side before smooshing them together. “ I like my women quiet, you know? None of that fake moans, talk, gaps, praise.” 

You try- and fail- to pull your lips into a frown. “Beggers can’t be choosers”, you try to mutter, but it comes out muffled. You slap his hand away and try to repeat yourself. “Beggars can-” he cuts you off by showing a ball gag against your lips.

Suddenly, Mahito slams you against the door behind you. The little curse, a head shorter than you, suddenly feels the same height. His eyes are practically glowing, a wide, sadistic grin on his face, a knee between your legs, a hand on your throat squeezing just enough to let you know it’s there. And the other is still holding the ball gag to your lips, pushing right past them up against your teeth. 

“ I said, I like my women quiet. Now, be a kitten and do as you’re told. Or else. You won’t like ‘what else’” Mahito watches you, your every reaction, your every breath, a challenge in his expression. The hand around your throat tightens slightly, and you break eye contact with him. 

When did the pewny little Mahito become such a dominating ass? 

You don’t know whether to be surprised, aroused or scared. The one thing is certain: you’re not leaving anytime soon, certainly not until he’s done with you. Almost angrily, your teeth part, and you wrap your lips around the gag ball. Instantly, Mahito’s hands let go of your body and reach behind you to tie the thing firmly into place. 

“ That's not so bad, right?” You groan a reply, words unformable. “Ahh ahh ahh, quiet women, remember?” Mahito waves a finger in front of you in a side-to-side motion before tilting your chin up. Then his hand trails lower, first slowly, then inhumanly fast, as though he had several arms. “You won’t be needing those”

You blink, your clothes are gone, your naked aroused body on full display. But he isn’t fucking touching you, no, Mahito is pulling you to his bed. He stops you a distance away, changes his mind and jumps behind you, his hands on your eyes. “Let's make it a surprise, a fun surprise doll. To warm you up, pick a number, let's say between one and five.” 

Remember his wonders: you raise your fingers, three. Number three feels safe, even as he pushes you to the bed and then kicks you into it. You brace yourself against the covers, wiping off the dripping ball against the sheets. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation, shifting a little on the bed to rub your legs together, getting yourself even more worked up. This is so weird but also exciting, definitely kinky.

Maybe you’ll even get off on this.

You hear him count: one, two, three. What even was three? You don’t know; it felt like a middle ground, a safe place – oh god! 

A fucking vibrator?! Straight on your unexpected clit?!

You scream, and the ball muffles the sound, the feeling so intense you try to wiggle away from it. Mahito pulls your right back, a foot landing on your head keeps you from squirming away, a hand pulls your arms back, locking them on your back, and the other hand’s torturing your pussy. On your clit, around it, down your slick folds and back up again. Speeding up, slowing down. Pressing hard down, then gentle, then gone. 

“Ohh, is it so intense, kitten? Let's see how you handle number 4” Mahito’s foot readjusts on the back of your head, pressing your drooling face into the mattress. You’re shuddering, gasping in anticipation, trembling.  

Is number four bigger? Is it also a vibrator? A dildo? FUCK it was a rabbit. Four inches inside you, two vibrating ears bullying your clit. 

“Mmmmm!” 

The ball in your mouth is tight and soaked, drool pooling under your face, leaving a huge wet patch on the bed. But it doesn’t match the gush of your pussy around the toy. Hot juices everywhere: on Mahito, on his hand and the bed. And you’re whimpering and twitching on the bed even after the toy is gone, and his foot still keeps your face down, you keep your needy ass up.  

“Five?” 

You nod quickly. The foot disappears, and he pulls you up with his hair. You’re on your knees on the bed, hands behind your back. Mahito holds it for you as you slide down the five-inch dildo. Once it’s snuggly inside you, he lets it go, leaving you to bounce on it alone. 

You don’t disappoint, whining as you ride it. Your eyes locked with him, the way he watches your every move from the sidelines. Hand on his cock, stroking himself to your thrusts. You want to give him a show, throwing your head back, putting extra effort in your thrusts so your tits bounce up and down with each thrust of your hips. You whine and slobber, drool pooling around the gag before it rolls down your chin. 

You stick your tongue out and lap at the ball from the side just a little. In that second, you see something change in Mahito; he’s moaning, his hand picking up speed, and then slows down as you do. “Keep going, kitten, come on, work those slutty thighs. Go on; I wanna hear you moaning as you cum around that tiny toy.” 

Who are you to deny him? 

You drop back on your back as your come, eyes on the ceiling, desperately panting, keenly aware of the toy slowly sliding out of your slick hole. You whine a little; you want it in you, pushed as far as it would go. Mojito leaves you whining, not letting you touch it or yourself until your breathing goes back to normal.

You’ve recovered; it's time for round three. 

“Still Needy?” Mahito’s laughing at you, toying with you, pushing the tip of the Rabbit in and out, relishing in the sight. “If that’s how you’re at five, just wait until we get to ten, kitten.” 

You want to scream ‘fuck yeah,’ but all you let out is an excited moan and a manic grin that matches his own. You don’t know why you hesitated to sleep with Mahito or why anyone would hesitate to have such intense sex with him, but at this point, you consider it their loss. Because after five, there are still four numbers, and your pussy can’t wait to try every one of them out. 

To see which one you like best, of course.

Author note! God it's so frustrating that Tumblr keeps filtering my fics out from the latest feed.. anyone knows why it keeps doing that?

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All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[g1rld1ary]

Hey!! I saw you write for lockwood & co, so I've been summoned ✨

May I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where it's basically like the deleted scene where Lucy is in a towel and compliments Lockwood's pajamas, and Lockwood (probably panicking) says he likes her towel and he has this face of instant regret

Basically that but with reader and maybe they're already dating? Thank you so much!!

nice towel - anthony lockwood x reader

wc: 922

cw: r gets caught in just a towel, kissing (slightlyyyy suggestive content maybe??), swearing

thank u so much for this request sweetheart!! i know it took so long but it was so fun to write -- i know i took it in a little different direction but i hope u enjoy & i did ur req justice!!!! lots of love xoxo

It wasn’t always easy living with your coworkers. Especially when your coworkers were all teenagers your age, including your very new boyfriend. Having four people in relatively cramped quarters was bound to bring uncomfortable situations, but you all tried to handle it like the adults you weren’t yet.

The aforementioned uncomfortable situations happened most often surrounding the bathroom. One bathroom between four people wasn’t the worst arrangement in the world, but with four people with such irregular schedules, it was inevitable that sometimes your visits would coincide.

