#otp: endless affection

[scottysketches]

he is so smitten with her 🥹

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ BLACK CAT X GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY ~ OTP PROMPTS

requested by: @moondrop-gummies request: Can you do grumpy sunshine where she’s the grumpy but doesn’t believe she can be loved and he’s the sunshine who treats her like she’s the best thing in his life and they’re roommates? Thank you in advance! 🎀

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: ~ GRUMPY X SUNSHINE ~ PROMPTS

grumpy being unable to accept anything kind that sunshine tries to do for them

sunshine just admiring anything grumpy does

sunshine staying at home despite being invited elsewhere just to spend more time with grumpy

sunshine doing the things around the house that grumpy dreads doing

grumpy being snarky about the nice things sunshine does but they both know grumpy is actually enjoying them

sunshine having endless patience with grumpy because they know/hope that they'll come around eventually

sunshine making sure to tell grumpy that they deserve the world

grumpy warming up to sunshine and being in a bright mood in sunshine's company

grumpy being patient with sunshine and listening to their long, colourful stories but that's the least they can do when sunshine does everything for them

grumpy's love language is telling sunshine that they deserve more (than grumpy could ever give them)

sunshine's love language is showering grumpy with affection until grumpy snaps

grumpy trying to push sunshine away to guard themselves from developing serious feelings

grumpy hyping sunshine up when they find out that sunshine has a crush, not knowing that it's them

^ and immediately changing course when they find out (because sunshine shouldn't throw their love away on someone as undeserving as grumpy)

sunshine not paying any mind to grumpy's self-depricating rants and just keeping up their high level of affection and warmth

grumpy being able to let their guard down and accept the love because of sunshine's unconditional and unwavering support

grumpy 'you're an idiot to choose me' & sunshine 'I would be that idiot in any universe and you love it'

grumpy being seriously worried about sunshine having developed feelings for grumpy ("you can't be sane. you should see a doctor.")

grumpy being the biggest sunshine stan but they adore them too much to be willing to expose them to the madness that means grumpy

sunshine doing everything with grumpy that want but nothing more and nothing less because they know how important it is to respect grumpy's boundaries

[moku-youbi]

think about this (I AM THINKING ABOUT THIS SO HARD)

in klive context (especially with your find your way home series in mind)

ahahaha. Gonna admit this is tough on me, because I DO ship Five/Lila, and I have basically from the moment she showed up...but any time I try to think of scenarios for potential fic, my brain just NOPES out because Klive is OTP, and I can't stand the thought of Five without his Klaus. (which is why I eventually was like okay, Klaus/Five/Lila...and then because I felt sad leaving Diego out, and because I ship Klaus/Diego and Five/Diego, my brain went WHY NOT ALL FOUR?!)

Let's be clear about a few things though! If this were an established Klive scenario, Five wouldn't have stopped for a second. He probably would've died pretty fast if not for Lila forcing a slowdown, because he would not pause to eat or sleep or drink and he'd get sloppy and delirious fast. This is supposing he'd end up on that subway without Klaus in the first place, though, which would have *never* happened. He wouldn't have allowed Klaus to get shot, or to run off to who knows where in the middle of an emergency situation, and he wouldn't feel the need to distract Klaus or pass him off to Ribbons the Babysitter. They'd be glued at the hip, so you'd either get all three of them on the subway, or just Klive. (to be clear, if it was all 3 of them, I'm totally down with ot3. Klaus would be such a great buffer in there, being so gentle with them both, comforting them, caring for them *le sigh* If Blackman was going to piss everyone off anyway, why not go for broke with incest 3way lmao! Then you could also do away with the AWFUL pointless Klaus storyline full of unnecessary trauma). All that being said, if he'd been in an established relationship with Klaus and somehow they HADN'T been together in the subway? Yeah, never in a million years would he have cheated on Klaus.

I think for me, the disconnect is that he wants to stay there with her, not that he falls in love with her. I don't have trouble believing that. They're already so alike and there's clear affection and a spark of chemistry there. And I think a lot of people miss that 1.) he'd already 'broken up with' Delores in s1 when he returns her to the store and 2.) he's stuck in another apocalypse scenario, and we know his coping mechanisms. + 3.) she was in an unhappy and unfulfilling marriage and 4.) her aggressive positivity and not speaking about her children is *her* coping mechanism. My poly-minded brain is okay with this. He can love her and Klaus and Delores and whoever. She can love him and Diego and whoever.

And I can even see him needing a break. That's what he told Klaus he wanted in s3 after all. He had a few year's downtime, and then suddenly gets put back in this nightmare situation with no end in sight. He's 70. He's tired of just running and fighting *constantly* It makes sense to want to go someplace safe and comfortable and take a breath.

For me the part that doesn't work is as soon as he finds the book. Like it just doesn't work for his character no matter what. I can see him taking a couple of days to come to terms with the fact he's going to lose Lila, but I don't see it lasting *months* That's where the Klive shipper (and Hargreeves OTSiblings) in me is all hell naw! Not only is it unbelievable that he'd abandon his siblings to the apocalypse (like, sure, wanting to get away from the endless chain of end of the world scenarios, fine, but he'd go bring his family BACK with them, then), but we saw with Delores that he let her go because he knew it was what was right and what she needed. He would *never* keep Lila from her children 5 months longer out of selfishness, knowing her anguish over being apart from them for so long, no matter how much he loves her. In fact, it's because he loves her so much that he wouldn't.

