#new dumb and perhaps stupid posts coming soon

[deathbyrose]

deleting most of my posts bc i don’t feel like making a new account <3

[badmoonriiising]

Regulus should have known following one of Barty's ideas was bad news. His friend is reckless. An idiot whose brain left him too soon. Not for nothing he's always posting those ridiculous pictures of him posing in front of the mirror showing off his bulky muscles. Stupid. Nobody really cares about his Instagram feed, except perhaps Evan.

It's just. Regulus is not built to be a gym person. He had dizziness the first time he went there, making his coach (some guy called Moody who's mad and looks like a bull) believe he didn't even have breakfast that day, thinking he was going through a clinical episode of anemia. His legs are so tiny they look like straws in his sports trunks. He doesn't know how to use the exercise machines. He's sore all the time. He lies about how many series and repetitions he does during arm day. And let's not forget the time he almost fell off the treadmill, distracted looking at this guy with killer abs and ignoring Braty's warning about speed increase.

He just laughed endlessly, until Regulus managed to turn off the fucking treadmill. That bastard, really. He keeps coming to this hell because he already paid for the month. It has nothing to do with abs guy looking so freaking hot, nor Regulus wanting to study anatomy with his body, running his tongue above every muscle.

Somehow, gym pictures are no longer dumb when they come with a boy with hazel eyes hiding behind a pair of glasses. Regulus would have a happy death if it comes with him being strangled between those thighs...

The day Regulus finally falls off the treadmill while distracted with his crush, is the day James Potter talks to him, running like a maniac to lift him from the floor. Regulus can not live with such embarrassment. Too bad he's not going back to the gym this time, because abs guy has been watching him with perhaps more interest than Regulus' this entire time.

[catt-nuevenor]

First off I was literally obsessed with your demo. It was actually the very first thing I ever read on dashington and I was basically inlove with all of the ROs.

That being said. As for the changes I've read through all the comments, asks and replies. And it's... different. Not necessarily bad just new I guess? Because it changes alot of the wonder I had experienced playing the demo. So it just feels weird I suppose?

No saying I won't read it, come on I love your writing. I practically word vomited my praises on tumblr as soon as I finished reading it the first time. And I get you said the old demo would still stay on but there's like.. no point if it's not gonna continue..? If that makes sense it's just then kind of incomplete?

I also for the most illogical reasons feel the same way as others when it comes to ROs being in relationships outside of MC. Like if they were already in a pre-existing relationship sure I get it! There are many stories like that if you don't choose to romance a character in the beginning they get back with an ex they broke up with or they are with someone else where you choose a route in like the very beginning. But again hear me out I'm completely stupid for this!!! But whenever I play a game where an RO then gets like with one of MCs friends on a different route it just fucks with my head for that LI. Like I then just see them with that other person. And have a fuck you attitude to that character aswell EVEN on a different route lmao it makes no sense! It's not logical! And it's dumb! But that's why I play fictional stories okay! So I don't hve to deal with shit like that. Don't judge me 😅🤣

Kay long tangent aside.. I guess what I'm saying is the new changes kinda scare me. But I'm keeping an open mind. I'd honestly read whatever you post because of how talented you are and yeah.. some of the ROs are probably gonna get a fuck you out of me for being in a different relationship and I'll probably not do that route because of how stupid my head is. So jesus I hope it isn't my fav LI 😭 but I'll still support you and I do wish you the best in the writing. I do love the story and I do like the addition of I guess more characters. Just the RO thing fucks with my head alil. I'm sorry if that's weird to some people.

I'm not making any sense just gonna go now... 🙈

Dear heck, I think this is the longest ask I've ever received. I didn't even know asks could be this long...

The changes will take a while for everyone to get used to, I think. But at least we'll all be in the same boat?

I do get the unsettling nature of seeing LIs romancing other characters while you're on alternate routes. The first one that springs to mind for me is Josephine in Dragon Age Inquisition. Seeing her fawn over Blackwall was weird. But, it made me realise how attached I was to her romance and hers alone, so it worked out in the long run.

Myrk Mire still isn't back on my working schedule yet, I'll let you all know when it is, and I'll try to keep you updated with WIP screenshots or planning doodles. Perhaps then I'll also give a bit more information on the dynamics of the LIs and the variables driving who makes eyes and who.

[projectnomoho]

Day 1 of making a dumb stupid huia mask for Halloween

This year, I have no costume for Halloween this year. I had no idea what to dress up as for my school's Halloween party. I could dress up as "totally normal average student", but that wouldn't make me stand out in such an event. I would at least want to find a way to make myself be noticed by people more, as I need to train my social skills and everything at school. My mind went completely blank when it came to thinking about plans and concepts... until I noticed the scrap paper that I had in my room from a recent package.

I was like, what if I tried to turn it into something like a mask? Even a mask can make a huge difference when it comes to costume parties. I took the pieces of paper out, and after a short period of brainstorming, I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to "dress up" as one of my favorite extinct birds - none other than the huia.

Why the huia, you may ask? Compared to all of the other extinct birds that I am a fan of, not many people would be close to knowing what I am "dressing up" as (like, would anyone know what the spectacled cormorant is unless I provide a long description as to what it is?), and by being the huia, a rather popular extinct bird, at least I know that people would have an easier time guessing the bird even if they had to guess. Besides, I can just make the excuse and said that I was inspired by the design of plague doctors (see concept art below).

After half an hour of rough planning, I started to work on the project. First, I tried mixing a bunch of glue and water together, shredded the paper to strips, and dipped them one by one into the water onto a tinfoil base (basically papier-mâché).

Here is an image of the mask prototype placed on the floor.

This plan, despite looking very successful at first, soon failed as the paper refused to stick together even though my glue water solution was at the right consistency. Perhaps the paper that I picked wasn't of the right type. Oh well, I threw the prototype into the trash, and tried to think of a new plan. I looked over to the cardboard that I had left behind from a previous package that I had received not too long ago. I used the cardboard and cut out the base for the mask, beak and all.

It doesn't look that good, but I will soon find a way to color it in and cut the eyeholes out! I will post a part 2 tomorrow!

[holding-hands-and-hearts]

Cody's Best One-Liners

There’s a piece of flimsi tacked to the wall, unassuming in a way that is casually acute and altogether too smug. The letters loop gracefully, but they point at the ends like a lighthearted jab.

Which, naturally, they are, because at the top of the flimsi in Obi-Wan’s dry-humored handwriting is written “Cody’s Best One-Liners.”

Cody never knows whether to laugh or grimace or roll his eyes, but for the life of him he doesn’t have the heart to take it down.

So it grows, an entry popping up every few days with the same amused devotion that plays in the twitches of the Jedi Master’s beard.

“Maybe a cough drop would do it.” And the admirals had glowered, but Obi-Wan hacked out a strangled laugh and suggested that perhaps, indeed, General Grievous could be persuaded to negotiate.

“If you leave them alone they’ll be glued together by the time anyone gets back.” Boil looked affronted, but Waxer had covered giggles behind his hands while Boil’s mask melted. They snorted, identically, and even the shinies had laughed.

“No need to call the demolition crew. Rex’s guys will take care of it.”

“You’re not confused, sir, you’re just wrong.”

“Wolfpack’s late again - I suppose General Koon really is serious about that parental quality time thing….”

“You are not excused from eating your rations unless the Force feeds you, which is exactly what I will do if you don’t.”

Obi-Wan takes great pleasure in adding to it. He saunters up to the flimsi almost lazily, a pen between his fingers, a loose grin coloring his cheeks, and pointedly does not look at Cody when he makes his little expansions. He just smiles, somewhere between stupid and knowing. It’s insufferably affectionate, and it drives Cody half-mad.

It’s safely in their joint apartment, the one the Jedi and the Marshal Commander accidentally share, so it’s not like someone will stumble in to see it. A private joke.

But Obi-Wan’s other great pleasure comes from dropping hints about it. “We ought to write that one down, Commander,” he’ll say, or “how I wish I were inspired enough to make even half of Cody’s quips.”

Most embarrassingly, he introduces them both to the new batch of shinies with “don’t be fooled by Cody’s formidable exterior. Our dear Commander has quite the sense of humor….” which makes Cody glad for his bucket. Wooley excuses himself and steps a safe distance away, where undoubtedly he can laugh without the shinies knowing.

But Cody looks back at it and can’t help feeling warm.

He sits on the tiny couch they share, in the common room between their separate bedrooms. There’s movement on the other side of the thin wall - Obi-Wan must be in the ‘fresher. His datapad is held in his lap; a cup of caf steams on the wobbly end table beside him.

Obi-Wan comes through the door, a cup of warm tea pressed into his palm, and settles next to Cody on the couch. The drink is herbal, subtle, a vaguely floral sweetness. There is something stronger underneath, solid and quietly bright.

“Cassius?” the commander asks, and cants his head towards the mug.

The Jedi hums. “The Mandalorians say it brings good health.”

Cody looks up, a wry smile and raised eyebrows and a soft tease. “I hope so, considering your vendetta against a full night’s sleep.”

Obi-Wan throws his head back and laughs, comfortably surprised. The sound is effortlessly joyful, and Cody wishes for that kind of peace. The general seems to carry it inside of him, as if it is woven into the essence of his flesh, his clothes, his beard, into the crabbed, gentle elegance of his handwriting.

Obi-Wan fumbles for a pen.

*******

212th for 212? More coming soon, hopefully :)

I wrote the beginning of this piece a few weeks ago and ran right into a wall. It took some effort to finish, but I do love this idea. If anyone's seen this post, yeah. I will never get over Cody's dumb f**king banter. Or Cody, in general.

I will, therefore, leave you with an alternate one-liner that *almost* made it in here. Wolfpack's late again - though I would be too if I had to organize a platoon's worth of Father's Day gifts for General Koon.

TBOBF in 3....

2....

1....

taglist: @sexy-rex @artemis98 @handsignals @ladysongmaster @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom

[scaramouche-bully]

THAT POST ABOUT OVERSTIM MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I WANT TO DESTROY CHILDE HELP. CAN U WRITE SMTH WHERE HIS S/O USUALLY BOTTOMS BUT WANTS TO TRY TOPPING HIM AND HE JUST KEEPS TRYING TO FLUSTER HER AND TEASE HER AND SHE GETS SO ANNOYED THAT SHE JUST FUCKS HIM STUPID 💕💕

— ☆ Wrecking T*rtaglia headcanons

Includes: Childe

[ Top ] Female reader

Contains: Overstimulation, bratty sub, mind break, sub space, aphrodisiacs, anal gaping, dacryphilia, degradation, size kink, slapping, choking, cock-stepping, humiliation, rough sex, stomach bulge, multiple orgasms, masochism + sadism.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  

— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe 🐑 [ GN ]

[ masterlist ]

Welcome to the "Bully T*rtaglia" club, we are currently taking applications (u‿ฺu✿ฺ). My original draft was sweet but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. So I'm going to channel all my anger into destroying this man (consensually, I promise the ending is soft.).