Usually it wasn’t so bad; two people sharing the sink as they brushed their teeth, you sitting in the shower (clothed, of course) shaving your legs as George did his hair. Life was mostly peaceful.

You were taking a Sunday night everything shower, washing your hair and using the fancy exfoliator and body wash you got as a birthday gift. Your body was smooth, you felt glowing and you were wrapped in a fluffy warm towel, painting your toes as you sat on the toilet. You were the last to shower so you had no inclination to rush, knowing there wasn’t a great chance of anyone bursting in with any urgency.

Except, of course, Lockwood and Co. never did what you expected. A loud banging came through the door and you jumped, swiping the nail polish over your skin instead of the nail.

You jumped up regardless, clutching your towel tightly across your chest as you opened the door. George, Lucy and Lockwood stood on the other side, all in their pyjamas and panting slightly. You stared at them, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“What do you remember about the Jefferson House ghost?” George asked, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“Jefferson House ghost. The poison case. I was visiting family, Lucy wasn’t part of the company yet and Lockwood is useless at remembering research. What do you remember?” You were still struggling to understand the purpose of this question, but shrugged and answered anyway, rattling off whatever you could remember about the house, the ghost and the case.

“You’re so much more useful than Lockwood,” Lucy said, shooting you both a teasing smile. Lockwood rolled his eyes, but amusement shone through underneath.

“Right. Well, I’d like to get back to my night, uh,” You caught a glance of Lockwood’s matching pink set of pyjamas, “Nice pyjamas.” Lockwood glanced down at his outfit and you swore you saw him blush, a rosy colour similar to his shirt. Lucy and George watched between you.

“Thanks,” He said, eyes giving you a once over, “Nice… towel.” You could actually see the regret seeping into his bones, mortified cringe screwing up his features. You bit your lip, an awkward giggle escaping as all four of you stood, slightly unsure of what to do.

You took the initiative, slowly backing away from the group, pressing the door closed as you heard Lucy’s deadpan: “Lockwood, what the fuck?” and his panicked reply.

“I panicked!”

You had a total physical reaction, the tangible awkwardness of the moment permeating through the bathroom. You did an embarrassing wriggle-shake-expelling of discomfort and immediately felt better, going so far as to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

You and Lockwood had only been dating for a few months, trying to take things slow and ensure you weren’t compromising the state of the company. Therefore, you hadn’t spent the night in his room yet. So you’d never seen Lockwood in his adorable matching set of flannels and he’d never seen you less than fully clothed (with the exception of him patching you up a few times where you looked so unsexy).

Later that night, you knocked softly on Lockwood’s door, pushing it open gently. Only the lamp was still on, Lockwood reading in his bed, still dressed in the pink pyjamas. He looked up when you entered, surprised but not at all disappointed.

Your usual rule was that you spent time together in the library at night; private but not at risk of crossing lines that might make George or Lucy uncomfortable — the company was both of your priorities.

“I am so sorry for before,” Lockwood begged for forgiveness, smile both embarrassed and entertained. You shook your head, dismissing the apology.

“It’s ok, I laughed.” He relaxed immediately, megawatt smile back out for you to admire. He patted the spot beside him and you all but dove in next to him, giddy at the feeling of being in his bed. “Your pyjamas are really cute, by the way.” He blushed again, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You hoped he couldn’t feel your racing heart.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted with mischief, “You looked pretty cute in the towel too.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you, looking up at him through your lashes in a way you knew he liked.

“Yeah.” He swooped down and stole a kiss, triumphant when he pulled away until you grabbed the back of his neck, connecting your lips deeper. He let out a startled noise before he melted into it, adjusting you to a more comfortable position underneath him.

Lockwood pulled away to admire the view.

“Maybe we need to rethink our rules,” He murmured, playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“Anthony, I swear to God, if you don’t keep kissing me —”

You didn’t have to finish the sentence.

[ghostiguro]

shamwow ref sheet, finally!!!!! :D

figuring out how to draw them was tough, still ironing out their design a bit, but overall i'm happy with how it looks. :3

you know what time it is-- ramble that no one asked for, aw yeahhh.

firstly, when designing them i for sure knew i wanted their design to be fuzzy & inspired by a tarantula; i know they're supposed to be a jumping spider but.. don't care, fuzzy spider supremacy. also tarantulas have weirdly adorable paws?? i love it.

their eye colour is supposed to be somewhere between red & violet; they look a bit more pink than i intended, so i'll probably adjust that as time goes by.

final thing i wanna add about their design specifically; because they are the eldest sibling, & it's insinuated that they absolutely merced all the other gods, i wanted their design to stand out more & be a little more fancy to show their status. i want to eventually add more details cuz i feel like i could make it look way cooler, but this is good for now. :3

it's made clear in the game that the bishops relied on the crowns to work around their disabilities, so when shamura is indoctrinated into the cult, they struggle a LOT with their head injury. their symptoms including, but not limited to; memory loss, poor facial recognition, visual trouble, brain fog, migraines, loss of fine motor skills, lack of balance & coordination, vertigo, struggles with vocabulary (stutters, can't find words, or sometimes makes up their own words), they often repeat things that don't really have much meaning, hand tremors, hallucinations, etc. they start out really bad, & their injury would be far worse if it weren't for the fact that they're a god & the crown prevented the injury from being as bad as it could have been. their siblings are all very patient with them, & the lamb assigns them a buddy as they begin to recover & are able to move around the cult grounds more. they eventually get to a point where they're able to function, still with moderate memory loss & brain fog, as well as migraines & hand tremors, but it takes them a *long* time to get to that point.

in their free time, they used to enjoy sewing & reading, but due to their injury, they struggle a lot with it which frustrates them to no end. they later get glasses to help with their vision so they can read, & learn how to knit & crochet, as sewing is a bit hard when your hands are constantly shaking & you're holding a tiny needle & thread.

later on in their recovery, they start helping out around the cult, doing a little bit of everything; they help the lamb with everyday duties when they can, usually small errands like delivering & retrieving items (they write them a little note in case they get lost along the way; shamura holds onto many of these notes, & have a basket in their room filled with notes they've collected over time); they help leshy in the farm/garden, heket in the kitchen when she's chefing it up, & kallamar in the healing bay, & occasionally keeps him company while he paints or crafts things. eventually, shamura & narinder are able to repair their relationship-- i haven't figured out what exactly narinder's tasks & hobbies are yet but they would keep him company & help when they can, too.

ok this is getting long so i'm gonna leave it here for now. :3

now i just have to finish the lamb & goat, & then all the rest of the characters & cult members... hoo boy.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Acting Like Teenagers

Here is the next chapter for Dating App. Things get a little more heated between Rafael and Miss Librarian.

