#like they don't make me feel like anything while he him and she her are more like yes:3333

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

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Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 

“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 

And here we go. 

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[mywritersmind]

pookieeee how are youuu 💗 I'm in NEED of a Franco fic where the reader is João Félix's little sister...

So she obvi speaks Portuguese and English (maybe some Italian in there too) butttt unlike her brother her Spanish is rusty. So when reader drags her brother (and of course some of the guys from the team) to support her best friend at a race, he's listening in to every little comment Franco makes about her in Spanish and trying to subtly give hints to reader that he likes her, and of course some good brother teasing! Just hardcore fluff, friend pining and good old family banter!

HE CAN UNDERSTAND - FC43

listen up : i used google translate don’t come for me. not proofread! super cute and fluffy! loved this request sorry if i didng execute it well😭

word count : 2281

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Franco!” I jump into my best friends arms as he laughs. The moment I asked for three Grand Prix tickets, he sent them over immediately and went on a rant of how excited he was to see me.

“Y/n!” He grins widely at me, “I’m so happy you’re here!” He's in his race suit, his hair messy and extra wavy. I run my hand through it, fixing it a bit.

“You’re a mess.” I laugh as he pushes my hand away and rolls his eyes, “Oh!” I suddenly remember that my brother is standing behind me. “This is my brother, João! I can’t believe you two haven’t met!” I smile at both of them as my brother shakes Franco’s hand.

Oddly professional for someone he knows I love. “Nice to finally meet you. Y/n never shuts up about you.” I slightly blush at his words as Franco lets out a laugh.

“Good to know…” Franco gives us a mini tour. I'm so beyond happy for him. This has been his dream since forever, the first time I met him he even jokingly flirted and said I could be a WAG.

Franco is charming and hilarious so my brother likes him instantly. We end up in the William’s garage, everyone scrambling around and talking in languages I can’t understand.

Since it’s race day, i’m genuinely surprised Franco had the time to see us. Especially since Qualifying was earlier today.

But my best friend works in magical ways.

⋆༺

FRANCO

I watch Y/n talk to Alex’s girlfriend. I watch as her hair flows down her back and her hand covers her mouth as she laughs. “So,” João turns to me, sort of intimidating for his height but so far I think he approves of me. “You’ve known Y/n for a while, huh?”

I nod, “Yeah, she hasn't been able to shake me yet.” He laughs, nodding his head.

“You care about her?” Why do I feel like i’m getting interrogated?

I nod, “Of course. She’s my best friend.”

“I mean as more than a friend.”

I laugh uncomfortably, joking with him, “Are you asking me my intentions?” He does not find this funny. I clear my throat and breathe out, “We’re just friends.”

Y/n comes skipping back over to us. I’ve always been taught to not lie, but i’m not about to confess that I like her to fucking brother.

“J, you’ve got to see his car!” She takes his arm and pulls him away, “You coming, Fran?”

I’m about to follow after them but my engineer taps my shoulder, “Gimmie one second! Don't touch anything, Y/n, I know how you are!”

She gives me one of her signature smiles, making my pulse quicken and my smile falter. I catch her brother giving me an odd look before I sit up and wave.

I turn to my engineer who’s smiling, big, “Dios mío, te estás sonrojando.” (My god, you’re blushing.) I roll my eyes at him, turning to see Y/n point to my car and start asking questions to someone in blue.

“¡Cállate por favor!” (Shut up please!) Her Spanish is more than rusty. I've tried to teach her some but she gets distracted and she always ends up persuading me into something different. Still, it’s weird talking about her when she’s right there.

“Vamos, ¡te gusta! Es la forma en que la miras... como si fuera el sol.” (Come on, you like her! It’s the way you look at her… like she’s the sun.) I push his shoulder at his words. Christ, is it that obvious?

“Actúas como si fuera un cachorrito enamorado.” (You act like i’m some lovesick puppy)

“¡Porque lo eres! Siempre hablas de ella, tu pantalla de bloqueo es ella, ¡siempre le estás enviando mensajes de texto! Admítelo.” (Because you are! You always talk about her, your lock screen is her, you are always texting her! Just admit it.)

I cross my arms at him, not daring to glance back at her. “No voy a arruinar mi relación con ella…” I shake my head and tease him, “¡Ahora vuelve a trabajar!” (I’m not ruining my relationship with her… now get back to work!)

I join Y/n and João again, smiling and doing my duty as a tour guide. João gives me another weird look and i’m hoping it’s not because i’m losing his trust. I know i’m not her boyfriend, but I still want him to like me.

They are soon asked to step into the visitors area as I warm up for the race. Y/n kisses my cheek before she goes, “Good luck, Fran. Be careful!” I know my cheeks are red but all I can focus on is her so close to me, her lips on my cheek.

I nod, “Thank you. Have fun watching.” I wink at her and turn, getting ready.

⋆༺

YOU

“I’m so nervous! It’s so rainy!” I bite my lip as the cars go out on track in a second formation lap. The race hasn’t even started and someone’s already out!

My brother eyes me, he’s been acting weird all day and I hate it. He suddenly turns to me, “You don’t like Franco?”

It catches me off guard, “Uh… of course I do?” He rolls his eyes.

“I mean can you see yourself with him? I think you’d be cute.” I laugh out loud.

“João, when have you ever wanted me to date someone?” Especially Franco. I mean, maybe i’ve thought about it.

Okay maybe I've fantasized about it… a lot.

But what am I supposed to do? Confess to my best friend who’s always been there for me that I think he’s irresistible and criminally hot? No.

“I just think if you’re gonna date anyone… He’s a good option.” My cheeks heat as I shake my head, “You’re blushing! Come on, Y/n, why not?”

“Just shut up, the race is starting!”

The next time he brings it up is at a yellow flag, “He’s definitely nicer than your ex.” I give him a death glare and attempt to tune him out, “And who did you go crying to after he broke your heart….?” Franco. The answer is Franco because he’s always there.

It’s been hard recently because of his races, but he’s constantly texting or calling me. I think he just wants someone to gossip with.

“Again, he’s my friend. Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn’t mean you know everything!”

“No but I know everything about you, and you don’t look at your other friends like that.” I hate that stupid smug smile on his face. And I hate that he’s right.

My stomach drops when Franco goes into the wall. I grab onto my brother's arm who doesn’t look concerned at all and more happy that i’m so worried! I slap his arm, “You have no empathy!”

I cross my arms, biting my lip as I watch him exit the car. Thank god he’s okay.

Franco gives me a small thumbs up when he’s back in the garage. I can tell he’s absolutely gutted, the air is awkward and thick with tension since Franco’s crash meant that the whole team's weekend is over.

The race is long and honestly scary. Still, all I can think about is Franco.

Maybe this weekend, his attention to me, my brothers comments, and how Franco’s been looking at me, has finally sealed what I've been dreading.

I’ve known I like him for a while, but I don’t want to ruin us. I can’t be embarrassed by my closest friend!

I’m not an idiot, I see how he flirts with interviewers or even fans. Part of me wants to believe that’s just his personality, but the other part is screaming at me that he doesn’t like me.

His eyes though, he looks at me so deeply that sometimes I feel like I'm apart of some big trick.

“Hey,” My brother nudges me, “Race is over.” I snap out of whatever daze I was in and nod, “I gotta pee, go talk to Franco!”

When I look to where he points, Franco’s already looking at me. His race suit is unzipped and he looks so tired. “Hi.” He smiles softly but I can tell it’s forced.

“Sorry your first race with me sucked.” He frowns, leaning against the little barrier from the garage and friends and family.

“Hey…” I touch his arm briefly, “It did not suck! And It’s not your fault. It was scary though…”

His eyes look sad and I know it’s not just because he crashed. Franco feels so deeply and this weekend has been especially hard for him. I can tell he sees the worry on my face, “I'm really really happy you’re here. We’re getting dinner later, right?”

I go to the hotel with João first. We change and meet back at the restaurant. “I’m so hungry!” I groan as we sit down, Franco said he would be here soon but I am not above ordering early.

João sits across from me, “Gotta wait for your boyfriend.”

I eye him, “You better not say anything in front of Franco. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” He laughs a bit.

“I really don’t think I will.” He’s so ominous today. “I can tell i’m making you uncomfortable though. My only question is… why?”

“Why?”

“Why can’t you accept that you like him? He’s obviously not going to turn you down. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes when he talks to you.” The waiter brings water which I gulp down immediately.

“I- No! I can’t like him. He’s my friend.”

“So you’ve said… but the best relationships start out that way.” Why is he pushing this so much?

“I just… I don’t want to ruin our relationship.”.

“Funny…” he mumbles something, “That's what he said too.” but I can’t hear him because Franco sits and starts saying hello.

Our dinner is amazing, the food is perfect and I can’t stop laughing at Franco and João. “You’ve gotta come to a match sometime!” My brother laughs, “The team would love you.”

Franco grins, “I would be honored! Y/n always talks about your games, you’re pretty good apparently.” This boosts my brother's ego far too much and we end the night while talking about football and childhood stories.

“He always teased me with his friends!” I roll my eyes at the memory, “They were all learning Spanish in highschool so I never understood them!”

Franco laughs as João shakes his head, “Why didn’t you take spanish in highschool?”

“I did! I just never caught on. Plus João became fluent after school anyway so his schooling barely helped.” I shrug as Franco’s expression turns odd.

He blinks, looking to João, “You’re fluent?”

“Si.” He looks almost smug about it as Franco nods slowly, swallowing.

“Así que escuchaste…” (So you heard…)

“Todo.” (Everything) Franco’s smile drops completely at my brothers words. But my brother still carries on with a smile, “Eres muy obvio, pero lo apoyo.” (You’re very obvious, but I support it.)

I frown at their communication that I can’t understand, “Okay, can you two stop gossiping? I’m ready to leave.” Franco smiles at me, nodding slowly as we stand.

Our walk back to the hotel is short and luckily no fans interrupt it. The warmth of the inside makes me smile and the ding of the elevator makes me yearn for my bed.

“Uh, Y/n?” I look back at Franco as he talks, “Could I speak to you for a moment…” I look at my brother who nods, a smile still on his face as he disappears behind the elevator doors. “Let’s go outside.”

It’s no longer raining so we venture out into the hotel's garden. It’s beautiful with tall plants and trees, a small path that we walk on, and flowers that I've never seen before.

“What did you walk to talk to me about?” I turn to him, he looks oddly scared and a bit chilly. He starts to speak but then closes his mouth and thinks, “Franco…?”

“I like you.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, I freeze, “I really like you and not just as a friend… like way more than that.”

I blink, “You’re kidding?”

The panic on his face is immediate, “No?”

“Shit. Okay!” I realize i’m so caught up in my own world that he probably thinks I don’t like him, “I feel the same.”

He breathes out, stepping closer, “You fucking scared me.”

I smile, not believing this is even real, “You really like me? Because my brother has been making me feel delusional all day!” He takes my hand in his and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“He heard me talking about you in spanish…” I raise a brow, “My engineer was teasing me and I didn’t know he spoke it!” I laugh, shaking my head at his story, “But I'm glad he did. I probably would be sitting in my room all alone if he hadn't.”

I grip his hand tighter, stepping closer, “I’m really glad too. I didn’t want to ruin anything but fuck I really like you.”

He grins and leans in, He paused before I nod. Franco presses a kiss to my lips softly, “I can’t believe you have a crush on me.” I whisper as groans and rolls his eyes, trying to walk away.

“No! No taking it back now!” I laugh, pulling him back to me, my hand going to his neck and my lips meeting his, “You’re stuck with me now.”

[flowerandblood]

Hi, for the ask game you’re making

Glass cuts deepest

🖼️ Museum

🍁 Autumn

💐 Care

🎃 Jealousy

😬 Semi-public sex

🍓 Sexual tension

Congratulations on the milestone 😊!

The Art of Body

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]

[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.

Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]

______

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.

He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.

Women.

The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.

He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.

When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.

He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.

When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.

He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.

"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.

Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.

He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.

"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.

Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.

He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.

He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.

He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.

Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?

He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.

"Let's go." He said finally.

It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.

He felt he could rely on her.

When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.

The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.

His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.

"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.

He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.

He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.

He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.

I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.

He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.

He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.

"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.

He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.

She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.

He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.

"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"

"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."

"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.

What did she mean?

"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.

He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.

He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.

When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.

Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.

He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.

"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.

"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.

He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.

They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.

"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.

"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.

He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.

He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.

He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.

He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.

All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.

The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.

Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.

"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.

The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.

Why hadn't he done this before?

They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.

"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.

"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.

Just a little longer.

[rottenpumpkin13]

may i propose the turks also going to group therapy, they’re seen as more put together than AGSZC but i feel like it’d still be a hot mess

*In the therapist's office*

Reno: While I'm here to support everyone else, I wanna make it clear that I don't need therapy.

Tseng: He can't fall asleep without a body pillow to cuddle, and needs an emotional support item to function in his daily life.

*Reno gets up and walks out of the room, pissed off*

Rude: I don't think I need to be here either.

Tseng: He's simultaneously the body pillow and the emotional support item. They're fiercely co-dependant.

*Rude gets up and walks out of the room*

Cissnei, raising her hand: Uh, I don't think there's anything wrong with me?

Tseng: Cissnei loves her friends too intensely to make up for her lack of family, and recently bought Zack Fair an easy bake oven because she projects her lack of childhood through him and his childlike wonder.

*Cissnei, trembling, gets up and leaves*

Rufus: I don't think I have issues either.

Tseng: Sir, you're sitting on my lap playing with a toy car.

[dookiecurly]

umm the crews reactions to reader making advances on them flirting and whatnot/being touchy with them? hip grabbing, shoulder gripping, just sexual touches that arent TOO sexual but they are definitely suggestive. and lets say for the sake of the headcanons they are somewhat into reader so its not like its harassment. please and thank youuu! also i love ur writing!! take ur time <33

Anon....i... I think thsts sitll harassment......

Curly is confused, might even catch him off guard with this one. If you're on the clock, he will talk a bit of sense into you about responsibility and professionalism. But in a nice and kind way. If you're not on the clock, he'll just kinda... Stare at you with this nervous smile.......... Unless it's not like, super suggestive. A little hand brushing ( hand on hand ) and he'll kinda like, heheehhe they touched my hand im so inlove. But anything else that is just... A little too much, is an awkward laugh, a lecture, or a "can you not.. do that....?" Might not even say anything.

Personally, I don't think Jimmy would like that all, interested or not. He's supposed to do THAT to YOU. Not the other way around. He'll give this nasty look, and maybe say that you're being unprofessional with a very humiliating tone so that you can feel embarrassed and he can get off to it. Win-win. I guess....

Swansea doesn't like it. He's old, and he's dying, and he probably doesn't want someone, whom he isn't in a romantic relationship with, touching him weirdly. Of course, he'd love a good massage once in a while, but you have to ask him. “The hell was that for?” type of guy, or the one that would just stare at you angrily as you feel the shame dropped on your head like an anvil.

Daisuke, ehhhhh....? I can't see a vision for him. I'd say that if it was on the level of ass slapping, he'd be uncomfortable, but if it was like... Casual touches that can also be interpreted as sexual, he'll be kinda fine about it. Maybe he'll do it to you too because he thinks you're joking around and also because he likes getting touched. ( Extra hc, one of his love languages is physical. )

Please, feel ashamed of yourself. Anya would hate it. She simply wouldn't like it. Anya won't say anything, but she'll have a realllllly... Nervous look on her. She's going to tell someone else how you've been touching her weirdly, and she doesn't like you anymore. Or she still does like you and it ends up being like.. “They touched me weirdly... But i like them... But they overstepped my boundaries..."

[solxamber]

First, I would like to say I love your writing! Especially your Trash Villain Chronicles. Thanks to your first one I've been on a Vil kick. I double-checked the rules before typing so hopeful I'm following them. Okay, here goes:

Vil with a partner who's a bit on the heavier side and insecure about it, especially compared to her model boyfriend. Vil finds out about it and quickly reassures her that she is perfect the way she is, and if she's still insecure, he'll help her with whatever she wants to do. Whether it's losing weight or changing her style, anything to make her feel good about herself. Just Vil helping his love feel as beautiful as he thinks she is

I personally see this with a female reader (Hence why I used she/her) but if you do decide you wanna take a crack at this and use a GN reader, then by all means. If you don't wanna do this request, then feel free to ignore it. Just wanted to try. I hope you have a nice day!

Just the Way You Are || Vil Schoenheit

Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.

first of all: thank you so much <3. and thank you for waiting! i made it gn to be more inclusive, and i hope this is what you wanted!

Vil has always found a certain allure in the way you carry yourself—something genuine and warm that shines in a way he rarely sees. But over time, he's noticed the small, telling moments of hesitation.

The way you shy away from reflective surfaces, your reluctance to stand too close to him in photos, the subtle way you pull at your clothes.

He understands insecurity well, but it pains him to see that you’re judging yourself so harshly, especially when he thinks you're so beautiful just as you are.

One day, while sharing lunch, he notices you pushing food around your plate rather than eating. He sets his fork down and gives you a look, his eyes gentle yet discerning. "Darling, are you really going to keep that on the edge of your plate?"

You give a half-hearted smile. "I…just don't want to overdo it," you say, hoping that sounds convincing.

Vil nods thoughtfully, already understanding. He reaches out, covering your hand with his. "If you're feeling uncomfortable about what you eat, would you let me help? Not because I think you need to change, but because I want you to feel at home in your own skin."

You agree, albeit a bit hesitantly, and he instantly takes charge in the way that only Vil can. Crowley’s meager budget often mean you have to settle for low-cost, processed foods, and Vil isn’t about to let that slide.

Over the next week, he starts bringing meals prepared just for you, full of fresh ingredients he’s carefully chosen and even sourced himself.

One afternoon, he surprises you with a gorgeous spread for lunch. It’s a rainbow of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins, arranged as beautifully as any of his fashion editorials.

"Proper food is like proper skincare," he explains as he plates your meal with a flourish. "Only the best for you."

You find yourself looking forward to meals more than you ever thought you would. He teaches you little tricks, too—how to pick satisfying ingredients on a budget, small ways to prepare them to bring out their natural flavors.

Every meal feels like an act of love, a reminder that someone thinks you're worth the care you didn’t always give yourself.

After a couple of weeks, you feel the difference—not just in your energy but in your confidence. Vil notices this too, smiling proudly every time you finish your meals, delighted with the way you’re nourishing yourself.

He never pushes; he’s simply there to support you every step of the way, showing you that your health and happiness matter to him more than anything.

One evening, Vil finds you sighing at your reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit. You’re wearing a simple outfit, but you can't help but feel that it doesn't quite fit the way you’d like, especially next to someone as effortlessly poised as Vil.

Sensing your discomfort, Vil walks up beside you and slips an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re beautiful as you are,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But if you don’t feel it, then let's change that. Why don’t we make a day of it and find you some outfits that help you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”

The next day, Vil takes you shopping, his eye for detail guiding every choice. He’s quick to dismiss outfits that don’t fit right, brushing off any hints of self-consciousness by focusing on each piece’s color, fabric, and shape as though they’re variables in an equation only he understands.

“Fit is everything,” he tells you, holding up a jacket. “It’s about finding clothes that celebrate who you are, not cover it up.”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and as you try on different outfits, you start to see yourself in a new light. Vil’s commentary—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—always steers you toward the right choices, outfits that make you feel vibrant and confident.

At one point, he finds a tailored coat with intricate details on the sleeves, something understated yet regal. “This,” he declares, draping it over your shoulders.

You glance at yourself, surprised at how the cut flatters you, and for the first time, you feel like your outside finally matches the confidence you’re building on the inside.

By the time you leave the store, you’re carrying a few new pieces that you actually feel excited to wear, and Vil’s heart swells every time he sees you trying them out.

His pride in you is palpable, his compliments genuine and warm. "It’s all about loving who you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it’s a privilege to see you start doing just that.”

One night, as the two of you sit together on the dorm balcony, Vil looks at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. "I hope you’re beginning to see how wonderful you are," he says softly, his hand holding yours. "Not because of anything you’ve done to change, but because you’re worth it. You always were."

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you as you squeeze his hand back. And as you lean against him, content, you finally start to believe that, maybe, Vil is right.

Masterlist

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 25

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: it's time for a training montage! minor injury, guns briefly mentioned

wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

“I can’t believe we’re doing this…” Jason grumbled softly, starting his bike.

“I told you; you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Bruce said he'd send a car for me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, gently squeezing.

“Absolutely not. If you’re joining Thursday training sessions, I’m going with you.” We flew down the street, Jason’s voice continuing in the speaker in my helmet; “I just don’t understand why you want to do this at all…”

“Training with more people will give me a more well-rounded experience. And while you are a very good teacher, you’re also my boyfriend. Somehow I feel like Bruce will be a harsher critic of my abilities.”

“And that’s a good thing??” He took a sharp turn toward the wealthy side of town.

“When we’re talking about possible life and death situations, yes. And I don’t really want you to have to be harsh with me, so why don’t we make that Bruce’s responsibility, since that relationship is already tense anyway?”

Jason sighed softly, gently squeezing my hands. “... I guess. … He can be a … tough teacher though. If he’s too hard on you, you don’t have to take it.”

“I know, baby. And he knows I’m not looking to be added to the patrol schedule, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Jason grumbled more, but continued driving to Wayne Manor. We parked in a large garage, and he led me to an elevator. After pressing several buttons we were headed down to the Batcave, where the entire Wayne family met us.

Damian spied us first, walking over. “Sister?”

“Hey kiddo! You gonna help train me?” I grinned, holding my hand out to him. He hesitantly squeezed my hand once, dropping it quickly.

“... I thought Father was attempting to make a joke when he said you were joining our training sessions…” he frowned deeply.

“Nope, no joke. … Is that a problem?” I raised an eyebrow.

“... I suppose not. … You will spar with me.” He gestured for me to follow him toward some mats.

Jason cried after us; “hey! Be gentle, demon brat. She's still new to this stuff.”

“I am not a fool, Todd. I am not expecting her to be a black belt.” Damian nodded; “stretches first.”

I took a seat and pulled my shoes off before stepping onto the mat, doing our usual pre-workout stretches. Eventually Bruce came over, watching us with vague interest on his face. “Alright, let's see what we have to work with.”

I nodded, and Damian and I put on some padding. We bowed to each other, and began. He started out slowly, letting me get in the flow of things. The others watched, periodically calling out instructions and encouragements. After a while I caught a glimpse of Jason in the corner of my eye, chewing on his lip, and Damian took that moment to sweep my leg out from under me.

“Oof!” I grunted softly as I landed on my back, blinking a bit.

“Don't get distracted. Your opponent will use that moment to their advantage.”

I nodded, accepting Damian's offered hand to get back up. “Go again?”

He nodded, and we went again, and again, and again. Every time, I ended up on my back, and he had another note for me. “Don't watch my face, watch my shoulders.” “If you aren't willing to hurt me, you will never win.” “Follow through, or none of this will matter.” “Focus on your footing; you're off balance.” “Breath with your attacks.”

Eventually, Jason stepped forward. “That's enough, take five.”

I nodded, letting him help me up, and bowed to Damian again. “Thanks for training me, Damian.”

He nodded, smiling a little, and bowed back. “You're not entirely hopeless, considering you're a civilian. If you take this seriously, you'll be a proper martial artist in no time.”

I grinned, nodding, and Jason led me to the side, getting me some water. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, baby! Damian is an excellent sparring partner.”

He frowned a bit, massaging my shoulders. “I dunno, some of those throws were unnecessarily rough…”

“Jace, do you think the next mugger I run into is going to be more gentle with me than that?”

He sighed, kissing my neck. “... No. … I just don't like watching you get knocked around.”

“I know, you're so protective of me~ it's sweet, but we gotta power through this part so I can get good.”