— ☆ Childe

When you bring up the idea of you topping him, he doesn't take you seriously but he's open to it. While he thinks it's cute that you want to try new things, he's so much bigger than you, and being on top is actually a lot of work compared to being a pillow princess. Are you sure you can handle it?

One of the big issues that came up during your first times was Childe's competitive nature and how fast his recovery time was. He could have came three times and then suddenly flip you on your back and fuck your brains out instead.

Even when he had the patience to be the sub, he would constantly taunt you and be an insufferable brat. Constantly disrespecting you and trying to fluster you. Always reaching down to finger fuck you even when he was stuffed full.

So the next time you brought him a drink, you decided to add something extra. Sitting patiently as he thanked you and downed the entire cup. It only took a few minutes before he began to squirm in his seat.

Childe's face was slowly growing redder and redder, soft pants breaking through the quiet office, his eyes darting to you before settling on the ground. It was amusing seeing him be so quiet rather than running his mouth off every minute. It's only when you start to walk over him in feign concern does he break out of his haze.

Stumbling over himself as he makes wild hand gestures to stop you but as soon as you round his desk, you see his cock straining against his pants, and the embarrassment flood Childe's face. Trying to laugh it off, you're just so pretty he can't help himself, but he's quickly cut off when you prop yourself up onto his desk and step on his cock.

"W-Wait-" Childe groans as his hips buck into your shoe as he grinds against it. Clutching the hand rests of his chair as he leans his head against your knee, soft keens slipping out as you run your fingers through his matted hair as he humps against you. He makes a confused noise when you suddenly tip his chin up, smile sweetly at him, before he's sprawled on the ground as you slap him.

"When did I say you could touch me?" you shot him a cruel look that sent shudders up his spine but also made his cock throb. Whatever you fed him was slowly making him lose his senses until there was just you, you, you. He whines, still on his back, when you take a seat in his chair and dig your shoe onto his dick, randomly applying pressure here and there, his pre-cum wetting his pants as he yelps at the pain. His hands flying up to lift your foot away but he catches himself as chooses to claw his fingers into the wooden flooring instead as he reaches his peak. It's so empowering seeing the man who used to fuck you stupid, whimper and cry as he cums in his pants just from you stepping on his dick.

"P-Please...ah! mm...wha?" Childe looks down confused to see that even after just orgasming, his cock is still hard. His body is so hot that if he doesn't cum again, he feels like he's going to die. He's tries to lift himself onto his elbows and unbutton his pants before you kick him in the chest and send him back down. He's disorientated from the fall when he feels you sit on his chest, cupping his face in your hands to lift him, before slamming his head down. You're almost ripping his hair out with every yank and slap you abuse him with as he yelps like a dog.

"You filthy whore. Did I say you could cum? You ungrateful brat," you spit out as Childe wails in pain, almost knocking you off when he seizes up and shakes. You don't even need to check to know he came again, "Maybe I should gag you and throw you onto the streets. Let everyone here know how much of a pig you are. Is that it what you want?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" his voice is choked up from his tears as he cries over himself. You almost feel bad but he's basically useless in this state, sniffling over himself as he apologizes over and over again. You softly coo at him as you lean over and kiss him sweetly, taking his arms and placing them on your waist as he grips onto you like a lifeline.

"There there Childe. It's alright now, we're going to teach you how to be a good boy. That's what you want right?" you whisper to him as he nods. You pull yourself up even as he grips onto your clothing to stay with him as you unclasp the buttons of his pants and free his cock. Still red and hard in your hands as if he hadn't already orgasmed twice in the span of a few minutes. He's already so wet with pre-come that you don't even need to find lube to jack him off. Ignoring his moans and screams to stop, he's still sensitive, you take him to the hilt in your mouth. Quickly pinning his hips from jerking upwards and choking you, you're the image of content as you swallow around his cock as Childe throws his head back and sobs as he cums down your throat.

“Pl-please, please, mmn- put it in me, please…” he manages to pant you, his mind melted as his eyes blink in and out of consciousness. His body is still burning hot and he can't escape the feeling of being empty. He wants to be filled with your cock, stuffed fill until he can't live without being fucked by you. You've completely ruined him.

"It seems we still have a long way to go. You really are a disappointment Childe," you sigh as you wipe away the stray cum dripping from your mouth as you reach over and feed it to him. He whines low in the throat at tasteing himself but feeling you touch him in some way is the only thing grounding him before you pull away and stand up, "Go on. Finger yourself open for me."

"W-Wha?"

"Childe. I said. Finger yourself open. I won't repeat myself again."

He quickly nods, not ready to disobey you again, as he lifts himself up to get his pants fully off. He knows what you want and it makes the fire in him burn hotter. Using his own pre-come with shaky hands, he reaches over to hold his legs up for you, and circles around his rim before dipping inside. The embarrassment of holding himself open like this and your watchful gaze almost has him cumming again but he can't. He wants to be good. He does his best to spread himself open at this awkward angle but he soon loses himself. He should feel ashamed for getting off on someone watching him but it makes him finger himself deeper and harder. He's taken out of his pleasurable moment when he feels your hand join his. Taking one hand as you spread his ass to see his loose hole. The pre-cum from his cock slowly leaking down. You're absentmindedly lacing your fingers inside him, before pulling both your hands out as you line your strap on to his rim. He didn't even notice you put it on.

"Did you know I had to fake every orgasm because you were such a sloppy fuck? Perhaps I should show you how to fuck someone properly," is the only warning he gets before you grip his hips until your fingernails draw blood, before slamming into him. He throws his head back and chokes on his screams as his cock shoots cum all over his chest.

"Who said you could come?" you spit out as you grip his cock and squeeze harshly as he screams. The overstimulation is too much, it hurts. He's desperately trying to push you away but whatever strength he built is lost. Only able to lay there and take it. He looks down to see his stomach bulge with every thrust you make, the image of you rearranging his insides sends him flying as he tries to cum again but the death grip you have on him, he just can't. He's full-on sobbing as you continue to abuse his prostate, he's going to break, you're breaking him.

"nO! P-PLEASE! STO-" he begging as you continue to pound into him. You push even further, until your cock fully inside him now, and stay there rubbing right up against his prostate. Watching amused as Childe tries to shudder to the large intrusion, the never-ending pressure on his sensitive spots makes him almost feral. You swear he has hearts in his eyes right now.

"Pleasepleaseplease-"

You pull out slowly, just until the tip is inside him, before gripping his wrists as leverage and ruthless slamming into him. Childe parts his hips in a voiceless cry as you finally break his mind and fuck him dumb. He scrambles against the floor as he tries to find anything to ground him, trying to fuck himself back on your cock as he drools all over the floor. His vision leaves him as all his senses focused on the harsh drag of your cock in him, the wet slapping noise that fills the room, and the tears that slip from his eyes down to the floor. His cock throbs with each thrust you force into his body, thighs jerking, as his tongue lolls out.

"Oh!--mh, m-more!" Childe babbles deliriously, he's being reduced to nothing but a warm hole for you to fill whenever you feel like it. Reduced from a harbinger to a whore for you to use. He feels the breath get punched out of his lungs as his abdomen stretches and burns. His hole clenching around your dick that you have to forcefully yank him down to stuff him, "Hahh, you're tearing me o-open."

"You disgusting whore. Can you feel it?" you mock as you take one hand to spread his ass apart, you see his hole is red and puffy, pre-cum from his semi-hard cock leaking down where you're both connected. He shudders that you've fucked him so bad that his hole is gaping. It's when you reach over and clasp both of your hands around his neck and squeeze that he comes crashing down. Wheezing at the lack of oxygen that makes him see white, he feels so warm and content, mind filled with bliss, as he cums. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into him as his cock finally softens as he relaxes and drifts off into space before slowly losing consciousness.

--- You slowly blink awake to soft kisses being placed on your neck, Childe's lazy form cuddled up to you as you stroke his hair. He's always so clingy the morning after. "Are you feeling alright? I was a bit mean wasn't I?" you ask a bit embarrassed as memories of last night flood your mind. You know you both agreed on what your limits were but you couldn't help but feel a bit worried you may have pushed him too far. Childe props himself on his elbow to smile dumbly at you, you were perfect.

"It was alright I suppose," he chuckles when you lightly punch him in the chest, "I didn't think you would try and drug me like that. You know I could get you arrested for that. " "Ha! Good luck finding someone that will fulfill your perverted fantasies. Besides you're the one that wanted to experiment with them and don't phrase it like that either," you shake your head at him before leaning up to kiss him. When you pull away you take notice of all the bruises and marks you left on him. There's a small part of you that purrs at the claim you made but you quickly shoo it away. It's too early for that. If your back is hurting you have no idea how Childe is faring. "Here, let me get you some water and let me see your head," you offer, pulling yourself up before Childe's arm wraps around you and pulls you down to lay beside him. Placing his weight on top of you so you can't squirm away, even as you swat at his back he smothers you until you give up.

"Stay with me."

"Hah...alright. Just for a bit."

[jiracheer]

authors note: sorry for not posting requests n what not. I needed to write this piece as a form of self comfort </3

reader uses she/her pronouns, wanted to try something new! reader is also an artist :]

tags: a bit angsty, but ends on a good note!

She was beyond frustrated, but not exactly angry. Maybe upset? She wasn't sure. It was so hard figuring out how she felt and perhaps it made her even more confused about the whole thing.

"I just can't do it!" Tossing her laptop to the side onto the plush bed she had claimed that evening, she drew her knees to her chest. Squeezing her legs closely to her frame with heavy sigh through her nostrils, shame and embarrassment washed over her. She was overreacting. She knew she was, but she couldn't help but react the way she was.

Glancing back over at the drawing displayed on the screen of her laptop, a look of disgust settled deeply on her typically soft face. She had spent so long on it and put every ounce of herself into it as well, and yet, it wasn't looking good to her. And she needed this piece out soon.

Before she could even get angry again, a sudden smack of insecurities hit her over the head. Why wasn't she getting it? She had a reference, she had spoken to her friends about the piece, even got their insight! But it just. Wasn't sticking. It wasn't looking good. Then she just had to make a scene and pull away from them.

She was ridiculous.

"Dearest? I'm home!"

An oh-so familiar voice rung through the apartment she shared with her lover, and the stress that hung heavily on her shoulders lifted just slightly. "I'm in the room, Ingo." She croaked out, pushing herself off the bed to greet her husband halfway through. Sinking into his arms as he embraced her she nuzzled her face into his chest as he gave her a good squeeze. Lifting her slightly off the ground to make her giggle before settling her back down, brushing a gloved hand over her cheek in the process.

"How was your day, hm? Oh. You look tired... Were you just resting? I am terribly sorry if I woke you." Ingo looked as if he was caught doing something wrong and stroked your cheek, gazing at you with so much love and affection you almost began to cry on the spot.