And that's what it comes down to, a fundamental misunderstanding of how Five loves, from the writers. It's an interesting blend of selfishness and selflessness, but no matter the cost to him personally, he'll do what is best for his loved ones.

[tessa-liam]

Smoke and Mirrors  

10- This I Promise You 

Book: The Royal Romance Finale+, AU

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer’. 

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’ 

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy 

*Most characters belong to Pixelberry 

*Not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings:  NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking/gun violence. Not recommended for anyone under 18 years of age. 

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 2465 

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley welcome their twin boys to the world. The Interpol/black ledger revelations are discussed with the Royal Council.

Music & Title Inspiration:

This I Promise You, Anthem Lights 

Slow Down, Nichole Nordeman 

A/N2: My submission for @choicesoctober2023, Relationships: Favorite Ship – Liam & Riley, OTP, Family, My MC, Riley Brooks; Other – Childbirth 

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #56, Prompt 3- “I’m afraid I may have made a mistake.” 

A/N3: My submission for @choicesprompts, Flufftober 2023, Festival of Fears Prompt Event – Prompt 28 – Hurt/Comfort/Forehead Kiss 

Royal chambers, palace

As the due date of the twins’ birth drew near, Princess Eleanor could not contain her excitement. Every night at bedtime, she whispered to her mother’s round belly, speaking to her unborn brothers. 

“Hey, there … I can’t wait to meet you both,” Princess Eleanor softly spoke to her mother’s round belly, her voice filled with warmth and affection. 

“I have so much to show you … we can play together and explore the palace, and I’ll protect you, as your big sister. I’ll teach you all the secrets. I love you both, already, so much!” 

Riley, witnessing her daughter’s heartfelt confessions to her unborn babies, couldn’t help but smile. The tenderness and love in her voice were touching, and it warmed her heart to see her princess already forming such a strong bond with her soon to arrive siblings. Ellie will make an incredible older sister, already showering her brothers with affection, guidance, and promising endless adventures. 

Liam walked into the room, stealthily wrapping his arms around Riley. “Princess, its bedtime. Your Mom and brothers need to get some sleep, and so do you,” he murmured authoritatively.  

Ellie smiled up at him, “but Daddy, with this smile, I can get away with anything. Five more minutes...please, Daddy?” Smiling sweetly at her father, Liam quickly lost the battle. 

Liam guffawed with faux disapproval, “Cheeky, just like your mother.” 

Riley leaned into Liam’s embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. She nodded with a soft smile, acknowledging his gentle reminder. 

“You’re right, Liam,” she whispered, her eyes still on Ellie as she continued to speak to her mother’s belly. “They do need their rest. Thank you for looking out for all of us, Liam.” 

Closing the door behind him, he nodded to the guard standing vigil outside her room and turned to a waiting Riley in the hallway. “I think these two,” Liam reached for Riley’s very pregnant belly, “are going to be just like their sister.” Liam mischievously smirked as Riley laughed. 

With a kiss on her cheek, Riley gently pulled away from Ellie’s embrace and pulled the covers up and around her. Liam bent down to kiss Ellie’s forehead, “good night, my princess.” 

“You mean just like me?” Riley snickered, batting her eyelashes playfully. “She has you wrapped around her little finger, Li.” 

“Come on, woman,” Liam roguishly teased. “I have a surprise for you.” Riley giggled as Liam placed his hand on the small of her lower back, leading her to the moonlit terrace adjacent to the dining room. 

Interpol Headquarters, Lyon, France 

Imprisoned by Interpol, Bastien found himself in a dark place. He was questioned relentlessly about his ties to Lena, a woman he had vowed to protect, earlier in his life.  Vallenheim’s secrets loomed over both of them like a sinister cloud. 

Bastien’s connection to Lena ran deeper than anyone could fathom. It all started when King Constantine demanded the loyal Kings head guard to protect his daughter; to take a vow of lifelong protection for a hidden princess outlawed to a foreign kingdom, hidden away from his realm. 

No one could have predicted that this secret princess, sequestered in Vallenheim would be groomed to destroy Constantine’s legacy. His beloved Cordonia. 

Director Ryerson and his team delved into the depths of a mysterious black ledger discovered at the Vallenheim estate, seeking to unearth the hidden truths it held. 

Within those pages lie the dark secrets of the attacks on the Cordonian palace; secrets that entangle Godfrey, the Duke of Karlington. A figure that held an alliance with the nefarious Liberation Corps. As the truth unfurled, Director Ryerson announced to his team that Lena would be formally charged with conspiracy to commit murder; the murder of the King of Cordonia. 

Lena held many secrets hidden behind her mask of steely resolve. She feared unveiling the truth about Bastien would be a death sentence; a revelation that could shatter the delicate balance of power within the Liberation Corps. 

In the heart of this tangled web of intrigue and allegiance, the Kingdom of Cordonia awaited the arrival of its’ future heirs. The shadows of the past looming larger than ever. Each revelation threatened to unravel the very fabric of Cordonia. Leaving its rulers to grapple with the weight of their responsibilities and the ghosts that lurked in the corners of their realm. 

Director Ryerson snapped his briefcase closed after placing the well-worn ledger along with his laptop inside. A quick check to ensure his wallet and passport were in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he left his office to board an overnight flight to Cordonia. A pivotal meeting with the King of Cordonia was scheduled in the early morning hours at the Cordonian palace.  

Dining Room Terrace, Royal Chambers 

The sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the gardens. Liam had a mischievous glint in his eye as he presented an elaborate ice cream sundae to his heavily pregnant queen.  