He sighed, holding me close. We watched the others pair up for more intensive sparring practices, and Bruce came over. “You did well out there. I want you to work on your balance for a while, Jason can walk you through that. And you should do at least an hour a day of simple exercises; stretching, strength training, and balance training.”

I nodded. “Got it. Thanks Bruce…”

He nodded, pointing out the equipment he recommended I use today, and went back to observing the others. Jason eventually led me over to the equipment, and we started working on my balance.

After weeks of gym days with Jason and BatFam training sessions, I really expected to see myself slimming down a bit. But when I looked in the mirror, I was still soft and curvy. My arm and leg muscles were more pronounced, and I was certain my core muscles were getting stronger too, but my tummy was still round and squishy. It didn't bother me, and Jason seemed rather pleased to not be losing my softness; he tended to nuzzle against my chest and stomach at night, like a big cuddly teddy bear.

Seeing my training progress wasn't making him any less protective either; every time I stepped onto the mat with one of his siblings I could hear him growling at them. It didn't deter Damian, or the girls, but Dick and Tim were particularly hesitant to give me a proper training session. They mostly stuck to helping me with warm ups, and shouting suggestions from the sidelines.

All of the bats were master martial artists, but each had their own preferred fighting styles. Damian taught me to fake out my opponent, and had a proclivity for taking out the leg. Stephanie preferred to mix up her fighting style, keeping her opponents off guard. Cass taught me to anticipate an opponent's moves, watching for the slightest movements that might tell me how to take them down. When Dick and I sparred, he mostly stuck to the basics, not wanting to risk injuring me in front of Jason. Tim mostly helped me work on my blocks and defensive strategy. Bruce stuck to observing and instructing, never actually entering the ring with me. And with the lot of them training me in various martial arts, Jason turned our gym days into gym-and-range days; we would do some stretches and basic core-building, and then we went to the shooting range to work on my aim.

One day before training, Damian had me kneel. Once I was on my knees, he held out a yellow sash with little black bats on it, saying something in a language I didn't know.

I took it, smiling softly; “what's this?”

“Your yellow bat-belt. You've leveled up in your training. Put it on.”

I grinned, nodding, and tied it around my waist; “yes, Sensei.”

Damian smiled at that, nodding once. Once he was happy with how the belt was tied, he led me to the mats for our sparring session. Tim snorted softly, watching from the side.

“What's with the belt? You know the mish-mash of martial arts she's learning wouldn't count at a proper school, right?”

Damian glowered at him; “she has leveled up in the School of the Bat. That is what matters here.”

“Well how come the rest of us don't get bat-belts then?” Tim smirked a bit; “you gotta make them for everyone, Damian!”

“You would not like a physical indicator of what level I deem you to be at, Drake.” Damian smirked at his indignant noises, and turned to me. We bowed and started our sparring session.

In our fourth spar of the day, I landed my first ever hit. One second Damian was in front of me, fists up, and the next he was sprawled out on the floor in front of me, looking up at me in shock.

“Oh my god, Damian! Are you ok??” I fell to my knees next to him as he sat up slowly.

“... I'm fine. … Well done, sister.” He smirked a bit; “now do it again.”

I could hear the smirk in Jason's voice as he called out; “way to go, babe! Kick the demon brat's ass!”

“Language.” Bruce frowned at him, and I helped Damian up.

“Sorry, B. Let's try that again,” he cleared his throat, putting on the most happy-go-lucky voice he could manage; “holy guacamole, bat-babe! Gee golly, can ya do it again, pretty girl?” 

Dick wrinkled his nose, groaning softly. “Dear god, I forgot you used to talk like that. Never do that again.”

“Agreed.” I laughed softly, sticking my tongue out at him; “that was horrible!”

He chuckled, winking at me. Damian frowned, snapping at us; “Enough! No flirting during training! Sister, let's go again.”

My head was ringing. Hands grabbed me, and I was carefully brought into a seated position. I blinked slowly, touching the back of my head gently. No blood. That was good…

“-idn't mean to! Fuck!”

“Well you did! So back off, Grayson!” Damian spoke sharply next to me. His small hands held the sides of my face, making me look at him; “... No dilation, that's good.”

I blinked slowly, frowning. “Wha- … what happened?”

Jason held me against his chest, frowning deeply. “You don't remember, baby?”

I started to shake my head, but the pounding in my head put a stop to that. “Ohhh fuck … ow…”

“Shit …” Dick whined softly from somewhere behind Damian. “Shit, I … I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to!”

“Dick, just shut up.” Jason growled, holding me closer. He carefully lifted me, holding me against his chest as he carried me toward a long bench.

“She's probably got a concussion. Don't let her sleep.” Tim frowned, bringing an ice pack.

Jason took it, carefully pressing it to my head. “Yeah, no shit…”

“What happened?”

“Dick threw you off the mat.” Jason growled softly, holding me close. “You're done for the day. Time to rest.”

“Ugh… ok. … Rest sounds good…” I frowned, closing my eyes.

Dick hesitantly mumbled my name; “I'm so sorry!”

“It's all good, Dick. I'm not dying.” I groaned softly, leaning against Jason.

Jay growled softly. “It's not all good. I told you to be careful. I told you not to hurt her!”

I shushed him softly, leaning in more. “No yelling…”

He sighed softly, kissing my forehead. “Sorry, baby girl…”

Bruce checked my eyes, frowning a bit. “... Nothing else she can do today. Take her home, have her take a few days off.”

Jay grunted his agreement and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms again, being carried to the elevator. Damian ran after us, bringing my bag along. I smiled softly, reaching down to stroke his hair. “Thanks, kiddo…”

He leaned in to my touch for a second before pulling back; “I'll come over tomorrow after school to check on you.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Damian.” He smiled a little at that, setting my bag in the car. Jason got me situated, making sure I was buckled, before getting in and driving me home.

“Fucking Dick…” he grumbled softly.

“Relax, baby. It's just a minor concussion. I'll be fine tomorrow.” I smiled softly, watching the scenery.

“Should never have happened…’’

“It was an accident, they happen. Don't be too harsh with him.” 

He sighed, resting a hand on my knee. “... This ok?”

I smiled softly and nodded, turning toward him; “Yeah, that's ok.”

He smiled a little and gently stroked my knee with his thumb; “when we get in, you're gonna rest on the couch. I'll get you some water, and aspirin, and I'll make something light for dinner.”

“Ok. Thanks, Jay~” I sighed softly, closing my eyes for a second.

“Don't sleep, now. You gotta stay awake for a while.”

“Ok, I'll stay awake.” I slowly opened my eyes, blinking a bit. “... So bright though…”

Jason pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his center console and passed them to me. I grinned, kissing his hand, and put them on. “Much better. … Takin' such good care'a me…”

He chuckled softly. “Anything you need, doll. Always.”

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[silverynight]

Addiction

One thing he didn't know about Fushiguro was that despite his cold demeanor, the boy was actually very physically affectionate. Right now they're sitting on Yuuji's bed and Fushiguro has his arms around the pink haired boy's waist. Yuuji can feel the other's cheek on his shoulder, but it doesn't bother him at all.

Although Yuuji hasn't seen him do that with anyone else, but it's not like he's with him all the time.

"Are you still with me?" Yuuji asks after a couple of seconds of complete silence; he doesn't mind it, but right now they're supposed to be studying for their finals.

"I'm not asleep if that's what you're asking," Fushiguro grumbles back, nuzzling against Yuuji's shoulder.

"So if you're trapped in a place that doesn't let you get out, that makes you walk the same hallway over and over... how do you break that type of curse?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, he doesn't like to make calculations; most of the time he punches his way out of any situation.

Finals are the worst. Can't they just send them to different missions instead of making them use their brains to solve something that isn't actually happening to them?

"You're pouting, Itadori," Fushiguro tries to look serious, but Yuuji notices the amusement in his eyes when he turns his head around. "Too difficult for you?"

"Shut up, Fushiguro!" Yuuji chuckles, trying to push his friend away. However, the dark haired boy just growls and tightens his grip on Yuuji's waist. "Come on, solve it!"

Before he can do that though, Kugisaki rushes into the room like it's her own. She rolls her eyes as soon as she notices their sitting positions on the bed.

"You should knock before you walk into a room, you know?" Yuuji scolds her, although it's mostly to bother her because he actually doesn't mind.

"Tch! It's not like I walked in on you two having sex or anything, calm down!" Kugisaki says, making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Why would we be having sex?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, as Fushiguro chokes next to him. He hasn't moved from his side though, not even after Kugisaki arrived.

"It doesn't matter because you two are going to go shopping with me!"

Fushiguro growls, but Yuuji perks up immediately because he's tired of studying; he needs a break.

Yes, they end up carrying most of Kugisaki's stuff, but Yuuji doesn't mind at all. However, Fushiguro keeps one of his hands free the whole time so he can grab Yuuji's waist.

He does that a lot lately. But it's fine, Yuuji doesn't mind and it seems to help him in social situations; Fushiguro doesn't like to be around people at all, it doesn't matter if they're complete strangers and they're not talking to him.

He hates crowded places.

"Hey, stay here with these while I take Itadori to the next store. I want his opinion on a dress I saw the other day."

Fushiguro doesn't seem to like the idea to be out there on his own, but he eventually nods a lets go of Yuuji.

"Jeez, it's like he's glued to you today," Kugisaki rolls her eyes after walking into the store with Yuuji. "I knew he had it bad, but this is a little bit too much."

Yuuji is not exactly sure what she's talking about, but he supposes it's about their friend.

"He's a little bit clingy now, but maybe it's because during our last mission the three of us almost died..."

"And he's afraid of losing you," Kugisaki cuts him off, surprising him.

"It's not just me–"

"It looks like he's addicted to you now," she says, looking around the store until she finds the light yellow dress with flowers; it's very cute.

"He's not!" Yuuji chuckles, having a hard time imagining Fushiguro getting addicted to something.

"I'm serious... He's in love with you, but in a weird way."

"What do you mean weird way?"

"A boy doesn't look at another boy like Fushiguro looks at you; it's like he is ready to marry you or something..."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about! We're just friends!"

"Sure, Itadori."

***

When they walk out, there's a girl with Fushiguro, curling up her own hair with her finger and smiling at him.

"Poor thing," Kugisaki snorts. "Thinking she has a chance. Although I must admit she's brave and very persistent because Fushiguro looks like he wants nothing more than for her to disappear."

Yuuji agrees that he looks certainly uncomfortable, although maybe it's just because the girl is not his type.

He considers for a moment making the same joke they did when Gojo was around, but he reminds himself that it seemed to make Fushiguro even more uncomfortable and embarrassed that time.

"Perhaps we should let him handle–"

"Fushiguro!" Kugisaki ignores the pink haired boy completely and waves her hand to catch his attention.

The other girl narrows her eyes, but Fushiguro looks absolutely relieved.

"I didn't know you had a girl–"

She shuts up as soon as Fushiguro walks towards Yuuji and wraps his arms around him, before burying his face in the curve of his neck; it makes Yuuji giggle.

"Uhh, hi, I'm Itadori..." it's too late; the girl is gone.

"You should buy a t-shirt that says 'no, thank you, I'm gay' and save the girls the trouble." Kugisaki chuckles.

"Are you gay, Fushiguro? I didn't know! Good for you, man!"

His friend has to move a few steps away from him in order to properly glare at him. Yuuji doesn't quite get it.

"You're an idiot, Itadori," he grumbles, cheeks turning slightly pink before he pulls a very confused Yuuji into his arms again.

The physical affection increases a lot after that.

It doesn't matter where they are, Fushiguro always manages to wrap himself around Yuuji. When the pink haired boy is watching a movie, lying on the couch, after a couple of minutes Fushiguro walks into the room and lies on top of him; he doesn't even bother to ask for permission.

Which is more than okay with Yuuji, they're friends after all, it doesn't matter what Kugisaki says.

However, even he finds it a little bit weird when Fushiguro starts holding his hand and intertwining their fingers together whenever they go out.

People start looking at them in a funny way, like that girl who was trying to flirt with Fushiguro before she found out he was gay.