"Hm? Oh. No, no. Not at all Ingo, I just... I dunno. It's so stupid." She sighed, rubbing at her face. Tears of frustration were already building in her eyes. "It's dumb."

"I'm sure it isn't, my dove." Bringing her again into his embrace, Ingo swayed her gently side to side. "Talk to me. I'm here to listen to you, and to make sure you're well. What kind of husband would I be if I couldn't make your worries go away?" With a kiss to the top of her head, the Subway Boss rested his cheek on her head. "But if you prefer not to talk about it, we can go find something to do. We can go watch that movie you like so much-"

She began to sniffle, feeling so touched by his words. "I... I." She swallowed the lump in her throat, "I wanna talk about it. I just ask that you don't judge me, because. I think I'm still a bit raw about it all."

Ingo nodded silently as he guided her to their bed, sitting next to her with her hands in his own. "I have no reason to judge you." Nodding to let his wife know that he was ready to listen, she took in a deep breath to begin.

"I guess I got really frustrated over this art piece I was working on. I mean, I've been at it for hours. You knows this... I've been sending you w.i.ps when I could, and as much as I loved your feedback." Her smile dwindled as her insecurities crawled up her back. "I couldn't take it. I hate the piece, and I hate my art in general, Ingo. I feel like I'm not where I'm supposed to be, and all of my friends are way ahead of me, I mean. They draw so well and I don't at times. Look at Burgh! He's come so far and it comes so naturally to him, why can't that happen to me-?" Choking up on her words, she shook her head. "I'm jealous of him, of all my art friends, which is so selfish of me, but it's the truth."

She continued on her tangent, going on and on about the thoughts that caused her such distress before sighing through her mouth. She looked more tired, a bit worn out, and possibly even burnt out.

"My sunlight... I'm so sorry you feel this way, truly. It pains me to see you in such a way. I wish I could simply grab that feeling from you, and take it away." Ingo began as he stroked her knuckles with his thumbs. "I love you deeply and think you are a fantastic artist! Now, before you interrupt me, I mean it sincerely. Even before we met I thought you were a stunning creator! Your ideas are unique, your strokes and style scream your name. Whenever I get a chance to see your art I am filled with joy, and you inspire me to be the best that I can be with my own job. Which sounds odd since we both work in different professions, but your art is simply that impactful.

"What I'm trying to say is... It will be difficult for you to get over this mental hurdle, but I know you'll be able to get through it because I'll be here to help you every step of the way. As will your friends! Why don't we look at the sketch together, hm? See what we can change and adjust? And if you still don't like it at the end... That's fine! We can move along and start something new. How does that sound?"

Gracing her with one of his rare smiles, Ingo reaches upwards to grab the back of her neck to gently bring her head down to kiss her forehead. That starts the waterworks. All the pent up emotions came out with ease as she sniffled and sobbed in front of her husband. His support meant the world to her and him being so patient with her meant even more, she couldn't help but throw her arms around him to embrace the silver haired man.

"T-Thank you Ingo, I'd love that. Really I would. It would mean a lot." She wept into his shoulder, sinking into him as he rubbed her back.

"Then we'll get to it... After you take a break. I'll go get takeout from your favorite restaurant, and we'll spend the rest of the evening relaxing. Come morning we'll face this head on." The conductor rose to his feet, hands still holding hers with a fond smile.

With one final nod from her, Ingo let go of her hands and pulled out his phone to get the order started as he left the room. She could hear him instruct his Pokemon to go comfort her while he was gone, and a large smile replaced her sad features when she heard Crustle's familiar clunks were met with Excadrill's complaints towards the bug-rock Pokemon for ruining the surprise, meanwhile Chandelure was already singing a song for her as they entered the room.

Leaning back on the bed, she felt more at peace. More at ease. And with one final glance at her laptop screen, to gaze at the drawing, she no longer felt frustrated. But hopeful.

[glowingbadger]

Okay folks, get ready for a Modern Au Fluffy Megapost~

Firstly, Sylvain and Dimitri have gotten a fluff post already that you can see here if you like! I'll think about whether I have anything to add that would be relevant to a Modern AU for them, but their sections are gonna be shorter as a result.

Yuri, Felix, Ashe x GN Reader

Fluffy relationship headcanons - SFW

Yuri:

- At first, it's not really in Yuri's base nature to be soft and gentle towards a lover. "Delicate" in the cunning, teasing sense, perhaps- but vulnerable and kind? Less so. Which is why it's a bizarre feeling for him when he finds himself wanting to be softer to you- wanting to comfort you and hold you and protect you. He doesn't really know what to do with this new-found tenderness at first, but it will start to manifest in how he treats you despite himself. His tone is completely different with you, he smiles to himself whenever he checks his phone to see you've messaged him, he starts saving songs you mention to listen to later- he simply can't help it.

- He won't let on that he's got quite a lovely singing voice for some time (he intentionally doesn't audition for musicals)- but one night, as your head rests on his lap as he reviews a script for the next play on campus that he's performing in, he starts quietly humming to himself. He stops as soon as he realizes you've noticed, but you carefully say, "I'm... pretty sure I recognize that song- how does the rest go?" He indulges you, humming the rest, even peppering in some of the lyrics. But by the end, he smiles with a quirked eyebrow and pokes your cheek playfully, "Don't think you fooled me with that line earlier- you couldn't repeat a single note of that song, you were just goading me into singing it."

- After this though, he does treat you to a song or two whenever you're upset or not feeling well. He knows that, with all of the complex and duplicitous relationships he's left behind him, it's a relief to finally have something he can give you that he's never willingly given to a partner before. So when you're sick or stressed or dealing with a mental health issue, he'll stroke your hair and sing softly to you, the quiet smile you wear tugging sweetly at his heart.

Dimitri:

(most of my thoughts are in the link above)

- Dimitri loves doing boyfriend tasks for you, like carrying heavy things (really any things) for you, reaching the top shelf, opening jars (he has broken one or two), and so on. He's the type to make sure to hold the umbrella over you even if it means he gets rained on.

- He's a clumsy texter, and his messages to you are always full of type-o's and ridiculous auto-corrects. He also has every voicemail you've ever left him saved on his phone and will listen to them when he hasn't seen you for a while.

Sylvain:

(once again, he's in the link up there)

- He sends you stupid memes of animals with "this is us" typed below. Most of his signs of affection are dumb and cute but goofy like that, and getting him to actually level with you and express his genuine love and care for you can be pretty rare.

- Sylvain secretly likes romcoms, like, a lot. He tries to brush it off, saying, "Oh you know, I've just seen a lot of them on dates." but his encyclopedic knowledge of their plots and cast suggest otherwise. Once he fesses up to you though, he refuses to meet your gaze and mutters, "it's just.. nice sometimes to think that a relationship can actually be like that, y'know?"

Felix:

- He's so bad at being soft, but he wants to be for you, but also doesn't want to be because ew feelings. Which he has a lot of. This is why the main way he expresses his affection is through physical contact. It's mostly in private, where he can be super cuddly with you- but in public, he'll still find times to lightly brush his hand against yours, or an excuse to "fix" your hair, mumbling, "It's flying all over the place, hold still-" even though it's really not that out of place, he just wants a reason to touch you.

- Felix is a funny one to bring your problems to. He's actually a surprisingly good listener for someone he cares about, so he's happy to just hold onto your hand and listen to you vent about whatever's bothering you. If it's an interpersonal problem, he'll probably offer to confront or straight up fight whoever is giving you trouble, which might at least get you to laugh, even though he fully means it. But for a more serious problem, he'll quietly wipe away your tears and remind you, "Hey, listen- you just... keep living your life as you, okay? You can't be anyone else, and I don't want you to be."

- He secretly loves it when you play with his hair. While he's studying or gaming, he likes to lean back against the edge of his bed or a couch and have you sitting behind him brushing out his hair, or even braiding or pulling it up for him if you like. He finds your touch incredibly soothing, and there have even been times when he's spaced out a bit and completely forgotten what he was doing because he was just enjoying your nails along his scalp and your fingers through his hair. Honestly, it's a bit like scratching a cat's ears- he'll even subconsciously lean against you if he's not careful.

Ashe:

- 'soft' is Ashe's default state in a relationship, and it is just the cutest. He wears his affections openly on his sleeve, and if you're upset or unwell, his concern is completely obvious. When you're sick, he'll immediately start looking up your symptoms and any possible solutions, and he's always got extra pillows and blankets to lend you. He knows your favorite snacks and movies by heart, and always has them on hand for off-days.

- He loves cooking for you, and cooking with you, if you're into it. There's something so intimate and domestic about making and enjoying meals together, and he has an uncanny way of making the best of even a crappy little college dorm/apartment kitchenette. Though, you're going to have to set some strict boundaries with your friends about date nights, because if you let them, your friends and his will swarm to his cooking and mooch off of the fruits of your labor- and we all know Ashe is too nice to say no.

- Ashe absolutely wants to own a pet with you. Perhaps even before moving in together, he'll help you select a small, low maintenance pet, and he'll always be delighted to come visit it and help you take care of it. If you're living together, he definitely wants a cat or a small dog, and he's a total pet-dad about it. He'll give them cute little bandanas to wear, experiment with which brand of food they seem to like best and so on. He gets a bit shy if you tease him about his doting, but ultimately, he'll just kiss your cheek or forehead and say, "I just want to take care of you both as best I can, that's all."

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

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

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[arcadejohn127-9]

Sorry the post reached its word limit so I have to add the undateables in a different post! Happy valentine's everyone!!!

Pt.1 = Demon brother's

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Mini golf, it was both surprising and unsurprising

He was able to ditch the suit he wore normally to more comfortable clothes

Enjoying the strange golf courses Wincing everytime he shot one too far and completely lost the ball

You were getting better scores than him and he a better player!

"will you guide me on this one? I think I'm going to hit it too hard again."

You smiled, happily moving behind him and putting your hands on his

You helped him control his swing and to no surprise it was a perfect shot

"perhaps I should guide you every turn, you're a pro."

"if it isn't (Y/N), who's this? I don't think we've met."

"go away, I don't have time for you."

Dia immediately recognised your ex, hiding his annoyance behind a smile and shook their hand

"I'm their boyfriend, we're currently on a date, so if you'll excuse us."

He tried to usher you both along but your ex grabbed his hand

"let's not end this so soon, I was close with them, don't you want to share stories?"

"No-"

"I'll go first, as an ex wanting to help you out! Don't bring up a single issue to them, they won't help you at all, they always told me I was overreacting."

You groaned, clutching your golf club tightly

"because you were, threatening to hit me over not wanting to hear you complain about your side girls not texting you back is an overreaction."

"always spinning stories! This what I mean, you just need to be prepared to be in that kind of relationship with them, they'd only Respond to yelling."