Riley grinned, her eyes widening at the sight of the extravagant dessert. “Liam, this is too much!” 

Liam shrugged playfully. “Nonsense, my love. It’s a small treat for my queen. After all, you’re eating for three now!” 

Riley chuckled, shaking her head; her spoon poised to dig into the mountain of ice cream and toppings. “But, hey … where is your bowl?” 

“I’m afraid I may have made a mistake,” Liam sighed. “I thought I wouldn't want dessert, but now I do.” 

“Your majesty,” the butler appeared. “The chef has also prepared this dish for you.” 

Riley laughed when under the silver lid of the serving platter, a plate of baklava was revealed. 

“The chef knows me all too well,” Liam shook his head, grinning. “Thank you, Elena.” 

They continued to share a few more lighthearted quips as they indulged in their sweet treats, reminiscing about past adventures. Their laughter echoed through the terrace as they enjoyed each other’s company. 

“I still can’t get over that tango dance in Auvernal with Bradshaw and Isabella,” Liam remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Riley rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Oh, don’t remind me. Isabella got so flustered and stormed out of the ballroom.” 

Liam laughed. “That was one for the history books. But you, my love, you were a tango sensation.” 

Riley blushed, her cheeks rosy. “Well, you were the perfect partner, Liam.” 

Their banter was interrupted by a sudden, unexpected event. Riley’s expression changed, and her eyes widened as she felt something she wasn’t expecting. 

“Liam, I think … Oh, my … my water just broke!” 

Liam’s playful demeanor instantly shifted to concern. Setting aside his plate, he stood up, extending his hand to her. 

“Love, come on, we need to get you to the birthing room.”

Instead of delivering at the hospital, for comfort and security, an ultramodern birthing room was recently installed within the Royal chambers. The memory of Eleanor’s chaotic birth serves as inspiration. 

Riley nodded, gripping his hand tightly as she stood up from her chair. Taking a step forward, she buckled over as a contraction swept through her body. 

“Oomph … ohhhh …" Riley’s face contorted with pain. 

Moving instantly with the strength and agility that came from years of training as a king, Liam scooped up his queen into his arms and carried her down the hallway. His heart raced, and he was fully focused on ensuring the safety and well-being of Riley and his unborn sons. 

“Your Majesties, Dr. Ramirez and her team have been notified; their e.t.a. is 10 minutes.,” Mara announced, closely following.

“Thank you,” Mara. “We need her up here, quickly.” Even though he kept up a stoic expression, inside, he was concerned with the level of pain and hurt) that Riley would undergo to bring their sons into the world. Her comfort was paramount.  

The birthing room was a sanctuary of calm, the soft glow of candlelight casting a serene ambiance. The doors were held open as Liam strode in, his presence commanding yet tender. He carefully placed Riley on the bed ensuring she was comfortable. Nurses, well trained and efficient, moved swiftly preparing for the imminent arrival of the royal twins. 

Liam took his place at Riley's side, his strong hand enveloping hers. He looked into her eyes; his gaze filled with unwavering support. “You're doing amazingly, my love. Just a little longer and our boys will be here.” Riley nodded, her face contorted in a mixture of pain and determination. She squeezed Liam’s hand tightly, finding strength in their connection. “I can do this, Liam. We can do this.” 

Throughout the hours of labor, the nurses moved with practiced precision, offering gentle words of encouragement and ensuring everything was in place. Dr. Ramirez stood calmly at the ready.  

As another wave of pain surged through Riley, she took a deep breath, her knuckles turning white from her grip on Liam's hand. “I can feel them, Liam. They're coming.” 

Liam's heart swelled with pride and awe for the woman before him. “You're incredible, Riley. I am so proud of you.”  

With one final push, the room seemed to hold its breath. Then, in an instant, cries filled the air, harmonizing with the joy that radiated from the faces of the new parents. 

Doctor Ramirez gently placed the first baby in Riley's arms, a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft blanket. Tears glistened in both of their eyes as they gazed down at their son. Their hearts overflowing with love. 

“He's perfect, Riley,” Liam whispered, his voice choked with emotion. 

Riley smiled, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. “He’s absolutely perfect, Liam.” 

As the first baby settled into Riley's arms, the nurses continued their careful work. Preparing for the arrival of the second prince. 

King’s boardroom, Royal offices 

Director Ryerson’s arrival at the palace was met with heightened security and discreet professionalism of undercover Interpol officers. The matter at hand was delicate, and Cordonia’s Royal family and council was well aware of the implications of discussing the black ledger. With King Liam indisposed due to the birth of his twin sons, it fell upon his trusted brother, Prince Leo, to chair the meeting.  

Dressed in a sharp suit, Leo took the central seat at the ornate boardroom table. His expression was serious, and he exuded an air of authority as he began the discussion. 

“Director Ryerson, thank you for your time. In my brother’s absence, I will be chairing this meeting.” 

Seated to his right, Queen Amalas, the espionage expert, sits in support of King Liam. On his left was Officer Alex Cossoy, the newly appointed head of intelligence and security for Cordonia. 

Olivia sat next to Alex, representing the royal guard, observed the meeting with a watchful eye. 

Director Ryerson stood, his demeanor poised and his gaze unwavering as he began his prepared statement. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, on review of the black ledger by Interpol’s analysts, I stand before you today to address a matter of utmost importance. At this time, we will move ahead to lay charges against two benefactors and one terrorist organization.