When Fushiguro starts taking him to different places without Kugisaki and she outright tells Yuuji they're basically dating, he decides to finally ask him about it.

"Fushiguro," Yuuji mumbles, looking at their hands, feeling the warmth coming from his friend's skin and realizing that the waitress is treating them like a couple. "Are we dating?"

Choking on his coffee, Fushiguro stares at Yuuji before turning his head away and releasing Yuuji's hand. His cheeks have turned slightly pink.

"I'm sorry."

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but he realizes that he doesn't mind going on dates with Fushiguro, actually he's had so much fun and he finds him attractive.

"When you were planning to tell me?"

"I wanted to properly ask you out, but then the shopping center happened and you were so surprised after finding out I was gay I thought you were going to turn me down and I panicked. So I thought that maybe I could take you on a couple of dates and if you didn't like it you'd tell me to stop or to fuck off eventually."

Yuuji can't help but feeling charmed at Fushiguro's shy confession, he leans over the table and cradles his face.

"We can keep dating, but try to tell me what you want next time, okay?"

Fushiguro nods immediately, looking like he can't quite believe what's happening.

"You were sure I was going to turn you down or why are you–"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I thought you were straight."

"Oh," Yuuji moves back into his seat, but Fushiguro walks around the table to sit right next to him. "Well, I thought that too, but the truth is that I like you."

"Works for me." Fushiguro's voice sounds different this time. It almost like he's desperate, it makes Yuuji chuckle because he knows his friend is just being dramatic.

Right?

"Itadori, can I kiss you when we go back to our dorms?"

"Uhh, sure," Yuuji looks around and notices there are a lot of people in the cafeteria so it's probably a good idea to wait.

They still have lunch, but Fushiguro looks particularly impatient that day. It never occurs to Yuuji that it could be due to the promised kiss until they're back in jujutsu high and Fushiguro basically shoves him into his room and closes the door quickly.

"Hey, why are you–" lips crash into Yuuji's before he can even finish the sentence. A gentle hand cups the back of his head and pulls him closer.

Fushiguro kisses like he's starving and although the kiss is good it's a little bit overwhelming for Yuuji at first. When he feels a tongue sliding inside his mouth, he pushes his friend away gently.

"Calm down," he chuckles when Fushiguro chases his lips anyway. "I'm not going anywhere."

With his face completely red, Fushiguro nods before pulling Yuuji into a tight embrace and burying his face in the curve of his neck.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, just try to be gentle."

This time is Fushiguro the one who cradles his face and for the first time Yuuji looks into his blue eyes enough to notice the want and the need behind them; it sends a shiver through his spine but in a good way.

Sure, the kiss starts gentle and since Yuuji is prepared this time he kisses back and surrenders into it.

However, it quickly escalates to something more desperate and heated; Yuuji moans at some point and Fushiguro hums in approval before pushing him towards the bed.

"Wait. Slow. I want to go slow." He says, breathing heavily and blushing when he realizes Fushiguro eyes are a lot darker now.

"Okay."

They sit on the bed, cuddling and watching a couple of videos. It helps Yuuji's heart to calm down a bit.

"There's something you need to know about me, Itadori," Fushiguro says after a while.

"Yeah?"

"I'm very possessive." Fushiguro whispers, before pressing a soft kiss against his neck.

It's not his words, but the way he says them what makes Yuuji think that he might not survive this relationship. And yet, his heart is very happy at the moment.

***

Patreon

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 86 (Family Drama)

The next evening, before Heather and Conrad left for their date, her youngest sister, Hazel, arrived in Brindleton Bay to watch her niece and nephew.

Ash excitedly called to her from the computer as soon as she walked in the door. "Aunt Hazel, Aunt Hazel, come check out my new game!"

"Thanks for driving out here so Conrad and I can have a night out," Heather said. "The security cameras are working and Conrad's getting the kids fed before we go, so just get them to bed at a decent hour and no horror movies."

"It's just food colouring," she protested, but with Heather's stern glance she nodded obediently. "Sorry, Ashy. No Moonlight Massacre tonight, after all."

Heather changed the subject before Ash could complain. "I'm sad you won't be in town when we're in Henford this weekend to meet River and Cass' new baby boy. Dad says you don't call home enough."

Hazel laughed. "Dad tells me you don't call enough! None of us could ever call home enough. River still lives there and Dad probably thinks he doesn't get to see enough of him, either."

"Missing out on Dad guilt tripping us to visit for a political conference in San Myshuno's pretty cool, though. Ash, that's enough game time. Conrad's almost finished making your dinner."

Ash moaned, but he turned off the computer and headed for the kitchen as Hazel picked up her niece for a cuddle in her unicorn onesie. "I'm kind of glad to be out of Henford for the night to get in time with Ashy and Lava. Has that weird old dude been a problem lately?"

Heather made sure Ash was out of earshot. "Not since the restraining order," she said, the relief on her face more than evident. "And you're stuck on those nicknames, huh? I thought nicknames were too corny for you."

"It's not my fault your kids are just as cool as volcanoes, big sis."

Heather grinned. Hazel, the baby of their family, could get away with anything and dripped charm to spare, but Heather could tell something was weighing on her mind. "Are you doing okay?"

Hazel took a deep breath, setting Lavender down before she moved to the sofa. "What made you realize you wanted to be single when we were in high school?"

Heather laughed. "It was just easier than having feelings. It's still easier than having feelings, but finding the right person is better. What's wrong?"

She frowned. "What if Nicola and I got married too young? We're different people than we were as teens. When her dad died of a heart attack a few months ago, it felt like I wasn't married to the same person anymore. I know she's grieving, but what if we didn't wait long enough into young adulthood to figure it all out?"

Heather could empathize with her sister's confusion over love and relationships. Not too long ago, Heather would have found it unthinkable to offer her siblings, of all people, relationship advice, but Conrad had shown her what great love could be.

"You know I've never been very flirty or romantic, and I held on to my relationship with Malcolm too long because I didn't think I deserved any better. I'd never recommend it, but I also know Nicola's not Malcolm Landgraab. If you trust her, you can tell her the truth."

Hazel nodded. "No, she's definitely not like Malcolm."

"If you're truly unhappy, don't force it because you think you're supposed to. But if you're asking me, I think it means there's still some fight in you to keep it together."

(Lovestruck's new relationship and chemistry features went after Hazel and her new wife, and I'm rolling with it to see what happens. I cheated their relationship back up a bit - as if what Heather said encouraged her to fight a little more - and we'll see how it goes with them.

The way I said that probably gave away what might happen but pfft you don't know!)

Grateful for her eldest sister's advice, Hazel turned her attention back to Lavender, while Heather joined Ash and Conrad in the kitchen.

"Tomorrow night we'll pack some things into your backpack for your weekend at your dad's," Heather said to her son. "He'll pick you up after school on Friday and take you to his place for the weekend."

"He'll probably send their driver like usual," he shrugged. "But Ray's cool."

"What do you mean, 'like usual?'"

Ash looked at her with confusion etched on his face. "Daddy's reporting til seven on the news every weeknight, Mommy!"

Heather stared at Conrad, wide-eyed. "He told me he does those hits pre-recorded."

"He always sends Ray, and Ray always takes me to get ice cream before we get to Daddy's penthouse. Why do you look pretend happy, Mommy? I love ice cream!"

"Your mom just hasn't met Ray, buddy."

"But Mommy, he's not a stranger. He's Ray!"

Heather plastered a smile, and Conrad reached under the table to caress her clenched fist. "I'll be at school on Friday afternoon when Ray's there to pick you up at three," she said. "If he's as nice as you say, I don't want him to be a stranger to me."

Ash smiled. "Okay, Mommy, that's a good a idea."

Heather felt constantly undermined by the Landgraabs. But there was little she could say without disappointing her son, and she didn't want bitterness to affect her night with Conrad. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Their date continues Monday but tomorrow there will be a bonus post inspired by @purplesimmer455! 👀

NOTE 2: Also noting, since this is an episode where nothing much seems to be happening, there are a few subtle hints in here, too, about how Conrad is on a pedestal, especially when Heather compares him to Malcolm, even though we all know he's keeping this massive secret from her, too.

[overnightheartbeats]

Her smile couldn't be contained watching as he stood centimeters from her. Hiding how she felt and what she anticipated was not possible in any way or form. Laurel's eyes fluttered shut upon feeling those soft, lovely lips she had been hooked on from the start. "High praise, and you say I'm the one with the flirting skills," she teased, her hands cupping his face before pulling him in for a kiss of her own. The last two have been initiated by him, it was high time she give one to him. It's all she'd been thinking about for the last two weeks. "Hey, that night was great. No apology needed. I understand family, I just got it all mixed up. That's so sweet, being so close to your little sister." She zipped up her lips, "You're a great brother, and don't worry, I'll keep your secret." He had mentioned that last time, with that same sad tone. Chicago really was home, it seemed. "Well, for what it's worth, Austin is not that bad. It grows on you for sure, but don't say goodbye to Chicago. You never know where life could take you." Laurel was giddy at the thought of him meeting Julia and Aaron. Julia will be thrilled, especially when she was already such a big fan. "Wait, that's great! I love it, I'll let them know meeting you has made it to the itinerary."

It hadn't occurred to her that her answers had a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but she had said she was an open book. "I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. His question had thrown her off for a second. "Yeah. My mom, when she was still around. She was always going on and on about being a bit much, which is fine. It makes sense, I suppose. It helped me learned to tone it down." Though, she supposed toning it down was debatable. "Really? You'd learn with me. That would be so much fun, and we'd get a new skill out of it. Hopefully, some good food too." The thought was intriguing - her mind already trying to think of how could they make this work. Maybe borrowing her dad's kitchen, because the communal kitchen in the dorm buildings wouldn't cut it. "True, but it's all you at the end of the day. Pretty green eyes," and just like that - new nickname unlocked.

Laurel happily listened to him talk about his family. Usually, the family talk bummed her out, only reminding her of the odd mess she had. But, hearing him was a breath of fresh air. His family just sounded so sweet, full of love. Hearing that kind of love envelop him comforted her, especially when she thought back to the melancholy in his tone now. "Fooled me, or drew me in?" Wasn't it all about perspective? "Both of them like dancing, sounds like I need to thank them for their hard work teaching you. So, you're a snow over heat kind of guy?" Yet, he ended up here. How amusing. "That sounds so relaxing, cabin for holidays. You'll have to let me know how it goes. To Aspen? Unfortunately, no because you make it sound so fun. When we did vacations, my mom was always picking the places, and it was New York or Paris. I was also a kid, so it was a lot of following her around during shopping trips and then spending time with some random caretaker while they went out. Once it became my dad and I, then we tried visiting the Grand Canyon and sprained his ankle, so vacation cut short. But, his job keeps him busy too, so vacations are not too fun." He did try though, and that effort was everything to her. "Oh, true. Nerdy can be hot though, still doesn't matter if it's others' favorite hobby. Just yours. A self-help book, to teach others to flirt with you? No, thank you. I'll politely decline," she joked with a wink in his direction.

Something in common made her feel excited, eager to discover what else they could have in common. The possibilities seemed endless, which only made it better. "Random hobbies, huh? I mean, I'll try anything once really," that was said with a shrug. Her curiosity had a tendency to lead her to the most odd roads. "Are you trying to test my knowledge? Maybe so, or maybe I don't, but I could just throw random moves together and you wouldn't even know the difference. I'd have to dig the pom poms out of retirement," she laughed at the thought, though her attention was drawn back to his words. Laurel had never thought of silence that way, but there was no way to say that without it sounding pitiful. "The first one sounds familiar, but I guess I haven't had much of that second option. It could also be because I can never be quiet." Deflecting with jokes, a fine option. "You are just checking off all my boxes - cooking classes and stargazing, I am too lucky. I will be taking you up on that offer! I don't need the facts, just the company." His company, more specifically. "Yes, sounds like a plan. I still need to see these awesome blankets you hyped up earlier." They'd covered a decent amount of things already in the getting to know you trail, but she was quick to think of other things. "Okay, favorite color and what's one place, anywhere in the world, that you've always wanted to visit?"