"you're the only one who would listen when yelled to and would just yell at me because you could, you're a horrible person and you should leave right now-"

You wanted to hit them with your golf club, fuming at how they talked about you

"they've been very good to me and I've never had to raise my voice at them, perhaps you were the issue."

His voice was still so kind that your ex almost didn't realize what he said

"such a shame they've already gotten to you - oh we need to move, watch me play okay?"

They winked at the demon, strutting off to their new golf site

"let's play but I won't bother you to guide me."

"it's no bother-"

Dia took a strong strike, the ball flying off and hit your ex in the head

But another flying golf ball was already being sent their way

"Sorry! You just look like target with seeing how much you open for mouth, here I'll give you my club as an apology."

He 'accidentally' did it too hard and sent his club flying in their direction, they just missed it

They screamed at him for being crazy but he just kept his sweet smile

"so you're actually a great shot on your own."

"guilty, I just wanted you to hold me."

Barbatos:

Aquarium, it feels fitting seeing he's also a serpent demon .

You held his gloved hand, pointing out towards the colourful fish that caught your fancy

"there are remarkable species I'm sure you've yet to have seen in the Devildom, Perhaps I'll take you to see them."

"really??!! I'd love to!"

He admired the dolphins that swam across the open space around the hallway, watching the way it delved back into the water

"this is embarassing, is that really you?!"

"oh no...."

"it is! When I found you disappeared I thought it was because of me! But here you are and with you're- whoever this is."

"I'm the boyfriend."

He nudged you away from your ex, his mood already sour

"boyfriend?! Already...? What a shame you moved on so quickly, I've been thinking about you."

They caressed the side of your cheek but you just slapped their hand away

"yeah right, leave us alone - I don't want to be around you."

"don't even think about insulting them, are you really going to bring up the past as a way to hurt them just because they've refused you?"

"h-huh-?! What are you- I wouldn't do such a thing!"

"oh...? So you weren't thinking of bringing up the time they use to 'love' you Touching them and was just 'shy' about it? Knowing it'll get a rise because you know that they didn't like your touch."

"how did you-?!"

"I know alot about you and what you plan to do, it would best you step away now before I set your fate in stone - swimming with the fishes."

He towered over them, their back pressing against the tank glass,

their eyes glancing to the fishes behind them

They let out a nervous laugh

"right....well I'll be going then, goodbye (Y/N)."

Solomon:

A fire works show - meant you could spend the mornings doing whatever you want but the night?

That's when you two went Speeding

You kept your scarf close to your face, it being a chilly night

You kept your hand intertwined with your boyfriend's, in awe at the fireworks

"They're not very close are they? i could make fireworks."

He shook his star wand, you were thankful it looked like a toy

"Sol, you can't just use magic when there's a small inconvenience."

"fireworks-!"

Soon enough fireworks came bursting out closer to where you two stood, still a safe distance away but seeing as you didn't get the best spot in the crowd

It was much cooler to see them closer

"No way!!! You're back in town?! I thought you left for good!"

It was almost hard to hear your ex over the fireworks

Solomon gave them the side eye as he clutched your hand

"I know have devastated you were after the breakup, seriously didn't think you'd disappear, I bet that you died or something!"

"do you have nothing better to do?! I'm trying to enjoy the fireworks with my boyfriend."

"Him?! You going for witchy hippies?! Wooow your taste has just stayed shit, hasn't it?! This is why you need me back, I actually gave you good taste!"

"You made me listen to country rap that all sung about beating women - I've upgraded!"

You shuffled closest to Solomon, ignoring your ex as they kept trying to pester you

"Can you stop being such a- are you kidding me?! You're never going to change- don't - ignore- you stupid bi-"

The more they began to yell the more powerful fireworks Solomon set off

Almost completely blocking out you exes screams

It got to the point there had to be a fireworks break due to how hectic it got

"this is dumb, I'm leaving." They huffed as you continued to ignore them

"how fortunate, I'm sure I could of started a fire from all that."

"like a fire would of stopped you, thanks for blocking them out."

He kissed your cheek, smiling

"my pleasure~"

Simeon:

He took you ice skating, unfortunately you were terrible at it whilst he was fine

You were both wrapped up warm as he helped you skate across the rink

Your legs wobbled and you slid to face your almost fell over

"hahah, you're adorable but don't worry, you'll be a master of it by the end of tonight."

You slowly got the hang of it, gripping his arm whilst he just smiled, enjoying being so close to you

"i think I got it-! Wait no no no don't let go!"

Just as your small victory gave you a big smile it immediately dropped when your ex skidded over

"What are you odds of you being here, I see you still can't skate."

"so what? You want to bother me about skating? Why not go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone."

They just laughed

"so insistent, if that's what you want~"

They skated past you, bumping into you and you immediately went flying into the ice

Happy you kept your hands close to your face as another skater zoomed by

Simeon hastily helped you back up, dusting Ice off you

"Let's sit down, maybe they won't be here for long."

He helped you off the ice and you both sat on a bench, he got you a warm drink before sitting down

But it wasn't over, your ex coming to where you were sitting still in the rink

"sorry about that, it was a total accident I swear - tell me (Y/N), what made you come here? I bet you were stalking my page again, wanted to see me?"

"no, I just wanted to have a date with my boyfriend."

"It would be best you left us alone, your presence clearly isn't wanted."

"neither was your opinion, from past lover to new, watch yourself because they will destory your heart and your life - nothing will ever be comfortable or happy with them."

"that is untrue-"

"really? Is it? We all know they just like to use people for their kindness and leave them because of a stupid mistake - don't you understand what parties do to people? Huh?! I'm glad I got with her at that party because she's a better partner than you ever were."

You pounded the side of your first to the table, glaring at them with tears in your eyes

"you cheated on me and blames it on alcohol, when I forgave you - it only made you feel happy to keep going back to her! Don't talk to me like you're the victim-!"

Simeon, rubbed your back, frowning at your ex

Your ex just scoffed, skating off

Your boyfriend suddenly stood up and began to march over to the rink

You tried to ask what he was doing but he didn't respond, quickly skating over to your ex

When he caught up he skidded so far they got covered in ice, grabbed your ex with a smile

And suddenly, you didn't see what happened but your ex screamed, darting off the Ice trying to get away from Simeon

When he finally came back he took a sip of your drink and smiled

"let's head back on the ice, I still have to make you a pro."

[starkerotic]

i melt in your mouth, girl, not in your hands. [part 1]

[based on the stress-baking prompt from this au post.]

If anyone had asked Bucky only three years before, he never would have thought that he would eventually end up here, back in the same apartment complex from his youth - updated and much more expensive than the fifty dollars or so he remembers Steve’s mother fretting over so many times before she died, his own mother patting Sarah’s frail hands as she reassured her that everything would work out in the end, but very much the same.

(It’s… comforting, in a way he’s not felt since he went off to The War, pride in his heart and fear buried deep below, his mother’s tears wet on his cheek and the warmth of Steve’s farewell - or, at least, see you soon, as it turned out - hug still surrounding him, his heart beating strong, as quick as a hummingbird’s wings, as he boarded the bus and sat with the other men ready to lay their lives on the line for their country and their god and their loved ones.)

“Buck! Open up, I’ve got pizza!”

New floors, news appliances, new owners… same old Steve. (Well, still a punk that picks fights too big for him, anyway.)

“If you knock down my door again, you’re explaining to Stark why he’s paying for the same damage a third time.” He doesn’t have to raise his voice much louder than his normal speaking volume. Steve’s enhanced hearing is just as good as his own - even better, perhaps; he is, after the original super soldier, while Bucky’s serum was hardly more than a diluted mimicry with a side of mind control.

Steve’s big, dumb grin greets him once the door opens, as bright and carefree and happy as Bucky remembers from before The Fall and before The War and after Bucky could hear his trigger words (longing, rusted, seventeen…) and keep his mind his own. (Once upon a time, that stupid grin would have fluttered his heart, sent his pulse a little higher, set his smile a little wider, but too many things have changed between them for Bucky to feel that same connection now.)

“I don’t think he’d mind, because it means I’m not busy-” Steve frowns, carefully setting all four pizza boxes down on Bucky’s small kitchen island. “-‘killing his vibe’.”

The pleasant aroma of chocolate chip cookies (it’s been faint all evening, but with the door open, it hits him full-force) drifts from the apartment across the hall, just like it used to when he and Steve were boys and one of their mothers (and, in one disastrous incident, Bucky’s sister) had enough spare ingredients and time to bake a baker’s dozen or two. It makes Bucky long (longing, rusted, seventeen…) for those days so far gone, when things were bad but never dismal and his mother’s soft humming and his sister’s giddy laughter rang through the halls, sweet and familiar and-

The door snaps shut, Bucky’s vibranium fingers curling over the wooden frame. It does nothing to remove the scent of the other tenant’s baking, but he feels better with the flimsy barrier.

“Buck?”

Sleek metal shines in the light as Bucky releases the frame and flexes his fist for a moment, careful to take the deep breaths his court-appointed therapist (and, god, what a joke that is, expecting him to open up to a woman with no idea of where he comes from, of what used to make him Bucky that the serum and HYDRA stole away from him) recommended in their first session. It never helps, not really (he has too much anger built up, he surmises, ready to boil and burn and destroy in all the same ways he was once ordered to by both his own government and the enemy), but he’s trying.

“Sorry,” rasps Bucky. He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat, but offers no excuse or explanation for his behavior. (He doesn’t owe anyone anything - not even Steve.)

The grin isn’t quite as wide anymore, but the blond doesn’t look like he’s readying himself to attack, so Bucky moves nearer, flesh hand reaching for the nearest box: a simple cheese with extra sauce. “Thanks,” Bucky mutters and downs half a slice in one bite, the cheese almost too hot, the sauce with the exact right consistency and flavor. The simple pie is Bucky’s (unofficial) favorite, a reminder that not everything has changed.

“Any time.” Steve stares at him for a few moments longer - long enough that Bucky’s back stiffens - but he only offers Bucky a slice of a second pizza (red peppers and ricotta and Italian sausage) before he holds up the stack of boxes he’s supporting with his left hand. “I’ve got Sorry! and Scrabble and,” he sighs, put-upon in a way only Steve Rogers can be, “Clue - the Avengers version.”

Bucky snorts, and his muddled mind clears of familiar feminine laughter and warm chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s always the Widow.”

*

(Natasha, in fact, is the culprit two times out of three. Bucky has more fun in the two hours they play, bullshitting his questions and pretending to think much too long on Steve’s when he only has one of the answers to give up, than he’s had since he first woke from his programming.)

*

Steve has been gone for at least fifteen minutes when there’s a knock at his door.

“I told you the last slice was mine when you left, punk, so don’t-”

He’s let the familiar surroundings lull him into what bit of security he can still feel because, rather than Steve on his doorstep, it’s… Well, he isn’t positive who it is, but judging by the open door across from him and the overwhelming scent of home and freshly-baked cookies, Bucky makes an assumption. “You must be the baker.” His words are gruff, but he tries to keep his tone level and as kind as he can make it without his usual scowl creeping over his face.