One. The ledger has confirmed that the Liberation Core was funded to commit the assassination of King Constantine of Cordonia by the Kingdom of Vallenheim.” 

Two. Duke Godfrey, formerly the Duke of Karlington; currently incarcerated for the murder of Queen Eleanor Rys was funded by the Kingdom of Vallenheim. 

Three. Lena Rys, a member of the Via Imperii cult in Vallenheim, daughter of King Constantine Rys; currently incarcerated at Interpol headquarters for treason. 

Records within the black ledger, along with intelligence sources have indicated and uncovered a plot to coordinate and commit the assassination of King Liam Rys, funded by the Kingdom of Vallenheim, to be orchestrated by Lena Rys.  

Lena Runarsdottir Rys is to be formally charged with conspiracy to commit murder. 

As Director Ryerson concluded his address, a profound silence settled over the room. The gravity of the situation, the weight of the black ledger, and the responsibility that lay on their shoulders of those in attendance hung heavy in the air. Liam’s absence added an additional layer of tension to the group. 

Leo broke the silence with a determined nod. “Thank you, Director. We understand the significance of this matter and appreciate the expertise of your team."  

Taking a staggered breath, Leo stood up to escort the Director from the boardroom, and subsequently, the palace. His training in stoicism, being tested. 

Birthing room, Royal chambers 

...everything is so peaceful, so quiet. Liam smiled to himself as he laid William down in the bassinet next to his little brother, Stefan. He marveled at the two baby boys, his sons; so taken with emotion. The pride he felt overwhelmed him. 

‘And I will take you in my arms 

Climbing into the bed with Riley, Liam kissed her forehead, as she slept, resting from her ordeal. 

and hold you right where you belong 

‘Til the day my life is through 

This I promise you 

This I promise you’ 

Thanks for reading!

📌All fics & edits: @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

📌TRR/TRF Liam & Riley: @jared2612 @irisk12 @thesvnsins @walkerdrakewalker @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesfrog @amandablink

📌Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @choicesmonthlychallenge @choicesprompts

[nsewell]

17, 20, 31, 32, & 58 for nate and gen pleaaaase <33

otp asks.

17. who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

so nate is very much the instigator at the begining of their relationship for most everything but espescially the physical aspects, gen is just. very slow moving with initiating that kind of stuff until they reach a certain point, i think it even surprises her that it's something she wants to do and has to get comfortable with, she can be touch averse. however the dynamic shifts once gen feels more settled and then she's definetely the one more likely to drag him down by the lappels at unexpected moments and lay one on him

20. choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship?

i'll cheat and pick 2 because i think their relationship has different flavors to it, the swept up passion and the undercurrent of tension from all the secrets

the louvre by lorde

well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue / our days and nights are perfumed with obsession / half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor / use our eyes, throw our hands overboard

good looking by suki waterhouse

the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all / i thought i'd learned all of your secrets but turns out there's more / you adored me before / oh, my good looking boy

30. your otp gets to pick out each other's outfits: what is each wearing?

ooh i'll do date night fits as the context is actually something i see happening in my canon for them, they both get off a little on this ^^. nate would love to dress her in something that belongs to him, probably that he's owned for a long time, like a blazer or his leather jacket that would be oversized on her, layered on top of a black dress bc he knows it's her favorite color to wear. and then he'd adorn her with jewelry he bought for her, silver of course, she's a winter color season. she would take him out his layering and put him in a button down with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. in his little chinos with a belt on and his hair down and loose it's so over for her she thinks he looks his best when he's dressed like a whorish college professor

32. who's the better storyteller?

nate can weave a better tale just because gen tends to get caught up in minor details and specifics, just gets too pragmatic. as a child she was always interrupting bedtime stories with endless why's and how come's that would drive her nanny up the wall

58. who's more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

gennnn absolutely gen the instance where nate tries to prevent her from defending herself did not go over well in book 3, in the aftermath she chose pointedly not to sit by him lol. she will withhold affection, she can be petty and unhealthy about things! she does not have a good frame of reference for healthy relationships so communication can be a bit of an impasse with her. she's growing be patient with her nate.

[violetsiren90]

Oh I’m definitely going to have to go with:

💕👯‍♀️💔

Because I’m deadly curious!!

💕 Your OTP: The man, the myth, the legend...Min Yoongi.

It's the grumpy and sunshine trope where the grumpy is less grumpy and simply more quiet and reserved. Apart from seeming highly complimentary in your similarities and differences, you both have this deep, achingly beautiful humanity that seems to be cut from the same cloth - souls fashioned from the same lovely fabric.

👯‍♀️ Matches your freak: Hwang Hyunjin, hands down.

The deep feelings, the artistic genius, the having so many interests and hobbies you don't know which to choose from day to day. You guys would both understand the need to escape the overstimulation of the noisy world while also loving a person to body-double tasks with from time to time. You would be both be deeply interested in the inner dialogue of the other and would have endless deep heart-to-hearts about countless topics.

💔 Unrequitedly pines for you: Hear me out - Jeon Jungkook.

He would be so enamored of you - he strikes me as someone who has a thing for people who are bright and highly skilled (hence his massive crush on Joon), and you have brilliance and skills for days. BUT - the boy is 24/7 charm with the socio-emotional intelligence of a golden retriever (bless his heart) and I feel like his attempts at riz would go unnoticed by you. Especially because I read you as someone who assumes people are being kind as opposed to assuming they are flirting. He'd be making heart eyes, and you'd just see cute boba orbs, and you'd have so much affection for him but would be completely oblivious to his true interests. In the end, Yoongi would make a real move first, and poor JK would be left to translate his affection and admiration into something more like deep respect as he settled for your friendship.