Warnings: Nothing much, a little heavy petting and make out session.

Master List

Prompt List

One , Two , Three , Five , Six , Seven , Eight, Nine, Ten

So far it had been a boring day at the library but it was looking to shape up a little. You had just gotten about six boxes and if they were what you were hoping? Well, you were just about jumping in excitement. You had managed to convince the boss to allow a monthly theme, chosen by different staff members to start with and then allowing the public to have a say, where you would have a table or two dedicated to books that matched the theme. There would also be some activities throughout the month as well, aimed to provide people with the opportunity to learn more about whatever the theme was. Since you had come up with the idea you had been given the first month. Your chosen theme was Mythology, specifically Greek.

The boxes were some decorations as well as some new books and you were about to have a day filled with making the tables as well as starting to prepare the some of the activities. You had already handed out a list of the activities you and a few other librarians had brainstormed. Which included some amazing colouring in pictures of the Greek Gods and Goddesses, as well as some demi-gods with a few pieces of information about them. An adult activity planned later in the month was a trivia night, coming in costume optional but highly encouraged. Without even thinking you pulled out your phone taking a picture of the first box you had opened.

‘I am about to have an entire month geeking out over books inspired by or that have some Greek Mythology themes, plus getting to teach kids about the stories of the Gods and Goddess…though highly edited to make them child friendly!’

You sent that message to Rafael along with the photo. You paused for a moment, realising that the first thing you wanted to do when you found out these boxes where for your monthly book theme was share your excitement with Rafael. You drummed your fingers on the box in-front of you trying to decide to if you wanted to deal with that particular realisation or leave it. You sighed as you opened the next box, mind still juggling the two options before the title of a book caught your eye and the excitement was back tenfold allowing you to happily ignore everything else.

--

‘I am about to have an entire month geeking out over books inspired by or that have some Greek Mythology themes, plus getting to teach kids about the stories of the Gods and Goddess…though highly edited to make them child friendly!’

Rafael felt his phone vibrate against his leg as he stood in the squad room, listening to the detectives run through the latest update in the current case. He pulled it out, the detectives very use to him doing so, he looked down at it, smiling the moment he saw your name. That smile softening from the excited upturn when he read your message, he could imagine the way your eyes would light up when you opened he boxes and if you had been speaking these words how your hands would have been gesturing excitedly around you. Rafael hadn’t even noticed that Amanda had stopped speaking, drawing everyone’s attention to him, all of them sharing looks when they saw the way he was looking at his phone.

“Counsellor?” Carisi asked. Rafael forced his eyes away from his phone, the look dropping away from his face in a second when he realised that they had all seen it.

“Who’s on the other end?” Finn asked leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Rafael tried to deflect. “Rollins, you were saying?”

“It can wait,” Amanda grinned. “I’ve seen you pull a lot of faces Barba, but never one like that. Plus, the fact that Liv prevented us from contacting you the other night.”

“And yesterday at lunch we also were not allowed to call you,”  Nick added. Finn and Carisi nodded along, while Olivia was standing back. Rafael had spent the better part of yesterday afternoon filling her in on both dates he had with the you. She had to stop herself from overreacting at times, she had no idea that Rafael could be so adorable. She really wanted to meet you, if only to see Rafael’s reactions to you in person. And maybe sneak a few photos.

“Sometimes, I hate how good you all are,” he grumbled. “It was someone I have been on two dates with. She messaged me about something she’s doing at the library she works at, she’s excited about it and wanted to share it.”

“She seems adorable from what Rafael has told me,” Liv finally interjected. “And she’s very pretty. Will keep him on his toes that’s for sure.”

“Okay now I need to know everything,” Amanda grinned taking a seat next to Finn.  

“We do have a case,” Rafael gestured to the boards around them. “Shouldn’t we focus on that?”

“We’ll get back to that,” Finn unsurprisingly added his voice to the conversation, his grin speaking volumes. Even Nick and Carisi were sitting there with grins on their faces, Rafael sighed knowing full well that if he wanted to get back on track he would have to talk.

“Fine,” he agreed. “Just one moment.” He looked back down at his phone, your message still opened there. The team all shared a look, grinning at each other the minute Rafael’s face changed back to that adorable soft expression.

‘You’ll have to tell me all about it at lunch. I expect photo updates, Miss Librarian.’

--

You had just finished unboxing the first two boxes you had opened, making sure to correctly catalogue them and mark them off against the invoice. You had started separating them into different piles for each of the planned activities and the books.  There was another pile of some of the decorations you would be taking home to work on, some drawings to colour in, some posters and banners to put together and paint. You were excited. You had just started opening the next box when your phone lit up from where it was on the table.

‘You’ll have to tell me all about it at lunch. I expect photo updates, Miss Librarian.’

“Fuck this man,” you muttered. “How can he be this amazing?”

“Ooh, you talking about the man you went on that date with?” your friend Lily asked as she came into the storage room.

“Yes,” you whined. “He likes how I get excited about books and he didn’t look bored when I rambled to him. I sent him a photo telling him about the plans for this month and he said I’ll have to tell him about it.”

“You lucked out with him,” she said. “I’ve had no luck with men. How old is he?”

“Well, he’s 45,” you said twisting a strand of hair around your finger.

“Ooh girl, I’m so proud you didn’t change the age range,” Lily nudged you with her shoulder. “Have you matched with any other interesting men?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “I didn’t look at any of them after matching with Rafael and since we exchanged numbers after dinner the other night I haven’t even looked at the app, even turned off notifications for it.”

“Ooh, you got it bad for him already huh?!” she gushed.

“It definitely seems that way, I mean the first thing I wanted to do after opening these boxes was message him, which I did with zero thought,” you blushed a little admitting that. “Plus, well, our first kiss was pretty fiery, even as tame as it was cause we were in public. I mean the man also kissed my knuckles after our first date, at which he also pulled out my chair and helped me out of my coat and then back into it. And he says what he thinks, he literally ran to meet me for our second date, apologising for being late, even though he messaged me telling me he would and it was only ten minutes.”

“Take a breath,” Lily laughed. “Fiery huh? Thought you didn’t believe in that kinda stuff.”

“Well, Rafael might have me rethinking it,” you grinned.

“Maybe I need to increase my age range,” Lily said tapping her chin in thought.