Perfectly rosy cheeks look to darken even further as his neighbor looks up from Bucky’s chest, surprise and awe appearing and disappearing, quick as a flash across his face. Brown eyes (they remind Bucky of autumn, of warm days and cool nights and leaves crunching along a woodland trail) widen for only a moment on the black-and-gold vibranium weapon that serves as his arm.

Bucky braces himself for a flurry of questions about the arm, the Avengers, Captain America-

“I’m sorry. Do the smells bother you?” Perfectly straight teeth, pearly white except for the slightest smudge of chocolate on the left canine, show in a nervous smile. He hides his eyes, ducking his head just enough to avoid Bucky’s, as he rambles, “I’m really sorry about that; it’s just an easy way for me to destress, I guess - ha - and I didn’t think it would be an issue with anyone because I usually bake a ton and give them to everyone in the building and-”

“It’s not a problem,” Bucky interrupts, and the other man smiles and- Wow. Bucky can’t remember ever seeing another person so delighted and… cute.

“You’re sure?” Cute Neighbor asks. His arms shift, muscles flexing just the tiniest bit as he tightens his grip around a Tupperware container in his hands.

Bucky takes a moment (two, three, four…) to soften his features, to relax his tense shoulders and look less likely to snap someone’s neck. “Positive,” he reassures and, just to see those cheeks pinken up a second time, he winks. “Reminds me of home.”

The blush comes along with another smile, bright and kind and much less big and dumb than the one Steve had greeted him with earlier, though a tinge of sadness dulls it. “Same,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before he startles and shoves the Tupperware out in front of him in an offering to Bucky - homemade cookies for the feared Winter Soldier. “Everyone else has already gotten theirs,” he tells Bucky. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go without.”

And that’s just-

Bucky’s chest expands on a breath, holds… and releases. “Thanks, doll.” The endearment slips out like it’s nothing, as easy as it always used to back in the forties.

His neighbor only laughs, a little breathless, and says, “I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” before going on his way, blessing Bucky with one last smile before he shuts the door to his apartment.

Peter Parker.

The cookies are a small taste of whatever heaven may exist after this life, the chocolate chips melting as soon as the cookie touches his tongue, and Bucky can’t help but to hope that Peter finds himself stressed again sooner rather than later.

[herstroywritten]

Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

 "Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

 Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

 He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

 "I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

 "You really hate being here, don't you?"

 In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

 Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

 And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was  the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and  gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck. 

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news,  and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear. 

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death. 

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders. 

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted. 

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night. 

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could. 

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes. 

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.) 

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

[janetbrown711]

Princess Angelina II was never fond of being told what to do.

Ever since she was a little girl, she loved being defiant. However, her parents were strict and had their ways of forcing her to do things anyway, so she adapted. If her parents wanted her to study? Fine, then she would read every book in the library and become far more intelligent than most of her teachers and would “smart ass” them constantly. Of course, her parents disapproved, but Angelina knew they technically couldn’t punish her this way, as she was doing what they asked after all. Still, she was aware that she was treading on thin ice, but she continued anyway, as it felt like the only thing keeping her sane. 

It was this mentality she carried with her during her least favorite activity of all: 

Meeting Suitors. 

The moment Angelina turned 16, her mother began arranging meeting after meeting with different princes and noblemen, all of which she hated. They were always so prideful and stuffy, they never had a sense of joy or humor in them. So, as was natural for her, she never refused to see them, but while they talked she’d always attack their pride and make sure they never wanted to see her again. She had hoped her actions would’ve given her a reputation as an “ineligible princess” but alas, rumors of her beauty and singing kept them coming. 

And so today Angelina found herself preparing yet again to meet with another boring suitor, this time a prince who was soon coming of age and was to rule the neighboring kingdom fo Ticktockia. Angelina spent several weeks reading up on the history of the country, as well as learning their customs, and knew she was ready by the time he arrived. 

“I don’t want you to play any funny games this time, Angelina. Ticktockia is a very important ally, and I don’t want you embarrassing my good name,” her mother, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca I, was quick to remind her right before the doors of the throne room were to open. Angelina wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t have the energy or the time, as the doors were opened, and the prince entered. 

The prince of Ticktockia was a human, which she had expected. He was a particularly... interesting piece of work. He was growing a mustache, but he was very bad at it, and so it looked wispy and gross. his fashion sense was something else entirely, and he wore a giant clock on his chest, which Angelina recalled as the symbol of Ticktockia (as it was the meaning behind their name). 

“Hello,” He greeted her, but didn’t bow. Angelina rolled her eyes internally and curtsied. 

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” She said. He only nodded in response. 

This was gonna be fun.

“Well, off you two go then,” Angelina the First waved the pair off, and Salazar held his arm out and Angelina took it, and they went off into the halls of the castle. 

“So... Prince... Salad bar is it?” Angelina asked. 

“Salazar,” He corrected, snappy. Angelina smirked. 

“Right, right, right, my apologies,” She said. “So... where are you from again?”

“Ticktockia, one of Warnerstock’s most important allies..? Surely you’ve heard of us,” He said, annoyed. 

“Not really, no,” She shrugged, removing her arm from his. 

“Oh please, we’ve made all of your clocks,” He pointed out. 

“Oh, those old things? They break every other week, we honestly should replace them all,” She lamented, internally pleased when she saw his anger rise and saw him desperately try to hide it. 

“Well then,” he huffed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t blame you, you are just a woman after all. I shouldn’t expect you to know the history of such an important country.” 

Oh he did not. 

“I can assure you Salazar, I know more of Ticktockia’s history than you do,” she warned. He smirked. 

“Sure you do,” He said. 

“Who was the 17th king?” She quizzed. Salazar paused to think. 

“King... Edmund?” He asked. Angelina shook her head. 

“King Raymond the Beloved. He helped create an era of peace in the land and helped create new trade routes for kingdoms all across the lands,” Angelina said. 

“Everyone knows King Raymond. I was simply... pretending not to know,” He so obviously lied. 

“Alright... who was the 20th king?” She asked. Salazar thought once more, stroking his gross wispy mustache. 

“Easy, King Walter,” He lifted his chin in the air. 

“Wrong. It’s your father, King Jonathan,” She said with a condescending smile. Salazar glared at her. 

“Well I never,” He huffed and crossed his arms. 

“Never what? Studied anything in your life? Because that’s something I’d believe. I mean, come on, who doesn’t know their own father?” She snorted. Salazar looked at her with disgust. 

“You are very unladylike,” He said. 

“It’s an art,” She replied.  

“Mhm,” He mumbled, continuing their walk through the castle once more. 

“So.. tell me... what about your kingdom do you know?” She asked. 

“We’re the number one supplier of clocks in the world,” He stated. 

“Right, but other kingdoms are coming up close behind, so I’d keep a close eye on that if I were you,” Angelina pointed out. 

“Ridiculous,” He scoffed. 

“Oh, but it really isn’t. Your methods are old and outdated and so people from the outside have worked on improving your old designs and they’re only becoming better and better,” Angelina said nonchalantly. Salazar’s eye twitched. 

“You know, this really isn’t the way you should talk to your betrothed,” He snarled. 

“Betrothed? What on earth makes you think we’re betrothed?” Angelina jumped in surprise. 

“I was invited here, no?” He eyed her up and down. “I was promised a bride, and seeing as you’re the prettiest one around and I was invited, we’re betrothed,” he said, placing a hand on her waist, to which she then jumped back and away. 

“Hate to break it to you, dimwit, but that’s not how this works.” She outright glared at him. 

“Oh please, there’s no sense in fighting it,” He rolled his eyes. “I want you, and so you’re going to be mine. Nobody says no to me.”

“Oh I’m sure they do, you probably just ignore it or are too much of a moron to see it,” She spat. 

“I am not a moron.” He raised his voice, but Angelina wasn’t frightened. 

“Sure. And my name isn’t actually Angelina,” She rolled her eyes. “Get real, you know almost nothing about your own kingdom’s history, and I’m sure if I wanted to bore myself further I’d discover you know nothing of Warnerstock, and it’s very apparent you haven’t a single clue of manners or decency in front of a princess.” 

“I. Am. Not. A. Moron,” He clenched his fist. 

“Oh please! If I were to look up the word ‘moron’ in the dictionary, it would have a picture of you. I mean- assuming you’re betrothed to me just because my mother invited you here? My mother may hate my guts, but she’d never do that,” Angelina smirked.

“I can have anything I want, just watch me,” He growled, stepping towards her, and Angelina realized just how much taller he was than her. 

“You’re nothing more than an arrogant, stupid, brainless, spoiled baby that hasn’t heard ‘no’ nearly enough in his life,” She defied him, and he raised his hand and struck her across the face so hard, she fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

Angelina laid on the ground a moment, realizing what just happened, feeling the sting and burn in her cheek. Slowly, she sat herself up. 

“You hit me,” She looked up at him. He dusted off his hand. 

“You’re truly a disgusting creature, Angelina.” he scowled. “I showed you nothing but decency, and you lash out like the vicious animal you are.”

Not even wanting to dignify his bullshit, she instead called for the royal guards. Salazar’s eyes widened as four guards came into the room from their posts, and upon seeing their princess on the floor with a newfound bruise and the neighbor prince red in the face with anger, they were quick to separate the two. 

“I won’t forget about this Angelina. I’ll be back, and I’ll make sure to give you hell once I’m in charge,” He declared for all to hear as he was escorted out. Angelina shuddered as she was helped up by one of the guards. 

“You alright, Princess?” He asked. 

“I’m fine,” She said, not wanting to get into it. 

Despite the stinging in her cheek, she had done what she had to. 

“Just take me to my mother, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear about this,” Angelina sighed. The guards nodded and she was escorted to her mother’s private study. She knocked on it once before entering. 

“Angelina, why am I not surprised?” Her mother didn’t look up from her paperwork, shaking her head. “What happened?”

“He had to leave early,” Angelina said. 

“He just barely arrived,” The queen remarked, before looking up at her daughter’s face and frowning. 

“Angelina, what did I tell you? I told you you had to be on your best behavior and you deliberately disobeyed me,” She set down her work. 

“Well gee, I’m sorry alright?” She rolled her eyes. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true. Honestly Angelina, why do you feel the need to sully the kingdom’s good name like this?” Angelina the First rubbed her forehead and stood. 

“Because it’s dumb. All of this is. The suitors, the manners, It’s just so dumb,” She complained. 

“Angelina, I’m not having this conversation again,” The queen stated. “These rules and rituals are tradition. You don’t have a choice. One day you will marry a suitor I picked out for you, whether it makes you happy or not.”

“I’d sooner die,” Angelina glared. 