You'll have to let me know if that seemed even remotely right, but those are my picks! Thanks for coming to my Ted talk, Yoons! 😂💕

*Idol ship emoji ask game*

[mariana-oconnor]

The Blue Carbuncle pt 1

Merry Christmas in March, everyone. Isn't it festive?

"Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of such." "So much so," l remarked, "that of the last six cases which I have added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime."

I do like that Holmes turns his attention to things that aren't crimes, just random peculiarities. Although arguably some of the things he references should have been crimes. (Mary Sutherland, you were wronged.) I think however, Holmes might be wrong about this one. A Carbuncle being a kind of gem, I think there might be dastardly deeds afoot of the particularly illegal kind.

"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem.

So what we have here is a mystery of returning a hat to its owner.

"One of the latter knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road."

Well first, assault is a crime, so you can mark that down. Second, I think breaking a shop window counts as vandalism, although unintentional it may have been. Third, the true crime here is that the man lost both his hat and his goose on Christmas day. A calamity of no short order.

Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose

Sorry, Holmes. The geese refuse.

"Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?" "Only as much as we can deduce." "From his hat?"

Watson's insistence on being surprised every time is joyful. He never loses his awe and astonishment over Holmes' skills. But also, yes, al Sherlock has been doing for two days is staring at a hat. That's how he spent his Christmas.

That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the face of it

Can't wait to hear how he figures that one out. If it has to do with the size of the man's head I will try very hard not to laugh.

This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him.

Fucking savage.

"Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?"

I know Holmes doesn't mean to be patronising about this, but he really is.

"It is a question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a brain must have something in it."

There it is! Big hat = big head = big brain. OR maybe Big hat = big hair = very little brain. OR... big hat = big head = big ego.

The Victorian insistence on things like this is an endless source of amusement to me. Yes, it makes logical sense. You can see why they'd think it. And yet, also... no.

It also makes me think of this guy:

Come to think of it, Megamind isn't wearing a hat... maybe he's also missing a goose.

"But his wife—you said that she had ceased to love him." "This hat has not been brushed for weeks."

Hat brushing, the true test of affection. Sure, your OTP are sweet, but do they brush each others' hats.

I mean, he could have brushed his own hat, but I know that kind of gender fuckery would have been anathema. Men brushing their own hats? What do they have wives for? Whatever is the world coming to when a man has to brush his own hat? MADNESS!

"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow."

To have two tallow stains might be considered a misfortune, but to have five is nothing short of carelessness!

"as you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm done save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a waste of energy.

Watson, Watson, Watson. You slave to the capitalist machine.

Must a puzzle be productive? Must it be grand? Must it always be the King of Bohemia as supplicant begging for aid? Is it not enough that a man has lost a hat and a goose. Is it not even enough for the puzzle to be enough in and of itself?

Cut off the shackles of productivity. Cast aside the delusions of 'meaning'. The universe is chaos and we are but a blip in time.

The recovery of the hat of a man who has clearly not been able to afford a new one for some time, whose wife no longer loves him, and who had to suffer Christmas with no roast goose holds as much meaning as a bank robbery. If not more. For shame, Watson. For shame! Have you no pity in your heart?

"The goose, Mr Holmes! The goose, sir!" he gasped. "Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window?"

OMG untitled goose game Sherlock Holmes edition. You are a terrible goose and it is Christmas day in Victorian London!

"See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!" He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark hollow of his hand.

This is a very lovely description of the stone, but also, introducing the titular character, the blue carbuncle. Alas, the goose will probably have no further importance.

"Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle!" I ejaculated.

1 - another ejaculation, 2 - This is, fittingly for Christmastime, feeling a little like pantomime.

Oh no it isn't!

Oh yes it is!

"the reward offered of 1000 pounds is certainly not within a twentieth part of the market price."

Inflation calculation time again

£1000 in 1890 comes to approximately £100,000 today.

Making the Blue Carbuncle's market price an estimated £2 million in today's money. The biggest goose heist of all time? I think so.

"A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!" The commissionaire plumped down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us.

Fair.

'Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay on discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, where she found matters as described by the last witness.'

I trust neither Ryder nor Catherine Cusack. They are very fishy.

Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who struggled frantically, and protested his innocence in the strongest terMs Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily with the offence, but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was carried out of court.

Hi Inspector Bradstreet! Hope you had a good Christmas.

I really don't think Horner did it. I know I said I read this one, but all that means is that I'm mostly aware of the how. Not so much the who.

Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B, Baker Street.

Not to be a party pooper, but couldn't you have done that to start with?

"And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which your family is now devouring."

So many geese. More geese, please. I think this holds the record for the number of geese in one Sherlock Holmes story. Hopefully there will be more next time.

[crimsonbodies]

❝Now Kiss!❞ 18+ - MINORS DNI            … Alan Wake x Joan Newbury | Original Female Character ] WARNINGS: non-con, infidelity, graphic violence. >a/n : heyo! crimson here. so i'm posting on ao3 but thought i'd start posting on tumblr too again! after having writers block for (checks notes) 6 years, i'm back and ready to write smut finally. hope this isn't too much for some people. i'm not into the infidelity trope at all but it would appear that alan wake belongs to me now :) i thought about this. i wrote this. i read this. the guilt is immense. but i'm still gonna touch myself to it at the end of the day because it's hot 😎👍 ENJOI ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

So Alan Wake had a ring on his finger. So what?