Eli smiled and sighed as he chewed his lip before getting up off the chair to be centimeters away from her face. That almost mischievous childlike smile displayed as he brought her chin up with his fingertip and pressed a fleeting but warm kiss on her soft plump lips. "I don't think kissing you would ever disappoint me." He situated himself back on his chair and wrapped his ankles around the legs of the seat. "The saddle night was a good day. I'm sorry it got cut short. My little sister needed me and if you ever meet her, you'd see why. She and I are really close. She's my best friend. Just don't tell my brother and sister," he chuckled making his eyebrows crease. "Our little secret." The thought had crossed his mind once but ended up deciding that it was best if he didn't. "I wanted to but I think I'm going to stay or find some place to settle that would still be a flight away from them. I think I exhausted my time in Chicago." A sort of melancholy took over his voice saying that out loud. Her excitement was contagious and it made him nod. "I'd love to meet your best friends. That's a genuine feeling because I don't normally like to meet people." The bribery bit had him smile at her. He did wonder what she'd have up her sleeve.

"Don't worry about that. I don't deem you too much. Has anyone ever deemed you to be too much?" His curiosity had gotten him to ask the question. Otherwise he didn't think she'd have hesitancy over being known. "Realism isn't a bad thing. Though it's good to have a balance." he hummed and nodded. "We can learn together. I know a few things but the kitchen isn't really my forte. Eating is though. I wouldn't mind learning together and coming up with different recipes to try." It was a nice thought. Laurel and him in the kitchen making something and having fun. Not paying too much attention to the exact recipe just winging it at times. He smiled as they fluttered one quick time and shook his head. "I'll proudly take the title then. I don't know who to thank. Mom or dad could have had green eyes. Who knows."

"I fooled you with my subpar dancing skills. Mama P used to love to be twirled so every chance we got we used to twirl her. So she'd take us around the kitchen to dance. It was Papa P who used to teach us how to lead." The last time he skiied was last Christmas. The last holiday that was normal. "Not since last year. It was a family trip. I've got a picture of that time in my dorm. I love the snow. It's a magical place and would love to go back. Maybe rent a cabin and spend the holidays there." A dream he knew that couldn't be made reality since he didn't have the funds to actually do it. At least not yet. "Have you ever been?" He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Some people deem readers dorky and nerdy. So, it is not everyone's favorite hobby." She was cute when she laughed and her eyes sparkled with that joy. "It has worked. You have charmed me. Maybe now you should write a self help book on how to flirt the right amount."

"A one person type huh? Seems like we've got that in common." The smile he threw her was one that was half amused. "Cheerleading and tennis? Consider me more than intrigued. Do you still remember your cheer routine?" He'd wait until later to let her know he was one of the few cheer guys at the bottom of the pyramid. She didn't need to know that right now. "Silence isn't all bad. It depends on the person you're with. If they're using silence as a means for punishment then yeah that is not good. But if you're sitting in silence with someone who makes it safe and warm then you'd find it's also very fun. As for stargazing we should go sometime? I can't say I'll be full of facts but maybe I'll end up surprising you." Just then their food arrived and he grabbed it. "Shall we head back to the room?"

[lillotte17]

The Music Room

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS‼- Do Not Read unless you have completed the Dread Wolf's Regrets quest!!!!

AN: I have not finished the game, so I don't know if this will actually be part of my canon yet, but the world is currently awful and I...needed to be making something. But as I said: I have NOT finished the game yet, so if you leave a comment (pls and thank) do NOT write anything with spoilers in it!!!

Okay, on with the show!

~

Rill finds Inquisitor Lavellan sitting at the harpsichord in the music room. All of the other rooms at the Lighthouse had seemed barren when they had first started using it as their base, and even this one had apparently been used as some sort of storage space -there was an alarming amount of cheese for some reason- but the quiet here feels different in a way that is hard to quantify. Peaceful, as opposed to desolate. The light pouring through the windows is always bright in here. Always warm. The murals on the walls were still vivid when they came. Colorful and new. The most prominent one bears the symbol of the Inquisition flanked by howling wolves.

The woman contemplating it does not look like the fearsome hero who closed a hole in the sky and stopped the southern half of the world from falling into chaos, though. She looks small. And tired. And sad.

Rill clears her throat, feeling awkward.

“So. Not trying to complain or anything, but when you asked to come here, you did say that you could help by giving us insight into Solas’ history and his way of thinking and… Well. You were pretty quiet in there while we watched those memories.”

“I know,” Aili sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I knew some of it. Bits of things he told me himself. Things I figured out…afterwards. And I knew there would be more. More I didn’t know. He’s thousands of years old, so I knew that the story of his life would be more than what he had told me, but…”

“It’s a lot.” Rill hums in agreement.

“Bit of an understatement,” Aili snorts. Her gaze drifts down, and she runs her fingers over the instrument in front of her. “…I didn’t even know he played.”

“So, tell me what you do know,” Rill says, casually plopping down onto a nearby crate, “It’s probably more helpful than you think.”

“I know… I know that he hates tea.”

“Right. Noted. Probably shouldn’t offer him any of Lucanis’ coffee either, then.” Rill grins, folding her arms across her chest.

“Probably not,” Aili agrees, returning the smile faintly. “He has a sweet tooth, though. He loves books. Loves learning. And teaching, too. He was always happy to share stories about places he had been, or spirits he had talked to. He paints beautifully. And he sketches, too. He doesn’t laugh very often, but when he does, it’s…”

She trails off, her face creased with grief and faint traces of longing.

“I’m sorry.”  She says again.

Rill shakes her head at the apology but gives her a curious look afterwards.

“You said that Solas was important to you; I’m guessing you didn’t mean that you were just really good friends?”

Aili shrugs.

“I thought that we were…something.” She glances around the room again, eyes landing on the mural of the slain dragon and the mourning wolf above it. “Now I’m not sure if even that was true.”

“Is that something he would lie about?” Rill wonders, her eyebrows ticking upwards, “Because that would be some valuable insight. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to use seduction as a manipulation tactic, but he seems comfortable twisting the truth about everything else, so…”

Aili sits for a moment in silence, frowning in consideration before finally shaking her he in the negative.

“It’s… No.” She fumbles briefly. “I know that given…given everything we’ve seen, it might be hard to believe, but… He has a kind heart. Truly. He wants to do the right thing. He believes in justice, and he wants things to be fair. He wants to help people when he sees them suffering. And he blames himself when he can’t. He just…comes to the wrong conclusions, sometimes, and he struggles to ask for help when he needs it. He… There would be no reason to -no point- in lying about his feelings for me. I was already his friend, and I took his advice seriously. He had my ear and my protection. He wouldn’t get anything out of it unless his intention was to be needlessly cruel, and…he’s not like that. He isn’t.”

“Then why were you doubting that you had something?”

“It’s…complicated.” Aili sighs. “It’s about time, I think. Or at least, part of it is. He feels things deeply. Passionately. Even if you can’t tell which words he’s telling you are true, you can always tell when something matters to him. And this place… Mythal is everywhere. In every mural. In every room. Statues. Paintings. Symbols. Everything is about her. For her. Even now. Even after taking Flemmeth’s power and essentially killing her himself. His love for her, whatever shape or form it might have had, has colored every aspect of his life since the beginning of the world. And compared to that…”

She taps a single key on the harpsichord, letting out a high clear note.

“Mythal is the All-Mother. The Protecter. The bright and beguiling moon. And I…I am barely a candle flame.”

“You’re the Inquisitor. The Savior of the South. People still call you the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ You disbanded the Inquisition, and still managed to bring enough people together to hold back the darkspawn hordes while I fight the gods up here in the North. I think you might be selling yourself a bit short.” Rill says with a curl of her lips, trying to be kind.

“There will always be heroes, just as there will always be despots. I’m hardly unique in that respect.” Aili replies, striking another key. “A puny mortal striking back at false gods probably reminded him of his own past. His own struggles. Maybe that was it. Maybe there’s even something about me that made him think of Mythal. I don’t know. I don’t know what he saw in me. Or thought he saw. But look around. There are a few Inquisition symbols in this room, but beyond that… There is no trace of me in this place. Nothing he held onto. Nothing he felt was worth keeping.” 

Rill frowns. Fidgeting with her hands. Itching to pull out a blade to play with, but uncertain if the move would been seen as a threat.

“Sorry.” She offers after a few moments of silence. “I try not to talk to him very often, for obvious reasons. It’s still a bit creepy, if I’m being honest. Even if I did, though, I don’t think his romantic life would be something he’d be keen to tell me about.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aili assures her with a smile that does not reach her eyes, “He wasn’t keen to tell me either.”

“The Fade’s a funny place, though,” Rill says, gesturing at their surroundings, “I’m not always sure which bits of the things we’ve found here are from Solas, and which things we brought along ourselves. Lucanis found a book he used to read as a kid. Harding says she can smell her mom’s cooking sometimes. Neve said she can hear the sea when she wakes up in the mornings. Things like that, you know?”

The Inquisitor nods.

“Not surprising, given the nature of this place and the person who built it.” Aili says. “This was a refuge. For spirits and slaves fleeing tyranny. And for Solas himself, too. It wants to be welcoming. It wants you to feel safe.”

“It was different when we got here, though.” Rill tells her. “Bit empty. Bit sad. Lonely, almost.”

“Sounds like Solas,” Aili sighs, something close to exasperated fondness.

“This room though…” Rill sits up straighter, turning her head to glance at the sunlight painting patterns on the already painted walls. “It was always like this. It may be small and tucked away, but it’s honestly one of my favorite places in the Lighthouse. It’s always a little warmer in here. The sun’s always shining through the windows. The quiet in here feels like…comfort. Like home.”

“I feel like you’re trying to lead me somewhere, but I’m not sure where it is,” Aili chuckles.

“Well, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Rill grins back at her, “This is the only room with Inquisition symbols in it.”

Aili blinks. Makes a face.

“There are also murals of Mythal in here. Because she’s everywhere.”

It is Rill’s turn to sigh.

“Maybe she is. Maybe he couldn’t escape from her. Maybe he never will. What she did. What she made him do. What was done to her. But the library with all his memories of her is big and dark and gloomy. And the statues of her are stiff and aloof and cold. And the little room upstairs he shoved a cot into to sleep is…just depressing, really.”

 She catches the older woman’s gaze. Holds it.

“It’s called the Lighthouse, but the beacon at the top isn’t where the light is. It’s not in some huge memorial room dedicated to Mythal. It’s here. There’s a chair with your seal on it, almost waiting for you to sit and watch him play. There’s the paintings on the walls. There’s… Look, when did this become me telling you about the Dread Wolf’s heart?”

“I have no idea,” Aili laughs in earnest this time.

“Really though, this is a good room. I like to sit and read by the windows in here sometimes. The light in here always makes be think of summer afternoons. The air has a sweetness to it, too. Something flowery. Heather, maybe. Or Lavender.”

Aili starts, her eyes going wide.

“What’s wrong?” Rill asks.

“You said it smells like lavender in here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s…the soap I use. For my hair. I always have.”

“Well, there you have it!” Rill grins in triumph. “He kept your memory here. Away from his regrets. Somewhere bright and happy. Well…as happy as Solas gets, anyway. Not too bad for a candle flame, eh?”

Aili laughs again.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette didn't particularly get the idea of music translating into words. To her, music was music and words were words; you could mix the two in a song to evoke more emotion, but that wasn’t the same as one becoming the other.

That was the reason she was there, she supposed. Luka had intrigued her with his offer, and if anyone could make her believe it or learn something new about music, it was him. Sure, he was also kind of handsome, had soft blue eyes, and a dazzling smile, but she was there for a potential new understanding of the creative process, nothing more.

Not that there would've been anything wrong with going for both, of course.

She looked at the note once more to make sure she was at the right park. Luka's handwriting was unique and identifiable as his: not wild, but not "standard" either, while still being totally readable. It made sense for someone who had to write a lot.