“If you had any sense in you, you’d learn to bite your tongue, Angelina. Or do you want to be hit a second time today?” The queen raised her hand with her wedding ring on it and Angelina flinched. The queen smirked a little. 

“That’s what I thought,” She said, before sighing and returning to her paperwork. 

“We’ll have to reschedule the other suitors I had planned to visit this month until that bruise heals. We can’t have rumors spread,” She said, writing something down. If she had been feeling better, Angelina would’ve smiled. Her mother went silent a long moment, the only noise being the scratch of her quill touching the paper. Eventually her mother looked up at her, with an expression that looked like a mix of disgust, tiredness, and annoyance. 

“You can go now,” She said. Angelina curtsied for her mother, and then left.

For a while, Angelina found herself wandering the halls of the castle as she rubbed her bruise lightly. She knew she had done what she had to, but she still felt dazed. Perhaps it was from hitting her head, but she felt... odd. Light headed was the best term she could think to describe it. 

It wasn’t too long before Angelina noticed that she had wandered into the garden. That was good. The flowers and fountains did a lot to clear her mind on days like these. Eventually, she made her way to the middle, and sat down on the bench and watched fountain and birds that stopped to bathe in it. She couldn’t be sure of what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it was a lot.  

After awhile of just sitting there, a familiar voice called out, and Angelina looked up and felt herself revive a little. 

“Angelina! There you are,” William smiled and ran to sit down next to her. 

“Hi,” She smiled and scooted over so there was room. 

“How was your- oh my... what happened?” William gasped, referring to the bruise. 

“O-oh it was nothing, really,” Angelina brushed it off. 

“You’re hurt Lena,” He frowned with concern. Angelina took in a deep breath and sighed. 

“A suitor visited today- Prince Salazar of Ticktockia. I pushed things a little too far this time and well... he got pretty mad. And now my mother is pissed that I managed to make one of our strongest allies hate my guts,” Angelina chuckled sadly. 

“Lena... I’m so sorry. That’s terrible,” William said, his eyes watering. Angelina didn’t know how to respond. 

“William- I’m okay. Really. I’m used to it,” She tried to laugh it off. 

“You’re used to it?” His concern only grew and Angelina bit her words. 

“I-i mean...” She sighed. “You know my mother by now. I’m used to this.”

“Lena, I’m so sorry. Nobody should ever, ever hit you, especially your own mother,” William said. 

“Thank you William,” She smiled tiredly at him. 

“Lena, I swear to you, so long as I live, I’ll never let anyone hurt you like this ever again,” He held her hand and kneeled on the ground. 

“W-william, I-i don’t know what to say,” She sniffled, and realized her own eyes were starting to fill with tears. Quickly, she wiped them away. William then stood and pulled her into a tight and loving embrace. At first, Angelina was hesitant, but she chose to embrace it, and she hugged him back, and found herself quickly sobbing into his shoulder. 

“It’s okay Lena, I’m here. It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore,” he promised, and Angelina believed him. She felt safe in his arms, and never ever wanted to let go. She wanted to stay with him forever, safe and happy and secure. She knew he’d never hurt her, ever. 

She loved him. 

Princess Angelina the Second was in love with William. 

She smiled a little and embraced him even more. 

No matter what her mother tried to do or who she tried to set her up with, Angelina knew she was in love with William, and nothing was ever going to change that. 

[konaizumi]

A Tale of a Thousand Stars ep 8 thoughts/reaction

did i watch this episode secretly on my phone while i was in class bc i couldn’t stand waiting a whole hour to watch the new ep? maybe

tian visiting torfun’s memorial to leave flowers and tell her that he’s going to pha pun dao was sweet

also him and phupha missing each other again was just a really nice scene and phupha wondering who left her flowers

i have decided to forgive dr nam for last episode (the snooping not the flirting thing) bc i know he was just concerned about his friend and he didn’t intend for phupha to have that kind of reaction, but he still should’ve confronted tian directly before telling phupha

the way tian is looking at longtae in the beginning, seeing how supportive he’s being and knowing that he’s probably about to lose longtae as well

god this scene was so painful to watch, just knowing what was coming

but the editing that combines tian’s speech with phupha reading through the notebook

also, thank you to the writers for confirming that the tian/torfun similarities are bc he’s been reading the notebook and not because torfun’s spirit is possessing him, i didn’t think they would do that but nice to have confirmation

poor tian really did go there with the best intentions

oof, when the music goes silent when phupha interrupts his speech

also, i said this last week, but it should’ve been the rangers responsibility to tell everyone torfun had died and the fact that they didn’t only added to tian’s burden and the animosity aimed at him, and it annoyed me the way the rangers (perhaps unintentionally) let tian take on the full blame and didn’t admit that they had known about torfun’s death from the start

god and the way tian’s heart break is visible on his face as soon as phupha interrupts/confronts him and he realizes that phupha won’t be on his side

and mix’s acting in this scene (and the entire episode) is just so good, you can see the way he’s desperately trying to keep in together and not completely break down, and his heartbreak when he realizes he’s all alone

also, i made a longer post about how i understand phupha’s reaction, I think it’s pretty natural and that he’s not overreacting, however, i do wish he hadn’t confronted tian so publicly like that 

just everything about this scene is just so good in the most painful way, especially the sad orchestral version of the theme song

now i think this ep is too sad for me to say it’s my favorite, but from a narrative/cinematography perspective it is my favorite, it was just really well done

i was really hoping the kids would have a bigger role this ep and begin the forgiveness process for the rest of the village, so i was excited when Meejoo came but then p’aof decided to stab me directly in the heart when she asked what death is

(also im sorry but how old are these kids that she doesn’t know what the word death is?)

(also given that everything that happens in this ep happens within like a 30 hour period, i still hold hope for the kids forgiving next ep once they have some time to process)

at least they didn’t make me watch the scene where tian had to explain what death was, that would’ve killed me

i understand the villager’s reactions too, and i do kind of wish tian would just stay home and give them some time to grieve and process before trying to interact with them–i don’t blame tian for keeping the truth from them this long, but he does need to respect the pain they’re going through

also this scene with phupha really fucked me up, the way phupha remains stone faced even though he’s clearly in a lot of pain

“i wish i could return it to her” one of the things about this story that really fucks me up is that you can’t have both torfun and tian--torfun had to die for tian to live, and if torfun had lived then tian would have died and all the characters are in a way stuck with this moral dilemma of “choosing” between tian and torfun, even if the decision was already made for them, and tian has had to deal with this problem since the beginning and made his choice a long time ago that he would have preferred that torfun had lived instead of him bc he feels like she had more to live for and left behind more than he would’ve

also the scene is so much more painful knowing that just that morning phupha had finally said out loud that he wanted tian to stay

and i was really ton this scene between understanding phupha’s reaction and where he’s coming from but also being like “please stop talking to my son like that, he feels bad enough as is”

i have often had the emotion of “i want to walk through the screen so i can give this character a hug” and i have literally never felt it stronger than this episode of atots

also thank you to dr nam who told phupha not that he was wrong for his actions, but that he should’ve confronted tian differently, also for figuring out that tian wasn’t the driver

the fact that tian just walked through the tea field so he knows that either khama was lying to him or that longtae saw him in the field and hid from him

poor longtae tho, thought he knew what was coming then was hit with “im responsible for her death”

you know what? i didn’t realize khama would have such a recurring role from the first episode, but i really like him--he’s trying to do his best for the village and that isn’t always easy and he’s the first to try to think about tian’s perspective even when it’s clearly difficult for him

also i love khaotung, he does a really good job as longtae, and as much as i loved him as chonlatee, i prefer him in more mature roles like longtae or fong

did dr nam really think phupha would keep letting tian stay in his room?

it came as a surprise to likely no one but i am glad to have definitve confirmation that tian was in fact not driving the car

against my wishes, tul did not show up this episode to give tian a hug so i hope he’s in the next ep to provide some much needed emotional support

tian’s involvement in torfun’s death is also complicated because to say he had no responsibility in it would be wrong but to say he had full responsibility wouldn’t be right either, there was so much of the situation that was just due to chance, as it the case in any accident, so i appreciate the nuance of the narrative in that tian does take responsibility (even if he takes too much) but other characters like longtae argue that it’s not his fault, bc it’s easy from an outside perspective to say it’s not tian’s fault but it would be much harder to be in tian’s position and not feel responsible that his actions lead to torfun’s death

longtae is truly best boi

tian saying he’s okay with just longtae understanding him is so sad but at the same time it’s good that he’s not trying to force other people to understand or forgive him

now i really want to know what torfun’s wish is bc you know it’s going to be all meaningful and thematically relevant

istg if i had a fucking nickel for every time tian has tried to give me a heart attack

i spent the entirety of part 4 yelling at tian to just stop being stupid

like i get it, you don’t feel like you have the time to waste to go find phupha, but still

also im worried that maybe the reason he was so adamant about doing it himself and not finding phupha was because he didn’t feel like he could go to phupha or that phupha might not believe him

tian please just listen to longtae being the voice of reason

or at least send longtae back to the village to go get phupha if you’re this determined

as soon as he pulled out his phone i fucking knew the flash would go off bc tian can’t be smart without also being dumb

pls don’t hit my son he has a weak heart

longtae running away like “i didn’t sign up for this shit”

pls stop hitting my son

i was wondering how tian’s dad would become involved in the story again and tian name dropping him to escape being killed by poachers was not it

but sakda was clearly scared when tian first said the name so obvi they’re connected and i’m assuming the person who called tian’s dad was either sakda or one of the other men there which means that tian’s dad is doing illegal shit (surprise surprise)

tian i know you’re stressed but pls let rang provide first aid

that montage at the end tho really hit me

also the parallels between this scene and the one when tian fainted in the field, it’s literally the exact same scene but the roles are reversed

also the fucking post credits scene, the emotional whiplash, the pain from knowing phupha said this stuff literally hours before everything went wrong

the way i squealed when phupha said i do (and throught the rest of the scene), it was literally the sweetest thing, it might be my favorite phutian moment so far

so for the last two episodes, im assuming that tian’s dad coming to get him and the dad being involved in illegal stuff will be the main external conflict, i wouldn’t be surprised if next ep ended with the dad showing up and demanding to take tian back

also the next ep preview, khama telling tian to forgive himself, im weak

this episode just made me feel so much, the story is just so complex and nuanced, and the characters are real and messy, and pls more bl in the future that aren’t afraid to tell more serious stories (as much as i love the romcom style of most bls i would love some more variety)

[riversofmars]

Could you do a story where Thirteen bumps into the tenth doctor and Donna and thirteen pretends that she's not the doctor but then post-library river comes along and causes mischief please? Also I REALLY love your fics, especially The Oncoming Storm! Yours were the first fanfics I read and they're one of the few I like (I'm picky) so thanks for doing such brilliant stories!

Aww thank you so much, that’s very kind of you to say!! Sorry this took a little while longer, hope the wait was worth it! Turned out a bit longer than expected. Hope it sort of fits the brief lol! Really hope you like it!