“I mean it might be worth it,” you agreed.

“When are you seeing him next?” Lily asked helping you with the next box.

“Tomorrow, for lunch,” you answered looking back at your phone. “Just gonna respond to him, let me take a photo of what we have. He wanted photo updates.”

“Sounds like he’s got it bad as well,” Lily giggled hoping out of the way to let you take a shot of what you had pulled out so far.

‘I’m looking forward to it. You might regret telling me to send photo updates, I’m notorious for sending a lot! Here’s the loot from the first two boxes!’ you attached the images and sent the messages.

“Alright, I want all the details while we finish this,” Lily informed you. “So get talking.”

“So pushy!” you laughed. “Alright, well, his name is Rafael, he’s an ADA for the Special Victims Unit.”

“Wait, Special Victims, they deal with sexual based crimes don’t they?” Lily interrupted.

“Yeah, he said it was confronting but rewarding work,” you nodded. “He warned about long and hectic working hours in his profile but I’m not bothered. The work he does is important.”

“Very important, so can we assume from that that he is potentially a feminist?” Lily asked. “Which I think is important.”

“I also think that’s important,” you nodded. “I haven’t asked him but I have a feeling he might be. He asked if he could kiss me before he did, which I know doesn’t automatically make him a feminist but I figure it’s a good sign.”

“Hm, we’ll gather some more evidence before making a final decision,” Lily determined. “Alright, keep going!”

You shook your head in amusement at your friend but obliged her none the less. Rafael had Liv, and you had Lily, it had been with her that you had had one too many cocktails and downloaded the app that lead to you Rafael so you figure she should get some details.

--

Rafael was sitting at his dinning table, taking a break from his work. He was trying to work out if it would be worth it booking somewhere for lunch tomorrow. After he had filled in the team things had suddenly became hectic as another victim turned up. He had hoped that you two would be able to meet at a café but he really hoped that you meant it when you said you were happy to have lunch at his office. He had just picked up his phone to message you when a series of alerts popped up. All messages from you. One quick text and a number of photos.

‘Keeping my promise of photo updates.’ The first photos included pictures of potential ways you were thinking of displaying the books. The next series were photos that looked like they were taken in your living room, it showed banners and posters with some of the Greek Gods and Goddesses, half of them painted and the others blank. One included a photo of you with a paint brush and some paint on your nose as you held up a completed picture, a proud look on your face. Rafael laughed as he saved that photo, putting in the folder with the photo you had sent the day of your first date.

‘They all look amazing, you didn’t mention you enjoy painting,’ Rafael sent back. He bit his lips before sending another photo. ‘I hope you are alright with me saving some of the photos you have sent.’

God he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

--

You had just finished the banner you would be putting up at the entrance of the library. You somehow gotten a little paint on your face, but instead of removing it you left it there, knowing that you would somehow get more paint on yourself, as you always did whenever you painted. You sat your brush to the side, to start cleaning up but before you could start your phone vibrated.

‘They all look amazing, you didn’t mention you enjoy painting.’

You smiled as you read Rafael’s message. You were about to start responding when another message came through.

‘I hope you are alright with me saving some of the photos you have sent.’

You grinned at his confession, you thought it was cute that he wanted to save your photos, you figured he meant the photo you sent of you in the park and most likely the selfie you just sent. You weren’t bothered by him saving them but you liked that he didn’t hide it.

‘Thank you, I don’t do it often but I enjoy it, mostly I just paint landscapes. I’m fine with you doing that, so long as I can do that same if you send me any photos.’

--

‘Thank you, I don’t do it often but I enjoy it, mostly I just paint landscapes. I’m fine with you doing that, so long as I can do that same if you send me any photos.’

Rafael grinned at your response, he found himself wanting to watch you paint. Maybe he could suggest going back to where you guys had a hot chocolate in the park so you could paint the trees, maybe even that bridge. And he was happy that once again he hadn’t made a wrong move with you. He stared at the last part of your message, he realised that for all you two had messaged each other he hadn’t sent you any photos. He didn’t tend to think to take any, hell all of his photos on the app had been ones that Liv had taken. But at this moment he wanted to send you something, he glanced at himself in the mirror his hair was a little dishevelled, and he still had part of his suit on, he had removed the jacket and unbuttoned his vest, with his suspenders showing underneath, his tie was loosened and he had unbuttoned several of his shirt buttons. Since his last two risks had proven to be good ideas he trusted this risk would be the same.

‘I would like to see any, if you let others view them. It wouldn’t be fair for me to deny you the chance to save photos of me, when you allow me.’ He sent that with a photo attached.

--

You had just finished cleaning up, scrubbing the paint off of your face and your hands when his next message came through. You almost dropped your phone when your saw the photo he had attached. You thought he was handsome at dinner, you thought him distractingly charming at your second date. But at this very second you thought him insanely and unfairly sexy. He wasn’t as put together as you were use to, but you thought it suited him, plus the fact that you could see the suspenders under the vest he wore and his shirt had enough buttons undone that you could see some chest hair. You immediately saved that photo. You finally read the message he had sent with the photo.

‘I would like to see any, if you let others view them. It wouldn’t be fair for me to deny you the chance to save photos of me, when you allow me.’

You never really let others see your work, but maybe you could eventually allow Rafael to see some of your pieces. You found your eyes focusing back on the photo as the kiss you shared with him kept replaying. You honestly hoped that lunch would be at his office tomorrow so you could kiss him again, without having to worry about the public. As you were looking at the photo again another message of his popped up.

‘I think lunch might have to be at my office tomorrow if you are still okay with that. This case has just become a little hectic.’

“Well, this works quite nicely for me,” you grinned. “Now the question is do I buy something or make it?” You had a quick look in your fridge and pantry to see if you had something that could be made and eaten cold. You could keep it in the fridge at the library and carry it the lunch bag you got with a block. You had the ingredients for your chicken, pasta salad. Perfect. You pulled your phone out to respond to his message about lunch. You decided you would bring up the photo then

‘Absolutely, still okay with that. I’ll make something for our lunch then.’

--

You double checked the address Rafael had given you for his office before walking into the rather intimidating building. You wore some snug jeans, a sweater with the front tucked in and a leather jacket over it. You had a beanie on and a scarf to deal with the cold as you travelled from the library to his office, you had a little make up which you didn’t normally do for work, however you forewent lipstick. You carried the lunch you had prepared for Rafael in your little lunch tote.   