Jiwoon couldn’t wrap his head around why the two most gorgeous survivors (besides Yunjin) wouldn’t just confirm their feelings for each other already!!! It super obvious they were meant to be together, and it was driving him INSANE!

Wake had a wife in the real world or whatever but it had to be like a million bajillion years ago since he last saw her, so he didn't understand what the problem was, and he bet Joan was WAYYY better than Wake's wife anyways like C’MON. Plus what if she was dead??? He had half a mind to escape this realm and kill her himself. The mere memory of her was getting in the way of his power couple for god's sake, and Joan was NOT a second lead.

He paced around the stage, his home in between games being a massive auditorium. When he wasn’t practicing his performances, he was sitting in a meeting room at a long table with all the other killers. Well, most of them. Some didn’t want to participate in their little reality-tv ramblings, and others had been kicked out for being too rowdy. They had been non-stop teasing him about how Alan and Joan would never get together, and it was torturing him because he knew they were right. He had been around Wake long enough to know that the guilt of ‘cheating’ on his long lost wife was looming over his head every time he was with Joan; and yet his puppy-dog eyes couldn’t hide just how much affection he had for her. It was pathetic. It was dramatic. It had him on the edge of his seat, but the endless “will they, won’t they” had gone on for far too long. It wasn’t enough for him anymore, he needed a real display of affection.

Whenever he had them in a match, he would tunnel out the other two randos just so he could watch them interact alone, or ALOAN as he liked to call them (it was their ship name he made up and he was very proud of it)(he hoped it caught on in the meeting room soon). Even when tensions were high, and they constantly looked over their shoulders, Wake would still spare some time to make a bad joke, and Joan would call it awful but wouldn’t be able to stifle her laughter. Then they would gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, or even worse, stare longingly when the other wasn’t looking. From the moments where Wake would drop whatever he was doing when he saw her being chased, to the fact that he would never even let her end up on hook in the first place, it was so obvious to every survivor and their mother how they felt, and if they were trying to hide it from people they sucked at doing so. They were even known to the younger survivors as 'mom and dad'. It was CRYSTAL LAKE CLEAR how well they fit together like two puzzle pieces, I mean, CLEARLY since even the killers who didn’t really care about them weren’t denying the chemistry they shared. Even Freddy, who rarely participated in the round table love island conspiracy, had a few choice words when Merchant said Joan could do way better than Wake. You could hear the sound of one of pinhead’s nails dropping the way the entire room froze in shock; it made Jiwoon proud to call them his OTP.

But Jiwoon wasn’t just another annoying fanfiction writer, he was the Trickster! A cold, confident, calculating,  killer. He wanted an intimate performance, not 50 webtoon episodes where the couple barely so much as brushes up against each other. He had already read plenty of that slow-burn garbage back in the real world, the comments flooded with disappointment every time a kiss was teased and not given for the seventh time over. He would never do that if he was the author, he would simply give the people what they truly wanted immediately. 

And then it hit him. He stopped pacing, bringing his hand up to his face that was curling into a devious smile, and started chuckling to himself. He knew exactly how to get them to admit their feelings. If the forced proximity trope wasn’t enough, he would have to take it a step further. 

He needed to get them to fuck each other, even if he had to force them to do it.

/////

Sooner rather than later, the Trickster had made an appearance in one of their matches. Alan and Joan had long noticed how he liked to stalk them, catching on to his constant ploy of saving them for last, but he never really finished what he started. He often seem to give up in the end game, and they would always see him from afar as they ran through the exit gates. Still, they learned not to let their guard down, and were extra cautious around him since he was unpredictable, but he knew it was all a farce. Some would say he was underestimating what they were willing to do for the other, but Jiwoon was banking on it. In fact, they needed to stick to the script that he had been writing for them behind the scenes or all of this would be for nothing. He was risking them never being able to face each other again. The stakes were high, and he was all in.

As per usual, he made quick work of the unfortunate Dwight and David (sorry about your ship Trapper) and quickly made his rounds to the last gen. There were only three left for them to work on, and they almost always worked together on one of them. The map was Gas Heaven in Autohaven Wreckers. He knew exactly where they were headed: the gas station. The false pretence of a safe roof over their head. They would crouch walk over to the gen, unaware that the basement was directly next to them, patiently waiting for the next scene to unfold. And he was right; there they were. From a fair distance away, he could see Joan’s dark chocolate movie-star hairstyle peeking out from the cracked glass of the garage door. In his head, he fantasized about them exchanging meek smiles, their fingertips would brush as they reached for the toolbox at the same time, unable to hide their blushing.

‘Sorry Allie.’

‘You can use it June.’

He pictured them exchanging lovey-dovey nicknames, truly the pinnacle of a completely platonic friendship. Ignorant lovebirds.

‘Keep it together, Jiwoon. It’s… showtime’

He took a deep breath, brandishing his throwing knives before he took off. The only reason it wasn’t wise to form a relationship in the games was the fact that sometimes you were so focused on protecting the other person that you ended up making stupid mistakes, and Wake was due for his own to catch up with him. Joan was on the side of the gen perfectly in line with the doorway. Wake hadn’t even noticed, too busy scanning their surroundings for the both of them and getting his vision caught on the way Joan’s delicate hands made quick work of the wiring. But the hair on Joan’s neck raised as the killer approached, and just as she was about to get off the gen and tell Alan to hide, a firm hand was grasping the back of her black turtleneck. She yelped as she was pried from the engine, and Alan yelled after her as Trickster swiftly walked toward the basement with her over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile as he carried her down the stairs, turning the corner and letting her fall to the ground. He had mulled over hooking her in his rough drafts, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he rolled her onto her back and dropped on top of her.