Rating: G

Ship: Ten/River, Thirteen/River

Word count: 2400

Read on AO3 or below

River Song Has Been Saved

“Hang on a minute, Doctor.“ Donna walked back over to the TARDIS doors after the Doctor had closed them with a snap of his fingers. She thought she’d seen something, just as the doors had closed.

“What’s wrong?“ The Doctor frowned and followed her, both sticking their heads out.

“Oi, lady!“ Donna called stopping a young woman that had just strolled past the TARDIS and was heading back deeper into the Library. Everyone was supposed to be evacuated by now.

“Sorry?“ The woman looked around, blonde hair framing soft features and big eyes. She looked to them as if she hadn’t expected them to be there.

“You can’t go in there.“ The Doctor gestured to the door that lead further into the Library as they stepped out of the TARDIS again. Only a moment longer and they would have taken off and missed her sneaking in here.

“Ahh… so close. Just a bit too early, wasn’t I, hate it when I do that…“ The blonde said to herself more than anything else.

“Did you just come here? The planet has been sealed off for a hundred years, how did you…“ The Doctor frowned, confused as to how she’d got in.

“Yeah, been meaning to check it out.“ The woman grinned. “The hair is magnificent, isn’t it.“ She eyed the Doctor up who looked back at her utterly bewildered. There was something familiar about her.

“Do I know you?“ He asked.

“No absolutely not, never mind me, I’m sure you got important things to do, so.“ She gave a little wave, intend on heading off.

“You can’t go in there, we’re evacuating the planet.“ Donna backed up the Doctor.

“I know, you have a nice day now.“ The woman grinned.

“Sorry, I can’t let you do that.“ The Doctor was quick to overtake her and step in her way. “This place is gonna get swallowed up by flesh eating darkness soon, you might want to head out not in?“

“I got to check something out of the library, I’ll only be a minute.“ She waved off his warning and tried to push past him. “And like you say, the window of opportunity is closing, so, you should probably leave this place yourselves…“

“And you can’t find your book any other place?“ Donna asked dumbfounded.

“One of a kind, sorry, got to run.“ The blonde replied with a grin pushing past him.

“Alright, have a nice day as well.“ The Doctor let her pass.

“Thanks!“ She grinned and sprinted off.

“Doctor, you're not just gonna let her go, are you?“ Donna asked thoroughly confused watching her leave.

“Not a chance. Just giving her a head start.“ The Doctor winked and they headed after her, careful not to be spotted. They took cover behind some tables in the main area as the blonde headed straight for a computer terminal.

“That was close, stupid box, always with the timing…“  She was mumbling to herself. “Couldn’t have hung on two minutes…“ Without further ado, she started pulling some sort of electrical equipment from the pockets of her impressive coat. There were a lot of parts to it and Donna couldn’t believe it all somehow fit into her pockets. They watched her as she hooked up the equipment to the computer.

“What is she doing?“ Donna whispered to the Doctor who shrugged.

“I’m more concerned with who she is… whatever she is doing, that’s complicated tech…“ He mused, watching in fascination as she continued her work.

“Ouch… alright then.“ The blonde pulled her hands away as she seemed to have gotten an electric shock. She stood and engaged the computer terminal. “CAL, hi, sorry, I know, bit confusing, different face.“ She started talking to the computer and the Doctor and Donna exchanged concerned looks. How did she know about CAL? What she was saying was making very little sense to them without the second half of the conversation. They couldn’t make out what CAL responded. “Just popping in to get what’s mine, alright? Don’t freak out, it’s really me. Can you put her on?“ There was a moment of silence. Neither Donna nor the Doctor said anything but there were only very few people she should be looking to talk to on that computer. This was about to get even more investing than the whole experience had been already. “Hello Sweetie. Surprise! This is gonna be great, you’re gonna love this, had Dorium track it down for me, took a while but here we are.“ The woman sounded thoroughly excited. “Get you coat, honey, let’s see if it works.“ She took a step backwards and pulled something from her coat pocket, pointing it at the computer. Sparks flew and the mechanism engaged.

“Can’t have come cheap, that.“

“Dorium Maldovar is known drive a hard bargain, she must be a hacker or criminal of some kind to have those kinds of ties.“ The Doctor mused, trying to make sense of what they were picking up.

“Perhaps Dorium just owes her a favour…“

“Dorium doesn’t do favours.“ He huffed. It was a ridiculous notion.

“He will.“

“Doctor.“ Donna touched her hand to his arm.

“Shush, Donna, I don’t want to lose the element of surprise.“ He kept his eyes firmly on the woman in the middle of the room who was looking around now, apparently waiting to see if whatever she had tried to do had worked.

“Doctor.“ Donna repeated.

“How much longer until he notices, you think?“

“Doctor?!“ Donna grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder and pulled him around.

“Donna, what?!“ He growled but stopped dead in his tacks when he found River Song standing behind them. He had been having a conversation with her without even realising it. She was dressed in a white flowing dress, a stark contrast to the environmental suit he’d only seen her in, and a grinned spread across her beautiful features.

“Hello, Sweetie.“ She chuckled.

“Oh my God, River, what, how…“ The Doctor couldn’t find words.

“Well, Sweetie, what do you think?“ River grinned at the Doctor.

“Of what?“ He was still in shock. He had watched her die only hours ago, he had managed to somehow, miraculously save her consciousness and now suddenly she was here again? “How did you get out of the computer? What did she do?“

“Some sort of teleport I believe, but like a really clever 3D printer, materialise the body, download the consciousness, boom, brand new wife.“ River explained, enjoying the dumbfound expression on both their faces.

“River!!“ The blonde had finally spotted her and River waved to her.

“Speaking of wife…“ River smirked and the Doctor exclaimed:

“Wife?! I thought you and me, we…“ He looked around to the woman heading straight for them, feeling a wave of jealousy. He knew he’d technically only met River today but he knew how important she would become to him.

“We are.“ River chuckled giving his an amused smirk: “But you know, you can’t talk, all I’m gonna say is: Elizabeth I… so…“ She couldn’t carry on as the blonde rushed around the counter and threw herself at River who pulled her close and twirled her around.

“River.“ The mystery woman took her face in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes, clearly overcome with emotion.

“Hello, Sweetie.“ River smiled the softest of smiles and leaned in to kiss her.

“Sooo… how do you feel about this?“ Donna looked to the Doctor, feeling like they were intruding on a private moment. “You think we should go, or…“ She could tell from the annoyed expression on the Doctor’s face, however, that he had no intention of just leaving it be. He pulled himself up to full height and cleared his throat.

“Okay, so thank you for saving my future…“

“Wife.“ River helpfully supplied the word as they stopped kissing and just held each other close.

“Whatever she is. But who are you?“ He jabbed his finger at the blonde.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?“ The woman let go of River, seemingly reluctantly, and turned to face him. She kept her hand intertwined with River’s.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy River isn’t dead but my future self spent a lot of time thinking about how to save her and then you just waltz in here having to do one better?“ The Doctor crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Well, sadly, you’ll not remember that I came here.“ The woman replied.  

“What?“ Donna was utterly confused now.

“Why not?“ The Doctor demanded to know, unsure whether or not that was supposed to be a threat.

“God, you’re slow. Did I give you a concussion when I knocked you out?“ River raised her eyebrows playfully.

“Maybe it’s cause of the hair spray…“ The blonde mused.

“I don’t use…“ The Doctor was going to protest but River had already changed directions:

“Don’t tell me you’re not using hairspray now.“ She ran her hand through the other woman’s blonde bob.

“Naturally falls like that, thank you very much.“ She huffed in response. “Regeneration is a lottery as you should know by now.“

“Are you a timelord?!“ The Doctor exclaimed, not sure how to interpret the statement.

“Yes.“ The blonde replied in amusement.  

“But I thought I was the last…“ The Doctor stared back at her in shock.

“Yes, which makes me…“

“You can’t be.“ He shook his head.

“Yes I am the…“ The blonde started but the didn’t allow her to finish.

“You can’t be the Master, he…“

“So close.“ The mystery woman sighed hanging her head theatrically.

“It’s like watching one of those dumb and dumber movies, isn’t it.“ River chuckled to Donna who had long given up trying to follow.

“Hang on!“ The Doctor exclaimed as the penny dropped.

“Yes, crossing time streams, you won’t remember this because you are crossing your own time stream right now! I am you.“ The blonde Doctor sighed, she couldn’t believe she had to spell it out for him like that.

“Pretty boy and pretty girl.“ Donna found herself chuckling almost involuntarily.

“Aren’t they?“ River agreed with a smirk. “The mind races.“

“River. Shut up!“ The Doctor chanted in unison.

“But you’re short!“ The younger Doctor groaned in annoyance as he looked her up and down.

“I am actually rather average height, as it happens! Why does everyone call me small?!“ The older Doctor huffed. “Did I really use to be so obsessed with my height?!“

“Size isn’t everything, darling.“ River pipped up.

“Still not ginger then.“ The younger Doctor carried on.

“None of the next four, no.“ She replied with a shrug.  

“Four more regenerations and only now did you work out how to save her?“ He exclaimed looking to River.

“I actually gave her the screwdriver last time we met, thank you very much. One step at a time.“ The older Doctor huffed and turned to her wife: “I booked that suite on Darillium again, by the way, for a few nights, just, you know, if you haven’t got any other plans.“

“Well, this is going to be a whole new experience.“ River smirked looking her up and down. This was the first she was seeing of her spouse’s most recent regeneration and she was beyond intrigued.

“Like it?“ The blonde Doctor asked with a little smirk and River grinned:

“Love it.“

“I don’t like her. Do you like her?“ The younger Doctor turned to Donna, just as his future self pulled their wife in for another kiss.

“Are you jealous of yourself?“ Donna teased and he gave her a playful shove.

“So you’re really him? Just older?“ Donna turned to the future Doctor, still struggling to believe that they were the same person. She knew what regeneration meant but it wasn’t like she’d ever seen the result of one.

“Different face, same dumbass.“ The Doctor retorted with a grin.

“Well done for saving her, Doctor.“ Donna smiled as they looked to River who said her goodbyes to the younger Doctor at present. “She really needed you, this version of you.“ Donna thought back to how devastated River had been at the total lack of recognition on the Doctor’s part. She had missed her Doctor so very much.

“I know. I remember.“ The Doctor gave a sad sort of smile as she thought back to when she had first met River, remembering the pain and sorrow in her eyes. “Donna, I can’t know, you know. You can’t tell me, else I might not get here, details my change and a paradox will be created if I know River lived.“ The Doctor turned to her to explain and Donna nodded slowly, they had mentioned it on the way back to the TARDIS already. This Doctor’s TARDIS was parked right behind their’s where they hadn’t been able to spot it as they got out. “Just be there for him. He’s already struggling, even if he doesn’t show it, even if he doesn’t know her yet, he still knows what and who he’s lost.“ The Doctor tried her best to explain to her what was going on in her younger self’s head.