“Can I help you?” a gorgeous woman questioned you as you looked around checking to make sure you were in the right place. This building was massive and you had almost gotten lost trying to find Rafael’s office.

“Oh, um, I’m meant to be having lunch with Rafael?” you lifted your tote up a little. “I’m-”

“Chica,” Rafael’s voice interrupted you as he walked out of his office to greet you. “Thanks Carmen, you can go for lunch.”

Carmen smiled at the both of you as she clicked a few buttons on the phone and the computer before leaving. You turned to give Rafael your full attention and you were not prepared. Rafael was in a full dark blue suit, with a silver tie and vest to complete the look, his hair was perfectly styled. He was in his element and he was even more attractive for it.

“Hey,” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so breathy but this man just kept knocking you for four. An image of you running your fingers through his hair, messing it up as you finally got him to let that fire you had seen a few times in his eyes loose ran through your head, causing your cheeks to heat.

“Hello you,” he grinned taking a closer step to you, his hand raising but stopping before touching you, a question in his eyes. You stepped closer, moving so his hand was sitting on your waist and tilted your head a little looking up at him from under your lashes, he squeezed your hip gently as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “Come inside.”

His hand moved from your hip to the small of your back as he lead you into his office, closing the door behind you. Your eyes widened a little at it, his desk sat in between two windows with a bookshelf filled with fancy looking books behind it. It was covered with folders, papers and books. There were several other windows along the wall opposite the entrance letting in plenty of natural light. The office was neat and tidy. Rafael led you to a couch just inside the door with a coffee table in-front of it, and laying on it was a dozen yellow daffodils. You stopped just short of the table, mouth opened in a small ‘o’, as you turned to look at Rafael as he took your lunch tote from your hand, placing it on the table to pick up the flowers.

“For you,” he smiled a little shy. “I know you said you were fine with having lunch here but regardless.”

“Rafael, they’re lovely,” you took the flowers from him, stepping close to place a kiss on his cheek before smelling them. “Thank you.”

“Only the loveliest for you,” he said, a flood of heat hit your cheeks at that. The two of you sat close on the couch as you placed the flowers back on the coffee table.

“I made a chicken pasta salad, I hope that’s okay?” you asked starting to pull out the containers and some forks, as well as some drinks. “I also picked up some lemonade.”

“That’s perfect,” he grinned picking up the container you placed in-front of him smelling the food. “Smells delicious. Thank you for making this.”

“It’s not a problem, I enjoy cooking for people,” you told him taking a bite. The creamy sauce perfectly balanced against the seasoning you had used on the chicken. “Especially people who gift me with a…distractingly gorgeous photo the night before.” You hadn’t noticed that Rafael had taken a bite of food until he coughed before taking a mouthful of lemonade. “Sorry.”

“You don’t sound it, chica,” Rafael coughed. You finally looked at him but couldn’t tell if the red in his cheeks was from inhaling his food or your comment. “Distractingly gorgeous?”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Almost dropped my phone.”

“Sorry,” Rafael shrugged.

“Sound so sincere counsellor,” you laughed nudging him with your shoulder before slumping back against the couch, grinning at Rafael as he looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes roamed over you taking in how comfortable you looked in his office. You had taken your jacket off and placed it on the coat rack without prompting. He followed your example and sat back, the side of his body pressed tightly against yours. The warmth from him sent a curl of pleasure through you, settling just behind your stomach.

“I take it you saved it?” Rafael asked after eating a few mouthfuls.

“Oh quicker than you could blink,” you admitted, you decided to be even more open and honest than you normally would. Rafael deserved it after all the open honesty he had shown you. “It was very distracting. To be honest, I hoped you would tell me lunch would have to be here.”

“Really?” Rafael asked, eyebrow raised. You watched him eat for a few moments, taking a little pride in the look of satisfaction on his face as he enjoyed your meal. You waited for him to swallow his next bite before answering, not wanting to cause him to choke again.

“Yep,” you popped the ‘p’. “Because, I didn’t want to bring the photo up over text and…I was hoping for another kiss…”you trailed off as Rafael froze with a forkful of chicken and pasta half way to his mouth. He sat forward on the couch putting the container down and took a drink from his lemonade, before he turned to face you still sitting forward. He reached to take your container from your hands, both mostly empty of the meal. He took hold of your hands, bringing them to his mouth to trail kisses down your fingers and across your palms, he stopped to mouth at your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. A fire starting to burn in those green orbs. The heat inside you started to build, the warmth flooding your veins.

“Another kiss?” he smirked. “And you wanted that to specifically happen in my office because?”

“You really need to ask that?” you replied, pointedly looking at where he was still lacing your wrist with kisses. He removed his mouth from your wrist, lips curling at the edges.

“You want a little more then the first time?” he continued to tease. Your breath had kicked up a notch, you can’t remember the last time something so little as kisses on your wrist and a look had you so worked up. You nodded, unable to get your voice to work. Rafael tsked as he reached out to cup your cheek, one of your hands still trapped in his. “Words, Amor. I need you to use your words.”

“Yes,” you whispered, pleasure curling to a throb in your pussy, his voice was soft and gentle, but still a little dominant. A perfect combination. “I want a kiss that would be indecent in public.”

“Your wish is my command,” he growled leaning close to you.

His hand moved from your cheek to rest on the side of your throat, his thumb stretched enough to tilt your head up. The hand still holding yours placed your hand on his shoulder, freeing his hand to hold your waist. You wrapped both your arms around his shoulders drawing him closer with an impatient whine when he just hovered above you. Rafael grinned for a second before he claimed your lips. The angel was a little awkward, given that he was still a little forward on the couch not wanting to overcrowd you. The kiss was definitely more passionate then the first, the hand on your waist squeezed in time with the little noises he pulled from you as he alternated between kisses and little nips to your bottom lip. He ran his tongue along yours, asking for permission without breaking away from you. You grinned into the kiss as you parted your lips, a moan pulled from the both of you the kiss deepened. You wanted more. You surged forward, trying not to break the kiss, your hand coming up to run through his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He allowed his body to fall back against the couch pulling you with him, you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him

“Rafael,” you moaned as he broke the kiss. His hands trailed up and down your back as he started to kiss along your jaw, being careful not to leave any marks. You tilted your head to the side giving him more access to your neck as he started kissing down it until he got to the collar of your sweater where he started kissing along the skin just above the collar and back up your neck nipping briefly at your ear lobe. You pulled at his hair drawing his mouth away from your neck, you crashed your lips back to his, the passion and heat building as Rafael slipped a hand under your sweater and the other moved down to squeeze at your ass. You ground down in his lap, pulling a rough groan from his chest before he pulled away staring up at you.