After triple-checking to be certain, she stepped out onto the smooth walkway leading in, looking around for the fluffy black-and-blue hair she'd met only a week ago. There were some couples with little picnics set out that she couldn't help feeling jealous of, but she tried to ignore them.

She heard Luka before she actually saw him, which was a weird thought. A quick set of notes from a guitar had made her turn, spotting him sitting on a bench in the pleasant shade of some trees and waving at her.

She smiled, waving back and walking over to him. "Hey, Luka! How—" She stopped in place, catching herself before she could properly ask him. She raised the cellophane bag in her hands to her mouth, biting into the side to both free her hands and keep herself quiet, then made a flurry of hand movements to ask how he was doing.

He blinked rapidly in surprise, then gently rested the neck of his guitar on the bench so he could sign in return. His gestures were more natural than hers - had she been signing to herself, it might as well have been the language of aliens - so she could easily tell what he was asking.

"Yff—" She brought her hand back up to pull the bag out from her mouth, then answered proudly, "Yes, I learned a little bit over the weekend!" She waved her free hand from side-to-side like she was casting a spell, despite the sheepish look on her face. "I might've forgotten how to sign 'yes', but I knew what you were signing! That's something, right?"

The dazzling smile that she remembered, showing just a little bit of teeth but not too much, had returned. Luka nodded at her, pulling out a notepad and pencil from his pocket to write while she got herself settled in. He'd already left enough room on the bench for her to sit, so she took up the empty space and got comfortable.

He went to hand her his notepad, but she lifted up the cellophane bag first, giving it a shake to show off the assortment of macarons, cookies, and candies inside. "Here! Trade me."

He visibly perked at the offer, their fingers brushing as he took it from her.

She only realized what she'd done when his notepad was already in her hand, hurrying to say, "Oh! I put that in my mouth without thinking, didn't I? You don't have to—"

He'd already loosened the string so he could open it, grabbing one of the candies and unwrapping it before popping it into his mouth. He'd clearly heard her, but it was quickest to eat one to prove his point rather than tell her it was fine.

Plus, she had one of his forms of communications in her hands, so that had been out. She looked down to read what he'd written.

You didn't have to dress up for this, but you look nice. I hope this is enough shade for you.

She blushed at the first line. It was one thing to be complimented verbally, but in writing, she could read it over and over again. She checked Luka's reaction to see if he had any regrets about it, but he was cool as a cucumber, chewing on the candy she'd given him whilst getting the guitar back in his hands.

The second line was more confusing to where she had to actively dig through her memories to think of what it could be referring to. She did recall sitting down with him after the chaos had settled down, having some juice together, and her rambling unnecessarily long about everything from her job to—

"Wait—" she began in realization, "was this all because I complained about how hot it was that day?! That was one thing in all the nonsense I was talking about!"

He shrugged, smiling innocently and holding his hand out for his notepad. She pouted, feeling like he was being unfair with how sweet he was to someone he'd barely just met, but relented and gave it up to him. She just couldn't quite believe it, having felt so bad for how chatty she'd been with him, but he'd apparently paid attention to every word of it.

She wasn't sure if that was more or less embarrassing than being ignored the whole time.

"O-okay, so..." She looked down sheepishly at his guitar, trying to change the topic as casually as possible. "How are we going to do this? You showing me how you talk with music?"

One hand still holding the guitar's neck, he flipped through the pages of his notepad with the other. He showed her a pre-prepared page with his answer, which stated:

I'll play something for you. You don't have to do anything but listen and imagine a story in your mind.

A story? What kind of story? She wanted to ask, but knew that she wouldn't get a response.

Squinting at him, still skeptical, she gave into the request and closed her eyes. "Alright. Ready when you are."

There were a few small, short notes at first - either Luka warming up or being genuinely nervous to start - but then an actual melody began to develop. She shut her eyes tighter, like it might ruin everything if she looked, and her nose scrunched up as she tried to focus on what he was playing and the instructions he'd given.

It sounded... regal? No, adventurous? Maybe both? It reminded her of movies that she would watch as a child, where a knight would go off somewhere for the sake of a princess. The music would get more dramatic as the knight was surrounded by dangers, then victorious as he triumphed. She caught herself smiling over this imaginary character she'd literally made up in her head, returning to the princess and receiving a favor from her for his efforts. It really was like a film, but shortened to a few minutes long and somehow familiar to her.

Her eyelids popped back open when the music ended, then blinked to readjust to her surroundings. Luka was staring at her curiously, the hand that'd been strumming resting more casually on his guitar as he waited.

"Erm..." She trapped her chin, slightly anxious and feeling like she was being quizzed. There weren't any real stakes involved, but what if she failed? "I... thought about a knight? He met and saved a princess, and she gave him her thanks? Maybe she even offered him something for it?"

The actual image in her head was more vivid than she let on, but it was difficult describing it when she figured that it could've been her overactive imagination.

Not missing a beat, Luka shot her a smile and flipped a page in his notepad to present to her. No way.

That's us, on the day we met.

Her mouth dropped open. She got it right? But then... "Uh—! So I'm the knight?! You're joking!"

Not that Luka wouldn't have made a pretty princess though. If he had just the right dress that accentuated—

She shook her head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. He, meanwhile, was unphased by the mental struggle she was having and flipped another page.

You were so cool. I've been trying to figure out how to say it all week.

"It wasn't a big deal!" she insisted, flushing pink. "They were judging you because of your looks and how 'quiet' you were, so I—you know—"

She made a few wild gestures that in no way resembled sign language but she hoped would convey the full dismissal of whatever he'd apparently been imagining their first meeting to be like. Worse still was that what he'd written implied that he'd been working on that melody all week in order to have it ready for her, and she knew what it was like to pour one's creativity into something.

He meant it and she'd heard as much.

Dropping her hands into her lap shyly, she had to relent, "But... I guess I get what you mean now, about saying things with music instead of words, even if I feel like your notepad should be confiscated."

Amused, he smirked, purposefully holding the notepad to the side furthest from her, out of her reach as she teasingly swiped at it. Using only the tilt of his head and look in his eyes, he asked her a playful 'why?'

"Why? I—" she began, then stopped when she needed to actually think about it. One disadvantage to not being mute like him was that she wasn't required to think before saying anything, such as how Luka needed to take the time to write out a full thought and read it before showing her.

Clearing her throat, she started over, "I can't believe you had fun last week? I mean, I guess it made sense if you invited me here, but I thought it was just from me helping you a little! Since we were there for a whole hour and I felt so bad because—" She realized what she was about to say, but it was too late to stop it. "—I was doing all the talking!"

Luka laughed outright at that, and the only thing keeping her from crawling under the bench and wishing for death was that it was actually pretty cute. He had a breathy sort of laugh, making it more quiet than a typical one but somehow incredibly charming.

Marinette leaned forward and rested her elbows on her lap, clasping her hands together in front of her mouth as her lips tried to both smile at him and grimace at herself at the same time. The fact that he hadn't fled at her flubs was a relief but also utterly perplexing.

She dared a peek over at Luka, who'd finished laughing and was trying to write something. It was taking him longer than usual and she noticed a little twitch in his brow, a contrast to what had otherwise been him being totally calm the whole time. Eventually, he tore the page out, scrunched it up, and stuffed it in his pocket, opting to put his hands on his guitar instead.

Marinette grew curious when his fingers twitched without playing any actual melody. He did start, but stopped, then started and stopped again, biting his lower lip in contemplation. Hand motions were also useless without a full understanding of sign language on her part.

He ended up settling on the notepad again, this time being unexpectedly quick in writing something. She hadn't realized how much suspense she was in until he presented it to her, her hands practically snatching it from him to read it.

You make me feel speechless, Marinette.

She blushed all the way up to her ears, speechless herself. She could excuse being told that she looked nice as some casual remark or pleasantry, the music as his only way of teaching her what she'd asked about, and not being put off by her constant talking as him being extremely polite, but this—

Was he flirting with her? There was a mild possibility of it being a joke at his own muteness, but when she checked his expression, he was watching her with a half-lidded gaze without any sense of playfulness. If anything, she could've sworn she saw a hint of shyness. Had he never put himself out there for someone before?

"You—" She looked at the notepad again, forcing herself to relax her grip before she wrinkled the pages. "You make me feel... um, speechful? I've never talked so much to someone I just met." She ducked her head. "You look nice too, by the way."

That was all she could really manage without feeling silly. Her experience with relationships was laughably limited and she didn't know how to flirt back or assure him that his flirting wasn't unwelcome. She just knew that he was thoughtful, adorable, and sweet, and that every time she glanced at his mouth a little too long, she'd catch herself thinking about other things it must have time for if he couldn't use it to talk.

She became alert as she felt a tug on the notepad - Luka having reached over to take it back - but she impulsively resisted, blurting out, "C-can I have this? The note I mean, not the notepad!"

He grinned, any of the previous nerves she thought she'd seen before gone as he nodded. The notepad slipped easily out of her hands this time, him far more careful tearing the note off than the other paper he'd scrunched up, and he wrote something extra before handing it off to her.

You can have more than that.

Underneath the line he'd written was his phone number, a rush of heat and relief going through Marinette at the confirmation that she wasn't the only one who wanted to meet up more. Whether Luka's directness was from the inability to speak or simply part of his character, she wanted someone like that; no misunderstandings, just his honest feelings.

She wasn't quite sure what she'd gotten herself into in the long term but, going off the matching pink on Luka's cheeks, she was sure that it was a good thing.

[lillypad-monopoly]

Wild Life Episode 3 Thoughts

Sorry I don't have very good commentary this week. I was really busy and then life happened so I watched these POVs over the course of 6 days and didn't always take live notes.

The snail gimmick is iconic! Another amazing wildcard and a good Grian reference as well as being memey!

Someone joked about them being soulbound to the snails and I'm praying for the return of a soulbond Wildcard so hard right now

I'm genuinely concerned Skizz and Jimmy won't make it to episode 5. I hope we get some more passive wildcards coming up or this is going to be a pretty short series (also I would like them to get some stuff done)

Grian freezing the game is the lore event ever. Watcher powers are real but also he's clearly fighting back against their agenda more this season (once again such angst potential here RE: Grian knowing the wildcards ahead of time)

Ren digging all those holes looking for their horse is literally the definition of insanity and it's hilarious

Martyn and Etho interacting is always interesting both because the anime skin boys are hanging out together and because they have literally opposite playstyles. Martyn is crazy reckless and Etho is soo careful.

WHY DO REN AND MARTYN HAVE A DOUBLE BED

I really want to know all the snail names, since not everybody died this ep

I love that we're kind of going back to "suggestions" again, what with Tango killing Skizz and Martyn making snails invisible just for kicks. It feels like 3L and it's so fun.

I was so excited for Bdubs angst hour only for him to change his mind and not feel bad about anything after all

Etho's monologue 😂. The reason the go for you early is because they see you as a threat, not because they think you're not tough OMG.

Etho don't die to a creeper in the life series challenge impossible

Watching PICS build a base was actually so refreshing. I love the snail gimmick very much but it was nice to watch a POV where they were actually doing some classic life series stuff

Scott predicting violence for the next ep is...concerning lol. I don't know what he's seeing that I'm not, but outside of wild card stuff it doesn't really feel like we're at that point just yet

Actually I wouldn't put it past Tango to go wild. I'm just not sure the other Tuff Guys will follow him

I will be quoting "He's coming and he has only violence in his heart" from now on thank you Scott

Joel saying they have no enemies is so funny. The reason you don't have any enemies is cause everyone is too scared to cross you 😂.