“How long as it been for you? Since she died. How long have had to carry that with you?“ Donna asked taking her hand comfortingly.

“Some questions are better left unanswered.“ The Doctor shook her head and smiled. “It was good to see you, Donna.“ She pulled her into a hug.

“It was good to meet you, this version of you.“ Donna smiled and let her go, just as River and the other Doctor joined them.

“Well done, Doctor.“ The younger Doctor smiled and extended his hand to her.

“You too, Doctor.“ The blonde smile in return and shook his hand.

“You sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea, or…“ River suggested pointing to the TARDIS:

“Down, girl.“ The older Doctor smirked and took her hand in hers.

“You’ll be seeing me again soon, Doctor.“ River smiled at the younger Doctor who grinned:

“I look forward to it.“

“No telling.“ The older Doctor reminded Donna who nodded and smiled:

“My lips are sealed.“

“Now about that suite.“ River smirked at her wife as they turned to their TARDIS.

“Think the TARDIS bedroom will do for now, don’t you?“ The Doctor chuckled as she unlocked the door.

“Bedroom, kitchen, console room, wardrobe hall…“ River smirked and pulled her inside.

“Good for you, Doctor, so you’re not an eternal virgin then.“ Donna teased pulling her Doctor along to their TARDIS before he could get any more jealous.

[salandition]

maybe something about getting your mail at the same time?? like you're apartment/house neighbors with Leon and/or Raihan & at first it's just coincidence, but then they start waiting for you to get your mail so they can come talk to you?? & then eventually you both always wait until the same time to get the mail each day to talk to each other?? idk just something cutesy and slice of life-y, i love your writing!!

A/N: Decided to make this a mini-ficlet for both. The idea is a bit hard to diversify so hopefully I’ve done a good job making the scenario unique for both of them! I put it under the cut for 5 seconds before I had to edit it on my phone, and doing that erases the link cut (hooray for our shitty app! Hate it), so now there’s no longer a cut! Hope you all don’t mind the long post for now, I’ll try to edit it in the morning !!

Leon ☆

He rolls on the balls of his feet as he waits, hands in his pockets and digging deep into the cloth.

It’s a bit embarrassing to wait for you- even more embarrassing to admit it, even if it’s just in his head. It’s shameful to admit the times he’s fastly raised his head, raised his shoulders in anticipation only to drop them when he sees the person who entered the building wasn’t who he was waiting for- and to pull his hat down further on his head as the apartment tenant just trying to get their mail notices him lurking around the corner and gives him a strange look. Add that one to the pile of looks he’s gotten today from waiting around for you.

But surely- surely you will be coming soon. So all this awkward flustering and waiting around will end and be worth it for- what- a brief conversation? Something that might barely last five minutes if Leon insists on it?

He starts to chew on his lip and doubt this silly thing that he’s doing. It’s kind of creepy- definitely weird. If you come to get mail today on Tuesday, just like you do every week- just like Leon does- then surely you’ll just want to pick up your mail and leave. Maybe you don’t even have any this week! That’s also possible. So maybe waiting around is possibly very stupid and he should just head up to his apartment now-

Then the door opens again, and Leon looks up one last time. And of course it’s you- of course it is. His heart jumps.

...He’s not sure what to do now. Hm.

Right as he’s starting to doubt this idea once again, your eyes meet his. And you smile at him- happy to see him- making Leon bless Arceus as he smiles back. Maybe a little too eagerly, but oh well.

“Mail?” He asks lamely, and nearly curses himself out for such a dumb introduction, but you laugh anyway as you nod at him and head to your mailbox.

“How’d you know?” You tease lightly, opening your drawer and taking out the contents inside, tucking it under your arm. “It’s interesting how we check mail the same day. Why Tuesday for you?”

Leon hums, acting casual as he leans against the wall in a very cool way. “It’s the same day I do my laundry. You?”

You raise your eyebrows at his reply. “That’s a non-answer. First you’ll have to give me your reasoning for doing your laundry on Tuesday.”

“Ah, well that’s because it’s the same day I check my mail, of course.”

Your expression lights up as you bark out a laugh. “Alright, keep your secrets!” You snicker. “But I’m not telling you my reason, then.”

“Mm, you shouldn’t. It keeps you mysterious, and therefore alluring.”

“So I’m alluring to you?” Oops, perhaps he shouldn’t have said that. You look a bit smug now as Leon opens his mouth, fighting to find a different adjective, but none are coming to mind fast enough. You hum, “good to know that the great ex-Champion finds me alluring.”

He pouts. “Well now, you didn’t have to add the ex part.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I’m a stickler for truths, as harsh as they may be,”

Leon straightens up his posture as he leans off the wall, taking in the new information about you and putting it in a little folder in his mind for later thought. “Good to know,” he says, and taps his own mail against his thigh. “I should be off now, but I appreciate the new information about my neighbor,” As he heads for the doors, you follow him out, and Leon tries not to skip at that.

“As do I. It’s always good to know I’ve got someone around that’s willing to give me a cup of sugar,” you smile, “or go for a late night skinny dip in the pool for pure adrenaline rush reasons, who knows,”

He spits, and you laugh at him.

“You shouldn’t tease like that!” Leon coughs, but he can’t help the laugh that escapes him either as he tries to rub the smile off his face, along with the blush that’s festering on his cheeks. “But you have my number. House number, that is. For sugar reasons only.”

“Well, that doesn’t exclude the skinny dipping then, because depending on your description of such events, it can be pretty sweet.”

“Stop!” Leon laughs and risks shoving you in a playful way, and thankfully you just giggle along and let him push you.

“Okay, I’m done, I promise,” you snort and slow your walk as a split comes in the sidewalk. Ah, yes, the dreadful split. Where Leon goes right and you go left, to your respective buildings. When you look up at him and smile again, Leon almost sighs- it’ll be a long week before he sees it again. “Unfortunately I have plenty of sugar at home, so I’ll most likely see you next Tuesday if fate allows it.”

“Yes, fate,” Leon agrees, and the two of you go your separate ways. Surely it was fate that had you both checking mail at the same time, Leon thinks... And he groans as he flusters at the thought, lowering his cap on his head again and letting the material rub harshly on his forehead. Of course it was fate, and not at all was it because Leon can’t stop thinking about you and how he waits for you every Tuesday on purpose. Definitely not.

Raihan ☆

The day you had moved into the house next to him was a day Raihan will remember- and usually he doesn’t remember such mundane, unimportant things- but you had left an impression that day. And you hate it, too, so that makes him remember it even more, grinning as he brings up the incident whenever he can.

It was a simple mistake, of course. And it was quite cute, as well, which Raihan also tells you, and it just makes you hit him on the arm, which is also very cute. You had moved in, several Corviknights out in your yard that carried your boxes. They hopped around in boredom, rolling around with each other and such as you unpacked, but otherwise not causing a disturbance of any sort. It was while you were packing that you had decided to introduce yourself to your neighbors- because you were definitely in need of a break from hauling everything around after a few hours. That’s what brought you to Raihan’s porch, which you had no idea was Raihan’s porch, and knocking three times on his door.

And that’s when Raihan had opened the door, surprising you not only with his mere presence but also because he was clad only in a towel that hung low around his lean hips. It was an image that had you at a loss for words-

“Holy hell-“

Well, at a loss for eloquent words, that is.

Raihan had raised his eyebrows at your statement, but otherwise said nothing- obviously waiting to see why you were on his property. And you, unfortunately, couldn’t even breathe, much less tell him that you were his new neighbor as you ogled at his wet and naked body.

“I’m. Next door. If you ever want me-“ no, that’s not right! “-need me.” That wasn’t better? “None of those things. You don’t- no- alright. I’ll be next door. I live there now. ...Farewell.”

And after that fucking mess, you quickly left, and you were quite positive in your decision to never speak or look at Raihan ever again. Even on the telly. But he had ruined it when sometime the next week, after you had finally gotten the post office to register your new address and stop sending all your mail to your poor old gran- you hopped over to your mailbox.

Only for Raihan to be there too. And boy, was he just staring at you, grinning and everything. You immediately froze when you saw him, and that just made him grin wider as he leaned on his mailbox.

“Pray tell, neighbor,” he said, “what’s your name? I want- no, I need to know, so I hope you’ll tell me.”

Never had your face gotten red so fast. Except maybe that one time- that you saw him half naked. Yeah. 

Since that awful, awful introduction- you were able to thankfully move past it and become good aquatintes of a sort with your neighbor Raihan. And he moved past it with you, but only to a certain extent. Because of course he brought it up every other time he saw you to tease you- but it’s becoming less frequent after you told him that the joke will lose it’s affect the more he uses it. So now he’s spread out the teasing quite a bit.

But whenever you go to get your mail, you see how he basically bursts out of his own home and skips down his steps to meet you there. He says he simply needs to get his own mail- which he does, and he’s always got loads of it (unsurprising), but you know it’s also because he’s just waiting for you to humiliate yourself again.

And eventually, you do just that.

You’re just trying to peacefully gather your mail again, and of course Raihan is there, chatting away before once again mentioning how you were so embarrassed by his body- and you finally snap. “What?” You ask him, abruptly. “Would you not be?”

“Not be what?” He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you gesture wildly with your arms.

“Embarrassed! Like, be honest- if I came down suddenly one day in a towel and I was wet and dripping and all that- I mean, that would be- kind of embarrassing... for you, probably?” You lose confidence the longer you talk, unfortunately, because you’re suddenly aware of what you’re saying.

Raihan’s eyebrows have successfully disappeared beneath his beanie as he stares wide eyed at you, and then he asks- “is that an offer?”

Because of course he asks that.

“Stop stalking me when I get mail!” You yell at him instead, face successfully red and hot- and Raihan explodes into a fit of laughter as he doubles over on his mailbox. “I mean it! You’re going to ruin me- I could testify to the police that it’s harassment!” Of course you don’t actually mean this, but you’ve had quite enough. You’re not sure how much more of a beating your poor heart and soul can take from this man.

Raihan just keeps laughing.

“For Arceus sake,” you curse under your breath and turn on your heel, heading back to your house in quick steps. You make it to the door when he finally calls out your name, and you consider ignoring him- but he pleads, even if it’s laced between giggles.

“Wait- wait! I mean it, you left this behind- come on!”

His voice gets closer, and when you look over your shoulder, he’s on the stairs of your porch with mirth in his eyes as he holds up a package. You purse your lips. “Come on now, take it and I’ll leave you alone.”

Quickly you swipe it out of his hands.

“For now.”

Of course. Shouldn’t have expected it’ll be so easy. “Goodbye, Raihan,” you tell him tiredly and he barely waves as he watches you disappear into your house. You’re already dreading the next time you get mail- maybe you’ll train your Pokemon to do it for you...

Pssh. Yeah, right.