“Chica, I still have meetings after this lunch,” he chuckled. “I have to look presentable.”

“Such a shame counsellor, I’m sure you can calm down but your hair might be a little harder to fix,” you grinned kissing him on the nose as you tried to fix the mess you had made of his hair.

“Hm, not so sure I can, what with you so nicely perched on my lap like this,” his voice was husky filled with lust to match his black blown eyes. But there was a soft look in them as his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheeks, before he moved to nuzzle his nose against yours. His hands sliding down to hold your hips, as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“It would appear we are at an impasse,” you giggled as you smoothed your hands down his chest. “I also need to tell you something.” You pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You look very handsome today.” You leant your forehead against his. “And I have greatly been enjoying each time we meet. And each time we message. Yesterday when I sent you that message I didn’t even think about it, I just knew that I wanted to share my excitement.”

“Amor,” Rafael whispered, his eyes staring up at you in wonder at your statement. “I have found myself looking forward to hearing from you. To finding a reason to message you, and find a way to be able to see you.”

You grinned down at him, your whole body warm from the happiness that surge through you. You had hoped that you weren’t alone in how you felt, and to hear him say it, it made you insanely happy. You pressed your lips to his again, over and over, giggling a little as Rafael’s hands tightened on your hips. You felt his lips curl into a smile against yours as you slowed the kisses down, claiming his lips in a slow sensual dance. His hands moved to run up and down your thighs, causing a shiver to move through you, as they grabbed at you.

“Rafi,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his jaw before running your nose along his jaw nuzzling into him. “I’m-” you were interrupted by a nock on the door.

“Mr Barba,” Carmen’s voice called through the closed door. “You’re next appointment is here.” The two of you pulled apart, a look of shock on both your faces.

“Give me five minutes Carmen,” Rafael answered his hands back on your hips as he gently nudged you back. “Sorry, Chica, times up.”

“Pity,” you pouted but moved off of him, straightening your sweater before you started packing up the lunch you brought him. His arms wrapped around your waist, lips pressing a sweet kiss to your neck as he squeezed you close.

“I’ll message you as I can throughout the day,” he promised as you turned in his arms.

“Hmm, that’s sweet,” you smiled at him. “I’ll take what I can, but I understand how busy you are.”

“You are already too good to me,” he released you to try and fix his own appearance, sending you a wink as he flattened his hair. You took your jacket back folding it over an arm that held the flowers, your tote bag hanging in the crook on your elbow, as Rafael walked you to the door, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Real soon,” you agreed. “Don’t work yourself to hard, Rafi.” You squeezed his hand before he opened the door.

You walked out with him on your heels, you could feel his eyes following you as you past by a large man in a suit who was holding a briefcase. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket as you left the building. The flowers continuously drawing your eyes, the warmth of happiness never leaving you.

‘You still need to tell me all about your theme at the library, Chica, I hope I will be able to arrange a time where we can have dinner again.’

You grinned all the way back to the library, you needed to speak with Lily. You were tossing around the idea of asking him over to your apartment for dinner. Wondering if maybe it was too early to ask if he wanted to stay the night but if your little make out session was anything to go by it wasn’t.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first. 

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new. 

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook. 

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods. 

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.” 

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more. 

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?” 

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.” 

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless. 

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.” 

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings. 

“Pretty,” you say.  

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.” 

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.  

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?” 

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head. 

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?” 

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book. 

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking. 

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence. 

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter. 

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins. 

“Maybe.” 

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence. 

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.” 

“Oh,” you bat your eyes. 

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.” 

“I... went for a walk.” 

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead. 

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.” 

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture. 

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?” 

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?” 

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you. 

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.” 

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.  

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both. 

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.” 

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table. 

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.” 

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze. 

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him. 

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.  

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass. 

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...” 

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown. 

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her. 

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...” 

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further. 

“Maybe... I’m not that good.” 

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.” 

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid. 

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing? 

You croak, “okay.” 

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight. 

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.” 

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh. 

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.” 

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory. 

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.” 

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it. 

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed. 

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors. 

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.” 

[justarandomreaderxoxo]

Shadows of the Heart: Chapter 1

Word count: 3123

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 24

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: Violence, Drugs (Mentioned), Alcohol

A/n: Sorry for the couple hours of delay in uploading guys, i was obsessing over refining this before posting. You also may notice many grammer error. So, forgive me please as i am not a native english speaker. Also if missed any warnings please let me know as well as if you wanna be tagged in future updates. Enjoy!!!

When you get a tip that your rivals are trying to smuggle drugs in YOUR CITY, where you do not only not deal the drugs but also strongly, very strongly discourage anyone who tries to, you got to do something about it. Lucky for you, the tip included location of their consignment which was unfortunately a moving van.

So now you are on the mission to hunt down the perps using the consignment. You sit in your car, parked just far enough from the cafe to go unnoticed. The neon glow from its signage casts streaks of colour across your windshield as you narrow your gaze at the nondescript white van idling across the street. You know that van’s make and plate by heart now—one of the many moves by the Black Hand, a rival gang brazen enough to test the borders you’ve drawn. They’ve been inching into your territory for weeks, pushing product onto your streets. But tonight, you plan to send them a message.

The van hasn’t budged in twenty minutes. You lean back in your seat, fingers gloved and relaxed around the steering wheel, eyes locked between the van and the cafe entrance. Your informant tipped you off about a possible drop-off around midnight, but so far, there’s no movement. You exhale, feeling your pulse settle as you slip into the familiar rhythm of focus, watching, waiting.

Then, movement. A figure approaches the van from a side alley, pulls up his hoodie, and darts a glance around. Your senses sharpen as he taps on the driver’s window, mutters a few words to the man inside, and waits. You tense, taking in every detail, assessing your options. Now would be the time to make your move, to intercept him before he can go any further. But you’re not about to jump the gun; you need them with product in hand—ironclad proof.

The man steps away, scanning the street and even glancing toward the cafe as if considering his next move. Your brow furrows. The Black Hand’s drops are predictable, but this cafe is unfamiliar territory. It’s either a random choice or a cover—a test to see if you’ll take the bait.

You reach for your phone, ready to signal your backup waiting nearby, when a faint chime catches your attention. The cafe door swings open. You look over, expecting just another late-night customer, but a woman steps outside, glancing toward the van with a curious expression.