Gem being excited about her snail while everyone else panics is iconic I love her

Joel giving Skizz a PVP lesson is so funny because Skizz *can* PVP from what I recall (I haven't seen a lot of Skizz so I could be wrong here)

Jimmy blowing up the car in front of Joel, Gem and Etho is the definition of "history doesn't repeat itself, it rhymes"

Lizzie I love you but you need to turn down something on your texture pack because everything is so bright

Bdubs manufacturing Tuff Guy behavior killed me. All of the Tuff Guys are such wet cats I love them <3

I've never watched Empires, but the bit where Jimmy gets blown up by a creeper has such powerful older sister/younger brother energy that I think I might have to headcanon them as siblings now

Scar and Lizzie being in the caves for the introduction of the snails and trying to figure out what's going on feels like a horror movie premise. People mysteriously dying to snail related stuff, and then a mob that's not in the game shows up and looks similar to the other person you're with and is following you around...

Team Bam/The Bamboozlers are as chaotic and struggling as hard as I expected. I don't actually want Lizzie to loose her teammates because I want everybody in until the last session, but it would be really funny if she did.

[pocket-watcher]

I really loved the massage fic you did awhile ago! I don't really have another idea but could you do another one like that?

Hiya anon! My ongoing back pain and I can definitely dream something up for you!!

“…Why the hell are you standing like that?”

Aiysha’s disapproving gaze looked over Henry, who was contorting his body to stand in the most unnatural way possible.

“This is the only way I can stand where the pain is tolerable.” He whined.

Aiysha tutted. “You’re a grown man, Henry, I told you that this was going to catch up with you! You can’t sit like a gremlin while you work anymore.”

Henry shifted, whimpering in pain quietly.

Aiysha cared. A lot. More than she’d like to admit, and seeing her friend in pain? Well…

“Ugh. Fine, look.” She fished a card out of her purse and handed it to Henry. It read:

DR. MONTGOMERY

Liscenced masseuse and chiropractor

The address wasn’t too far from his house, Henry thought to himself.

“When I broke my back he worked magic. Maybe he’ll be able to help you.”

Henry thanked her, and she pulled him into a hug, and he felt his back twinge in pain.

Yeah, he’d need to make an appointment. Today, if possible.

—————————

“Henry Williams?” The receptionist called out.

He stood, and allowed himself to be navigated to a room where presumably Dr. Montgomery was waiting for him.

“Ah! Henry! What seems to be the problem?” The man asked, as Henry hopped up onto the massage table.

“So, uh, my posture isn’t great, and my whole back hurts. I don’t think it’s like anything wrong, just all my muscles aching a lot.” He explained.

The doctor scribbled some notes as Henry talked.

“Okay, if you can take off your clothes and lie down on the table then we can start, and if the problems persist I can talk to you about further treatment. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great, thank you!” Henry began unbuttoning his top and the doctor looked away. Henry positioned himself, a towel covering him.

As he put his face through the hole in the massage table he noticed a screen below it.

“Oh, cool! What does this do?”

He could hear the doctor approaching him.

“We use it to play soothing music and visuals to help our clients relax. Here, let me show you.”

The doctor bent down and flipped a switch. The screen came to life, playing a soothing video of the ocean.

Henry felt the cool touch of hands on his back and allowed himself to melt into the table.

Dr. Montgomery’s hands worked expertly, as if the man knew exactly where the pain was coming from.

Henry bit back moans of relief, trying to focus on the screen below and not the glorious feeling of relieved tension.

The screen might have glitched a little. It was like another image was burned on top of the calming beach video.

He didn’t cock his head in confusion. No, it was more that the doctor had moved it to one side to get at a particularly bad knot in Henry’s shoulder.

A few moans escaped.

Henry kept watching the video. He realised they were words. Words burnt into the screen. He tried to make them out as his body sank into the massage table.

S…sub…mit?

That’s weird, he thought to himself.

Another:

Obey.

Giv…e in

Relax

The words became clearer the more he focused on them.

Deeper

Pleasure

Control

Henry’s mind, unfortunately, was too relaxed to panic. The combination of the calming atmosphere, the relief of the massage, and the subliminal messaging being beamed into his brain for the last 10 minutes had carefully moulded him into a puddle, with any resistance leaving his body with every moan and whine.

Dr. Montgomery tutted.

“You’re not taking care of yourself. You need to sit properly. Stand every once in a while. Maybe even a light stretch.”

The words washed over Henry, taking up all the free space that PAIN had previously occupied. He tried to agree, to nod, but all he could do was stare.

“Once this massage is over you’re going to forget all about this little talk we’re having, and you’re going to start being more sensible with how you work and how you sit. Aren’t you?”

Henry murmured in response. Which turned into a heavy breath as the doctor pushed down onto a sore point.

“Atta’ boy.”

Aiysha waited outside for Henry, but something was pulling her inside. Sure, her back was fine now - but a little self pampering never hurt anyone…?

Before she could make an appointment Henry, with a spring in his step, greeted her outside.

“You look better.” She grinned.

“I owe you, like, my whole life. Dinner? On me?”

Aiysha smiled at the building.

“Sounds great.”

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 9

“Leo”

Author’s note: And we've made it to the end! Thank you very much to everyone who has read this story, supported it, for all your nice words and messages (they mean a lot) and of course, thank you to the anon who inspired it all! 💜 Hope you like this last chapter, and hopefully seen you soon with more Pedri 😊

Chapter 8

Masterlist

“Fuck the protocol”

“What did it do to you know?” I laugh.

“Making me wear this stupid suit and this stupid bow tie” Pedri says, struggling to tie it. “I hate it.”

“Then let me help… Shit.”

“Sofía, are you ok?” he says, quickly showing up at my side.

“I'm fine, don't worry. It's just that standing up at almost nine months pregnant isn't as easy as some people may think.”

“Ok, come here” he says, putting his arm around my waist and helping me get up from my chair.

“Thank you, Pedri.”

“Anything for you, my lady” he smiles.

“Now, let me see that bow tie.”

“It is a pain in the ass” he sighs. 

“A pain in the ass is having to wear high heels for hours. Or having to wear high heels while carrying a child inside you that is pushing against your bladder and making you want to pee every five minutes.”

“This is nothing compared to all that, true” he chuckles. “You women are amazing, you know? The world would go to hell without you.”

“Oh, we are very aware of that, trust me. Why are you smiling like that?” I say while struggling to make his bow tie look good.

“I was just thinking about something you said the day we met.”

“That I like men with interesting noses?”

“Nope, something else. It has to do with this thing in your head.”

“What?” 

“Your tiara. The day we met I asked you if didn't all princesses wear crowns, and you told me that if you were lucky maybe one day you would get to wear a tiara for a royal wedding or something like that, and here you are now. This is the first time I'm seeing you wearing one.”

“And probably the last since I only have one sister and this will hopefully be the only time she gets married.”

“What if I buy you one?”

“What?” I chuckle.

“I like the way it looks on you. It really suits you.”

“Because I am the queen of your heart?” I tease him.

“That too” he winks. “But I could get you a simple one that isn't one hundred years old and a family heirloom. Something you could wear if I organised you a fancy dinner at home or something like that.”

“Oh, it would look so nice with my pjs.”

“Of course it would. You can make anything look good, my lady” he smirks.

“You are such a flatterer, Pedri González” I laugh.

“And you love it.”

“A bit, yes. And this is done” I say when I finish with his bow tie. 

“How do I look?” he says, taking a step back and doing a twirl.

“Gorg… fuck!”

“Sofía! Sofía, are you ok? What is it? Is it the baby?” he says as he helps me sit down. 

“It was something like a cramp, but it has passed, I'm fine.”

“Sofia, you were in pain. What if something happened? What if…”

“What if what?”

“What if the baby is coming?” Pedri says.

“That's not possible. It is too soon and…”

“Let me go call Carlos.”

“No!” 

“Sofía, you are hurting. I can see it in your face and feel it on the way your nails are digging in my arm.”

“Sorry. I'm sorry” I say, letting go of him. “But I'm fine, don't call anyone.”

“Sofía, you may be in labour.”

“May be, exactly. We don't know for sure, and I'm actually starting to feel better.”

“Sofía…”

“It was a false alarm, Pedri. I'm feeling much better, I…”

“Sofía!” he says, catching me when I try to get up and suddenly start feeling dizzy. “That's it, I'm calling Carlos.”

“Pedri, I told you I'm fine.”

“You are not, Sofía. Stay there and don't move.”

“I can't! My sister is about to get married, I can't miss her wedding!” I say, trying to get up again.

“Sit down, Sofía” Pedri says, looking the most serious I've ever seen him.

“Urgh” I groan, doing as he asks. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“The doctor is here, ma'am” Carlos says.

“You've called him for nothing, Pedri. I'm fine.”

“Sofía, can you please stop being so stubborn?” he says, rolling his eyes.

“It's the truth! I'm… I'm fine.”

“Of course you are.”

“Your royal highness” the doctor says when he walks into the room. “What happened?”

“Sofía may be in labour.”

“I'm not, Pedri. I'm fine. We should be on our way to the cathedral to see my sister get married instead of being here wasting everyone's time” I say, struggling to get up from the bed where Pedri had forced me to move after I got another really bad cramp.

“Doctor, can you please help me here?” Pedri sighs.

“Ma’am, you are almost nine months pregnant, you could be in labour. And your husband only worries about you and the baby, he wants you both to be safe.”

“I know.”

“Then let the doctor check you, Sofía” Pedri says, sitting on the bed next to me. “Please.”

“I… fine” I say, finally giving up. “I can't never say no to you when you are looking at me with those big brown eyes of yours and then add a pout.”

“A pout with my lips made to kiss and be kissed?” he smirks.

“And now you add that smile! You are using all my weaknesses against me, Pedri. That's cheating!”

“Sorry” he shrugs. “I just worry about you, Sofía. About both of you” he says, caressing my bump. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Sofía!” my mum says, storming into the room. “Sofía, are you alright? And the baby?”

“We are fine, mum.”

“But they told me the doctor came to check on you!”

“He did.”

“And?”

“And looks like the little one didn't want to miss auntie Leonor's wedding” I chuckle.

“What?”

“I'm labour, mum.”

“Already? And what are you doing here? Why aren't you in the hospital?”

“Because it still is too soon.”

“Is it?” she asks, looking at Pedri.

“It…”

“Sofía!” Leonor says, coming into the room just as my mum just did. “Oh my God, Sofía. Are you ok? And the baby?”

“We both are fine. But wow, Leonor. You look…. Wow” I say. Because she's showed up wearing her wedding dress, her tiara and everything else. “Max’s jaw is gonna be on the floor the moment he sees you” I smile, remembering what she and Irene had said about Pedri before our wedding.

“I hope so” she replies, also smiling. “But are you sure you are ok?”

“I'm fine. For now.”

“What?”

“She's in labour” my mum says.

“Already? Isn't it too early?”

“My due date is in a couple of weeks, but the doctor said that there is no need to worry and that it can happen. I'm just so sad I'm gonna miss your wedding… I wanted to be there with you.”

“Don't worry about that now, you can always watch it on tv. What matters is that you both are ok.”

“We are. We will be.”

“I'll make sure of it” Pedri says.

“You both look so calm” Leonor laughs.

“We look calm now. Twenty minutes ago we were yelling at each other because your sister here is the most stubborn person I've ever met.”

“Yet you love me” I smile.

“With all my heart” he smiles back.

“Aww… cute” Leonor says. 

“Very cute, but you and mum should get going. I know it is usual for the bride to be late, but not this late, and I don't want poor Max thinking that you are leaving him standing in the altar.”

“She's right” our mum says. “I left your dad alone with your grandmother and he must be driving her crazy. Or vice versa. But Sofía, I can stay with you if you want.”

“Pedri's mum already is on her way, don't worry. I'll be in good hands until you can free yourself from your queen and mother of the bride duties.”

“I know you will, but... Are you sure?”

“I am. Now go, c'mon.”

“Ok, ok. No need to kick us like that” Leonor chuckles. “I love you, little sis” she says while hugging me. “You can do this.”

“Love you too, big sis. And you can also do this. Getting married in front of the whole world, I mean.”

“No pressure there, uh?” she sighs. “But thank you.”

“Keep us updated on everything, ok?” my mum says when it is her turn to hug me. “I'll leave as soon as I'm allowed to, and if the baby can't wait, I'll run away, I don't care.”

“Fuck the protocol?” I laugh.