Wake was usually not far behind whenever she was in danger, and Jiwoon wanted him to see this. He took a blade out and plunged it into the fabric of her long-sleeve, cutting it straight up the middle to reveal her bra. Joan stopped struggling and stared at him in shock, but he wanted her to make some noise so he pressed the blade into her shoulder, just deep enough to make her scream. He started to fiddle with the zipper on the side of her skirt and heard Wake come bustling down the stairs as Joan was quietly pleading ‘no, please don't, no no no stop’. Trickster catches his gaze and Wake stops in his tracks in disbelief at the sight. His blood is boiling and his fist is ready to connect with the killer's jaw, but he knows he can't. He’s not allowed to. He'll be punished.

'Good,' Jiwoon thinks, 'stay on script'.

He holds the older man’s gaze as he stands up, leaving Joan writhing beneath him, holding her wound. 

"Heal her." He instructs, and though Alan doesn't quite comprehend what's happening, he rushes to Joan’s side to help her. He sees her exposed chest and cute mint-green bra and forces himself to focus on her injuries, burning a second hole through the hole in her shoulder.

"Allie... Allie..." She cries, grabbing onto his jacket sleeves, her grip loose. 

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm here." 

He tries to reassure her but there's still too many questions about the situation. That and she’s half naked underneath him and he hopes it isn’t obvious he’s avoiding looking her in the eyes. As he finishes healing her and is about to help her stand up, Trickster lunges at him, downing him in one hit. Joan yelps at the sudden movement, jumping away. She wants to run but her feet feel like they’re made out of concrete, sinking her into the floor. Her and the killer stare at each other as he peers over his shoulder, slowly turning to face her as he starts to close the distance between them. She begins to inch away but her back hits a locker, allowing the Trickster to get right in her face. She turns her head away as he holds the blade of his knife up to her neck, slowly lowering it to trail down her stomach to her waist.. 

"Take off your skirt."

"DON'T."

Wake's booming voice bellows off the walls of the basement. For someone who was bleeding out, he sure did have a lot of strength left. Maybe it was just desperation, and that's exactly what Jiwoon wanted. He flashed a crazed smile, turning his attention back to the man on the ground. Wake was lying on his stomach, and Jiwoon easily dropped down on top of him, grabbing the back of his hair and holding his head up with a blade pressed into his neck. 

"Take it off or I'm gutting him like a fish."

Joan’s hands are shaking. She looks back and forth between Alan’s pleading gaze and the line of red threatening to bloom from his neck. She carefully reaches up to the zipper on her plaid skirt and starts pulling it down.

"June.. don't." he stutters out, his breath shaky.

But Joan listens to the popstar, bending one knee and taking one leg out and then the other. She never pulls her gaze away from the knife, afraid that if she blinks it will be pressed further into his skin. She drops it beside her, revealing her matching panties under her pantyhose, and pulls together her blazer over her bare skin in embarrassment.  Jiwoon retracts his knife and suddenly lets go of his grip on Wake's hair. His head drops to the floor. Not much strength left, eh?

"Heal him." he instructs again, and Joan clambers to her partner to stop the bleeding. 

'Perfect. Everything is going perfect'.

"You don't have to do this… You can escape… Please… Joan. Please leave me-." Wake pauses between each sentence, breathing heavily, but gets cut off.

"Don't ever ask me to do something as stupid as that. I woudl never just let him torture you to save my own ass."

"Better me than you. I won't let him.. hurt you." 

Alan was about to say 'I won't let him have you' but stopped himself. That was not what he should be thinking right now. Joan didn't belong to him, and he was married. He had… Alice. Right. That was her name.. He felt guilty every time he looked at Joan and felt something more than friendship. But in this type of situation the lines were starting to blur. How fucking dare he put his hands on her.

"Who says I'll be the one hurting her?" 

Trickster chimes in as Joan finishes her healing. Wake sits up on one knee, still breathing heavily, and Joan bends down with a hand on his shoulder. He reaches a hand up to grab hers, and Jiwoon does his best not to fangirl because holy shit they’re actually touching hands. This was going even better than he had imagined. He made sure to block the exit, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, but no one was moving anyway. They were far too afraid to anger him.

"You two are gonna put on a show for me, a private show, for your loyal, royal, number one fan. You do what I say, and I'll let you wander the fog together, safe until the next game. How does that sound?"

The pair stared up at him confused.

"A show?" Alan questions, angrily. "What the hell are you talking about? We’re not your playthings."

"Woah, chill out man. I thought you'd be jumping at the chance to protect miss victoria's-secret-model here from the clutches of my toned abs."

Jiwoon points to his stomach dramatically, and Joan blushes deeper, trying to further hide behind Alan. He straightens his back in response, trying to protect her. Jiwoon almost can't keep his act together. He begins to walk towards them again, knife first, and points it right in Wake's face.

"On your back." he instructs, but doesn't wait for him to lie down, instead pushing him down by his shoulders. He groans in pain at the sudden movement, only half-healed. Trickster then grabs Joan by her shoulders, and shoves her down. Her knees hit the floor on both sides of Wake's waist, effectively straddling him. Their crotches connect causing both of them to flinch, and Joan does her best to pull herself off him. He uses their shock to slowly lower himself behind Joan.