You frown, assessing the potential risk. An innocent bystander complicating things is the last thing you need. Calm but decisive, you slip out of your car, moving toward the cafe with purpose, your eyes darting between the woman and the van, where the dealer still hovers.

Your mere presence is enough to make him falter. He catches sight of you, nerves etched in his face, before retreating to the safety of the van. Satisfaction flickers through you as they pull away from the curb. No words were needed; your reputation alone was enough to interrupt.

Now putting on your backup to follow the van, you decide to take a breather in the café from where the woman came from. It looked cozy enough to breathe for a few minutes.

The bell above the door chimes softly as you step into the warm, inviting atmosphere of the cafe. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods fills the air, momentarily pulling your thoughts away from the weight of the mission that brought you here. You glance around, taking in the cozy decor and the gentle hum of conversations from patrons savouring their afternoon.

Then your gaze lands on the counter, and the rest of the room blurs into the background. There she stands—a beautiful woman, commanding yet effortlessly charming as she chats with a customer. Your heart flutters, and you catch your breath, feeling an unexpected thrill. Something about her presence draws you in, an invisible thread that makes your pulse quicken.

You gather yourself, steadying your thoughts as you approach the counter. Your eyes settle on the name tag pinned to her apron: “Wanda.”

“I’ll have a cappuccino, please,” you say, managing to keep your voice calm.

Wanda looks up, her eyes meeting yours with a warmth that feels unexpectedly personal. “Coming right up! Do you come here often?” she asks, her tone friendly and inviting.

“Not until today. I was… just passing through,” you reply, hoping your smile is as relaxed as hers. Leaning slightly against the counter, you feel compelled to ask, “What’s your secret? How do you make this place feel so… welcoming?”

She chuckles softly, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. “It’s all about the people. Everyone who walks through that door has their own story, and I just try to create a space where they feel at home.”

You’re captivated, not just by Wanda’s beauty but by her passion. “Well, you certainly succeed. It feels like a little oasis in the middle of all the chaos,” you say, your gaze lingering on her smile.

As she prepares your drink, you sense that this encounter is more than a simple coffee order. Maybe it’s the mission that’s led you here, or maybe it’s something entirely different. There’s a connection forming, one that feels powerful, as though it could lead to something life changing.

“Here you go,” she says, placing the cappuccino in front of you. “On the house for my new favourite customer.”

Your heart skips again, and you grin.

“Are you sure you want to be giving away free coffee? I might just become a regular.”

“Then I’d be glad to have you here,” she replies, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Just promise you’ll share your story next time.”

You chuckle, feeling warmth spread through you. “Deal. I will be back, Wanda.”

As you turn to leave, you cannot resist glancing back one last time, meeting her gaze. And in that moment, you know—this is the start of something significant, something that could change everything.

After successfully taking care of The Black Hand, which took a few days, in which you can’t stop thinking about the shy cute barista you met. So, you decided to just fuck it and go meet her now. That’s why you are here now at a not really a café hour standing outside her café.

The streetlights cast a soft glow over the quiet street as you hurry toward Wanda's cafe. You can see the lights are dimmed inside, and your heart sinks at the thought of missing her again. Since your last meeting, you’ve found yourself thinking about the beautiful barista more often than you care to admit.

As you reach the door, you notice it’s slightly ajar. Taking a breath, you push it open, the familiar chime of the bell echoing in the near-empty space. The cafe is almost dark, with only a few flickering candles on the tables and the warm glow from the kitchen lights illuminating the back.

Wanda is wiping down the counter, her focus on her work, unaware of your presence. A few moments pass before she notices you standing there. “Oh, hey there,” she says, looking up with a gentle smile that shifts quickly to a look of surprise.

“Sorry I’m late!” you say, stepping closer, your heart racing. “I didn’t realize you were closing up.”

For a heartbeat, Wanda is silent, her expression unreadable.

You hesitate, feeling the weight of your words. “I hope you don’t mind me barging in like this,” you add sincerely. “I just had to come back. Do you remember me? I was here a few days ago.”

Wanda’s eyes brighten at the mention of your last visit. “Of course, I remember you. It’s not every day I give away free coffee.” A faint blush warms her cheeks, and her gaze dips toward the counter.

A rush of warmth floods through you at her words. “Really? I was worried you might forget about me.”

“Not a chance,” Wanda replies, her tone playful. “I was actually hoping you would return.”

Your heart skips at her admission. “Then I guess I’m lucky,” you say, stepping closer, sensing the spark in the air. “So, what were you hoping I’d come back for?”

Wanda’s expression softens as she meets your gaze. “To share stories, maybe. I’d love to know more about you.”

You nod, feeling both curious and amused. “Well, there’s plenty to tell. I’m involved in… let’s say, interesting work.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting work? Do tell.”

“I run a couple of businesses, it’s complicated.” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I can tell you it doesn’t involve making coffee.”

“Pity,” she teases, stepping out from behind the counter and gesturing to a nearby table. “Why don’t we sit? I’d love to hear all about it over some of my best pastries. I can’t let you leave empty-handed.”

As you settle into the cozy warmth of the cafe, you feel a surprising sense of calm. This is more than just a chance encounter; it’s an opportunity to connect with someone who stirs something in you that you hadn’t expected.

You exchange stories, laughter filling the quiet space as time slips by, both of you savouring the easy joy of each other’s company. As the last customers trickle out and the cafe grows even dimmer, you realize you’ve found more than just a break from your chaotic life—you’ve found a connection that feels electric.

After leaving Wanda’s you thought to get a drink before going to sleep, knowing the excitement of time spent with Wanda won’t let sleep come that easy. And come on who could blame you, it's Wanda we are talking about. With all the shit you see every day, Wanda was a nice, warm ray of sunshine in your world of shadows. You didn’t even notice when time passed when you were talking with Wanda. It felt so natural like you two were some long-lost friends who just picked up where they left things.

So, to get the said drink you go to your dad’s bar knowing it’s well past the last call. Shield was a really exclusive bar. You needed to know the right people to get in. It was also a neutral ground for all the families, not that many were left after your father combined the most prominent ones and formed The Avengers. A crime syndicate whom everyone feared.

At the centre of the said syndicate was You, the young firecracker. People who knew the name Y/N Fury knew to fear it too, everyone knew you were ruthless. But what most didn’t know is that you were also truly kind and compassionate. You weren’t just there because Nick Fury adopted you, you made that clear that you deserve to be there with your charm and your brilliance in business. But enough about you, everyone knows you’re awesome.👑

The city outside is quiet, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights as you step into Shield. The bar is dimly lit, its usual buzz replaced by a peaceful stillness; it’s open only for Avengers tonight, even after hours. It’s exactly what you hoped for -a quiet moment to savour the evening after your delightful second encounter with Wanda.