“That wording is a bit offensive, but yes, that's basically it” she smiles. “I love you, Sofía.”

“Love you too, mum.”

“Well…” Pedri says, sitting down on the bed next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders while I rest my head on his. “It is happening.”

“It is, yes.”

“Are you scared?” he asks, kissing my head.

“A bit, yes. You?”

“I'm shitting myself.”

“Please tell me this time you aren't being literal like at our wedding” I laugh.

“Not yet.”

“Eww, Pedri!” I laugh again. 

“Sorry, I'm sorry. But even if I'm scared, I know you can do this, Sofía. I believe in you.”

“Thank… you.”

“Another contraction?”

“Yes” I nod. “And this one hurt a lot more than the last one.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe one of those massages they taught us?”

“That may be useful later. For now being like this is just enough” I say, curling up against him. 

“I can't believe we will be becoming parents in hopefully just a few hours” he says, his fingers caressing my arm, making me relax. “It feels like yesterday when we were talking in that corridor in Germany, shamelessly flirting with each other.”

“It does feel like it, doesn't it? But you know, if I got to relieve that moment, I would always choose to follow you outside the party.” 

“Because you couldn't wait to get rid of your dad and his friends telling the same anecdotes all over again?”

“That too” I chuckle. “But also because maybe, just maybe…” I say, lifting my head from his shoulder and looking at him. “I also had a little crush on you.”

“Wait, really? It wasn't just me?”

“I mean, you had a proper crush on me, Pedri. Mine was starting after watching you at the Euros, and it didn't stop until I fell head over heels in love with you. It hasn't stopped, to be honest.”

“Do I still make you feel butterflies in your stomach?” he smiles.

“Every single day. And I hope it never stops. I love you, Pedri.”

“I love you too… my lady” he says before kissing me. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Knock, knock. Can we come in?”

“Leonor?” I say when I see her at the door of my hospital room, Max standing behind her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting after yesterday?”

“I should, yes. But turns out that my little sister also gave birth, and I couldn't wait to see her and meet my nephew” she says, coming to my bed and hugging me. “How are you, Sofía?”

“Good. Sore and tired, but good. And really happy. You?”

“Extremely hungover” she chuckles. “But tell me, how did it go? Is what mum told me true and he let you watch the wedding?”

“Yep” I nod. “During the ceremony everything was pretty smooth, but once it ended, he said: auntie Leonor already had her moment, now is my turn.”

After she and my mum left, things had been quite calm. Both Pedri and I had had time to get changed, eat something, chat, and in my case, bawl my eyes out while watching the wedding on tv. But the moment Max and Leonor got into the car and started saying hello to all the people gathered on the streets, everything changed. My contractions started to become more painful and frequent, and when the doctor came to check me again, he said it was time to go to the hospital, the little one joining us just a couple of hours later.

“How did he do?” Leonor asks me, nodding towards Pedri. He is standing next to the window, the baby in his arms. 

“He started crying the moment the doctor said the head was out, and then didn't stop. At one point his mum even worried he was going to end up dehydrated” I chuckle.

“I didn't cry that much, don't listen to her” he says.

“He did” I whisper. “But other than that, he's been amazing” I smile while looking at him caressing the baby's cheek and whispering something to him. 

I thought I couldn't love Pedri more than I already did, that it was impossible to fall in love with him more than I already was. But every time I see him with the baby, with our son, I actually do it. I fall even more in love with him, my heart feeling like it is about to burst out of happiness and love.

“You are the one who is amazing, Sofía. Look at him” he says, kissing the baby's head. “I can't believe he is real. That he is my son.”

“Can't you? Haven't you seen all that hair?” Max chuckles. 

“I haven't” Leonor says, getting up from my bed and moving to where they are standing. “Oh my God, Sofía. He is perfect! And definitely Pedri's son, yes” she smiles, caressing his head. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Pedri tells her. 

“I… I don't know. Babies aren't my thing.”

“C'mon, Leonor. You are his auntie and godmother, you have to get used to it” I say.

“Wait, his godmother? Me?”

“Yeah. Who else?” 

“I don't know… Irene, perhaps? You've always been super close.”

“We have. But she isn't my sister, you are. And since Fer is going to be his godfather…” I shrug.

“I… I don't know what to say, guys. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Now put your hand here” Pedri says, helping her hold the baby. “There, perfect. Little one, meet your auntie Leonor. Leonor, meet your nephew Leo.”

“Wait, Leo? Aren't you naming him Carlos?” she says.

“That was a little white lie” I smile. “We wanted to surprise you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because we've named him after you.”

“What?” she says, looking from me to Pedri, then at the baby in her arms, and then back at me.

“I mean, if you don't like it, we can always say we named him after Messi since he is my idol” Pedri shrugs.

“No, we won't!” I say.

“I was just teasing you, my lady” he winks. “That story we told everyone about naming the baby Carlos as some kind of homage to him because he had been key in our love story and we wouldn't be here without him, was just a lie because we wanted to surprise you and we didn't want anyone ruining it” Pedro smiles.

“But… but…” Leonor mumbles. “What about Fer? You could have named him after him too.”

“We already have two in the family, we don't need another one. Besides, how would we call him? F?” he chuckles. “Leo is perfect. And not because that's Messi’s name” he says, looking at me.

“I… I don't know what to say, I… Thank you, guys.”

“Aww, Leonor” Max says, wiping away her tears since her hands are busy holding Leo.

“This is the best wedding gift ever, guys. Thank you” she says, managing to free one arm to hug Pedri. “Thank you, Sofía” she says, coming to the bed to also hug me. “I love you.”

“I love you too” I reply, hugging her back.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ready, my lady?” Pedri says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze. 

“Ready” I say, taking a deep breath before the hospital doors open and we walk outside, the reporters and photographers waiting for us already shouting.

“Your royal highness, how are you?” one of them asks me when we stop in front of them.

“I'm well, very happy. Thank you for asking” I smile.

“And the father? How is he feeling?”

“Also very happy” Pedri says.

“Why Leo?” another reporter asks.”It isn't a very royal name.”

“He is named after my sister Leonor” I explain. “So it is a royal name.”

“Awww…” a bunch of them say. 

“Who does he look like?”

“Everyone says he is a mini me” Pedri chuckles, moving the blanket I have wrapped around Leo so they can see him better.

“Oh, he definitely has your hair” the reporter says.

“He does, yes” he says, caressing Leo's head. “Though I think he's gotten his mother's character.”

“How so?”

“Well, he is just a couple of days old, and he is quite stubborn already. Like his mum.”

“Pedri!” I say, elbowing in the ribs while the reporters just laugh. 

“Do you think he may have gotten your talent? That we may have the first royal football player in history?”

“We actually do. You should have seen the way he kicked me before he was born” I laugh. 

“We should start getting his room ready at La Masía, then” one of the reporters says.

“He may already have it” Pedri smirks, making them all laugh again.

“Ma'am, we should get going” Carlos says behind me.

“Oh, yes. Thank you very much for coming, guys. And for all your good wishes too, it means a lot.”

“One last photo, ma'am. Ma'am!” the photographers say as we move towards our car, both Pedri and Carlos escorting me.

“We did it” Pedri says once we are inside the car.

“We did it, yes.”

“Ready for what is ahead, my lady?” he says, taking my hand on his and kissing it. “Now the hard work begins.”

“I know. But I also know I can do it. That we can do it. As long as we are together, we can do anything.”

“I mean, I managed to teach you how to dance without injuring me, didn't I? After that, everything is possible” he smirks.

“You are such an idiot, Pedri González” I say, hitting his arm.

“Yet you love me, my lady” he replies.

“More and more every day” I smile before resting my head on his shoulder as the car starts moving, the new chapter of our lives ahead of us. 

━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━

[nightwonder7]

NORTON GHOST AU.. NORTALICE PLESSS??

Okay I'll indulge fghdsjfkgsjka

Norton would be one of the ghosts who'd be more pessimistic about Alice at first. He had no faith in her solving their predicament and just wanted her to go away so they could be left in peace. And when the other ghosts agree to ask for her help (he was against this), he became reticent and tried to avoid her.

At first Alice respected his wishes of wanting to be left alone, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something she had done to upset him because of the way he acted towards her. She wanted to resolve any issues that may be between them as they are practically living together for an undetermined amount of time. Otherwise things will just be uncomfortable all around. Unfortunately, Norton is one of the more stubborn ghosts and would act cold towards her and push her away. Still, Alice is curious about Norton. She doesn't know exactly why, but something about him seemed enticing in a way. Perhaps she could sense there was something more to him than this brick wall he presented as.

Norton could often be found outside alone in the forest near by or in the court yard. He seemed to prefer the open sky over the enclosed spaces in the manor. While outside he would just wander around, like he is searching for something, inspecting the rocks on the ground. Or he would lie sprawled out on the grass and stare at the sky. Alice had on several occasions tried to approach Norton when she sees him out and about alone, but as soon as she closes in on him, he would just give her this dead look and vanish before her eyes.

Once it becomes apparent that each ghost needs to resolve their trauma in order to lift the curse, they have no choice but to work together, much to Norton's dismay. He did NOT budge at first and tried avoiding her even more. I can picture this scenario where Alice keeps finding him again and again after he vanishes whenever she approaches him, and he becomes increasingly frustrated that she seems to know where he is every time (she had taken a mental note of all the spots he frequents and used that to track him down). It becomes this slow, wild chase until Norton is fed and tells her to leave him the heck alone. But Alice is insistent; working through this together will make it easier for the both of them. It needs to be done.

Norton begrudgingly agrees at last, and the two of them finally sit down to talk. He is uncooperative with her and gives her super vague, short and snarky answers to her inquiries. After hours of this, Alice finally has enough. "Please, Norton! I'm begging you!" "What you want me to do?" "Give me more to work with, for a start." "That's all I've got." "I don't believe that for a second. There's more to your story. The records-" "Then use those! Everything you need to know is already there." "Firstly, the records don't have the full picture. Secondly, you're the one who needs to remember, not me. That's why I need you to walk me through-" "You don't need anything!" "... I'm trying to help you. Why won't you let me?" "I never want your help to begin with!" "This isn't only about you, Norton. Everyone's affected by this entangled mess. Take some responsibility, please. I know this is hard for you. I want to understand, I really do. But you have to help me to do so." "..." "Maybe I'm not the right person for this, after all."

Alice would then leave Norton alone while the others berate him for ruining their chance of getting out of this place. He acts like he doesn't care, but deep down he feels really bad about it all. He wanted her off his back, and now that he finally got what he wanted, he wasn't so sure anymore. Especially seeing Alice's spirit so broken. While he tries to think of a way to rectify things, he finds Alice one night, sitting in the parlor in her night gown and staring out the window. She doesn't acknowledge him as he hesitantly approaches her and sits down next to her. Before he manages to say anything, she begins to share a personal memory with him without quite knowing why. Maybe it is her lack of sleep? Or her feeling of hopelessness. The memory is about how she was unable to help her parents when she was young, and that she thinks she is the reason why they died. She spent all her life as a journalist trying to help others in order to repent for this. But it looks like she is still as useless and unable to help others, in her words.

Norton listens intently and starts reflecting more over Alice and the time spent with her. He realises that she is nothing like what he thought she was. She might be just as broken as the rest of them, but she has a heart of gold, and she is honest and genuine; a breed of people he was not used to having around in his life and death. He reassures her that she is nothing of what she said she was, and that he was wrong about her. Slowly he opens up as well. Deep down he actually wants help, but is afraid to face it. She in turn reassures him that he doesn't have to face it alone and that she will help in every way she can. He just needs to be open for it.

They agree to try again; really try this time. But for the rest of the night, they just talk about everything and nothing. They talk until Alice falls asleep on the sofa. Norton stays with her for a while longer, studying her features in silence. He wished he could drape a blanket over her so she wouldn't be cold. He then beats himself up for even entertaining the idea that she is pretty. Eventually he leaves her in peace, but doesn't stray far away. They both feel better after this, and from there on out, their bond becomes stronger slowly over time.