You make your way to the bar, still carrying a spark of excitement. A permanent smile lingers on your lips, a trace of the warmth Wanda stirred within you. The night air seems to hum with the thrill you feel, and you can barely contain it.

“Just a quiet nightcap,” you murmur to yourself, slipping behind the bar where you know you're allowed. With practiced ease, you pour yourself a glass of whiskey, watching the amber liquid catch the low light.

Leaning back, you take a slow sip, letting the rich warmth spread as you sink into your thoughts of Wanda. You savour a blissful contentment, letting the usual worries of your life slip away, if only for a while.

From the shadows in a corner booth, two familiar figures—Yelena and Natasha—watch you, their eyes glimmering with shared amusement. They exchange a glance, clearly entertained by the blissful look on your face.

“Look at her,” Yelena whispers, nudging Natasha with a grin. “She’s like a giddy schoolgirl.”

Natasha chuckles, her eyes bright with sisterly mischief. “Oh, she’s definitely smitten.”

Lost in your thoughts, you take another sip, oblivious to the two pairs of eyes studying you from across the room. A contented sigh escapes you, and your smile doesn’t falter.

“Should we go tease her?” Yelena suggests, barely containing her laughter.

“Absolutely,” Natasha replies with a grin. “It’d be criminal to let this pass.”

They slide off their booth and make their way over, their footsteps quiet as they approach. Yelena clears her throat dramatically, and you blink out of your reverie, startled as you spot them in front of you.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our little Fury,” Yelena teases, leaning against the bar with a grin.

You laugh, surprised and delighted to see them. “You two scared me! I didn’t think anyone else would be here. And I am at least older than you Yel-bear.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a smirk. “And here you are, grinning like you’ve just hit the jackpot. What’s got you so happy? A new mission? Or maybe… something else?”

You chuckle, feeling warmth spread to your cheeks. “Maybe a bit of both. I just had… a really good evening.”

Yelena leans in, a playful gleam in her eye. “With someone special, maybe?”

You pause, your smile turning coy. “Maybe,” you admit, still savouring the memory. “There’s someone.”

Natasha and Yelena exchange a look, their teasing softened by genuine warmth. Natasha’s smirk softens, and she says, “Looks like someone’s in deep.”

“Oh, shut up!” You swat at them playfully, your laughter filling the empty bar.

Yelena chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “We’re only looking out for you. If someone makes you this giddy, they must be worth it.”

A wave of gratitude fills you, and you lean against Yelena’s shoulder, feeling the comfort of her embrace. “Thanks, you two. It means a lot.” You glance up at them, feeling the bond you share—the connection forged through battles and triumphs—wrap around you like a safety net.

Natasha’s gaze softens as she looks at you, a mix of pride and protectiveness in her eyes. “We’ve always got your back. Anyone who makes you feel like this has got to be special.”

Yelena nudges you playfully. “Just remember, if she hurts you, we’ll take care of it. You’ve got the best bodyguards a sister could ask for.”

You giggle, letting the joy of the moment sweep over you. “I know you would. I couldn’t ask for better sisters.”

The three of you settle in together, the quiet of the bar now filled with laughter, the warmth of camaraderie mingling perfectly with the whiskey in your glass. Surrounded by the two of the three people who know you best, you feel at home in a way you rarely do. Tonight, the world is small, warm, and perfect. And as the hours drift by, the bonds of sisterhood grow even stronger, leaving you smiling at the thought of the mysterious woman who sparked a new joy in your life.

Pietro was on his way to check up on Wanda that same night you both met. But as he got near to her café, he could see her talking and laughing with you over her pastries. He also notices how her eyes lingered on you a second too longer sometimes. Ultimately, he decides to leave, he is not a menace. He will just tease her later about it.

The morning sun hadn’t quite risen over the city, and Wanda was already busy in the cafe kitchen, kneading dough for the day’s first batch of pastries. The rhythmic motions of her hands and the comforting warmth of the oven filled the room as she lost herself in her morning routine. The door swung open, and in walked Pietro, looking far too awake for the hour, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Dobroye utro, sestra,” he greeted, his voice filled with teasing warmth. “Already hard at work, or are you just distracting yourself?”

Wanda looked up, wiping flour off her hands onto her apron. “Good morning, brat moj. Shouldn’t you be sleeping off last night’s adventures?” She raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden appearance.

“Ah, but how could I sleep,” he sighed dramatically, leaning against the counter, “when I saw my mila sestra sharing her cafe with someone after closing hours?” Pietro’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Now who might that be?”

Wanda felt her cheeks grow warm. She turned back to her work, forcing a casual shrug. “Oh, dosta, Pietro. She’s just a customer. She was friendly, that’s all.”

“Samo prijateljica, hmm?” Pietro raised an eyebrow, pressing on. “Well, most ‘just customers’ don’t get private late-night talks.” He smirked, crossing his arms as he watched her. “You looked… well, a little smitten.”

“Stop it,” she muttered, rolling her eyes but unable to hide a small, sheepish smile. “Not every friendly face means something, you know?”

Pietro moved closer, playfully poking her shoulder. “Ne lazi, Wanda. I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since… ever.” His teasing softened slightly. His tone more serious. “Come on, moya sestra, you can tell me. She seemed important.”

“She’s…” Wanda paused, caught between wanting to share and keeping it all to herself. “She’s just different, that’s all. She listens.”

“Listens?” Pietro raised a brow. “It’s been two days, and already she’s got you all… like this. Look at you, smiling like lovesick puppy!”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, swatting him away with a light smack on the arm. “Stop! She’s a friend, dobro? Someone who’s interesting, that’s all.”

Pietro leaned in, whispering with a grin, “You don’t give free coffee to just any ‘interesting’ person, moya sestra.”

She shook her head, feigning exasperation but smiling despite herself. “Fine. Maybe she’s a little more interesting than others,” she admitted. “But only a little.”

“Oh, I know” he said with a grin, crossing his heart. “I won’t say a word.” He winked and headed for the door, calling back, “Remember, you can’t hide anything from me, moya mila!”

Wanda laughed softly, shaking her head as he left. She couldn’t deny it, Pietro had a point. And as she went back to her work, the thought of seeing you again brought a warmth to her smile that even her brother’s teasing couldn’t chase away.