"Undo his belt." Trickster whispers, leaning his chest into her back. He presses his knees into Alan’s thighs to prevent him from getting up or kicking her off.

"Wh-.... I-.... I-..." She stutters out, staring at the slightly exposed skin from under Alan’s untucked shirt.

"Unless you want me to make him pick his intestines off the floor, do what I say. Undo his belt. Now."

Joan and Alan hold eye contact again. His gaze seems to beg her not to, but not because he doesn't want her to.

"You don't have to do this Jun-."

Trickster holds the knife to her neck and she gasps. Wake freezes just as he's about to sit up. He knows it's a threat to keep him lying down. Trickster read his movements like a book.

"Oh, but she's going to. Isn't that right, Junebug?"

Joan’s lip quivers. That was the nickname her dad used to call her, the one she shared with Alan. That was the reason he called her ‘June’. How could the killer possibly know that? It frightened her even more.

"I-I'm-. I'm sorry, I-." she stuttered out as she took the metal clasp of Alan’s belt into her shaking hands, fiddling with the loop until it was open and unable to stop her repeated cycle of apologies.

"Now undo his pants." 

She does as she's told, and Jiwoon keeps instructing her through it. 

"Pull them down. Then his boxers. Gooood girl."

Joan shimmies the fabric down and her pupils go wide as his cock springs free, half hard. She had always fantasized about having her way with him in a match, but not like this. This just made her feel awful. And she felt even worse about how wet she was getting from forcing herself on him. Alan turned his head away, unable to face the effect she had on him. 

'That's fine.' Trickster thought, 'Let's see how long you'll be able to keep that up.'

"Put your hand around him. Yeaaah just like that. Now start stroking uppp and downn." 

Joan’s grip is loose as she feels the guilt taking over her. Is this really that much better than being tortured with a knife? This was its own fucked up type of torture. Things would never be the same between them when they made it out of here. How could she ever face him again? Jiwoon noticed her hesitation and gripped his own hand around hers, forcing her to grip Wake harder. He guided her hand as she stroked him, and Wake clenched his teeth trying not to let a whimper escape. Her hand was so soft and it felt so good, but it was so so fucking wrong. 

"Keep going. Faster." Trickster releases Joan’s hand when he's satisfied she won't disobey him again. He lets the scene play on until he starts to see Wake buck his hips up into her hand. 

"Stop."

Joan freezes, Alan’s hard cock pulsing in her stationary hand.

"Don't. Move."

Jiwoon snakes an arm around her waist, bringing the knife between the flat fabric of her bra at the centre of her chest, and yanks upward, cutting it clean in half. Her breasts bounce free, and she's quick to try and cover them but the killer catches her forearms before she can do so, pulling her whole body back and pushing her head forward. Her lips brush across Alan’s tip.

"Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Do not make me ask you twice."

Joan once again does as she's told, beginning to lick a line up his shaft. Her breath is quivering, and it's hot against Wake's skin. He can't help himself and glances up to see Joan’s tits pressed into his crotch, her face flushed, her lips red. He gulps. 

‘Think of Alice, think of Alice, think of-…’ he repeats over and over in his head.

Trickster notices the silent battle and his eyes twinkle. He takes the opportunity to let go of Joan’s wrists and instead gathers her hair back so it doesn't get in her face.

"Start sucking."

She closes her eyes, letting her sinful thoughts take over and hollowing her cheeks out. She was saving them both. She shouldn't feel bad. She also shouldn't be enjoying it as much as she was, but she couldn’t deny the feelings she harboured for him. She knew he must feel something for her. They shared far too many intimate moments for their relationship to be seen as 'just friends'. They were both being reduced to sweating, moaning messes. It wouldn’t be long before their animalistic instincts took over. It was getting Trickster hard just watching them, but that wasn't what he was here for.

Joan went up and down, sucking hard and swirling her tongue around. It felt so good Alan was seeing stars. He closed his eyes and all he could see was her face. She was god damned good at this. Better than his wife, which was a dangerous thought to think but he couldn't help himself. He hadn't felt the touch of a woman in god knows how long, and now a woman he had strictly forbidden himself from touching was hitting his cock against the back of her throat.

"Help guide her head."

Wake was snapped out of his ruminating to see Trickster staring directly at him from behind Joan. It was almost as if he was hypnotising him. His arms unconsciously began to lift and his hands touched Joan’s head, pressing her down and lifting her back up, matching her rhythm. It wasn't long before his grip had tightened and he was shoving her up and down further and faster to get him closer to his high. His hips bucked into her face and it made his belt jingle. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, threatening to burst. But Trickster wasn't done yet. He yanked Joan off of him by her hair, a line of her spit trailing between them, and Alan whined as he felt the cold breeze wash over his raw, aching cock. He was so close.

"You cum when I say you can." The killer said, pleased with the reaction he was getting. He turned his attention to Joan. "We’re only halfway through the show, no skipping to the good part."

He let go of her hair and pushed her over onto Alan, her breasts hitting the fabric of his dress shirt as she was pressed into his chest and felt his bare cock on her stomach. Trickster wasted no time cutting a hole into the back of her pantyhose, ripping them apart with his hands. He then hooked his hands under her shoulders and pulled her back up. 

“Move your panties to the side.” He said into Joan’s ear, loud enough for Wake to hear. “And YOU. I’m not touchin another dude’s junk, so hold it up, and make sure it’s straight.”

Time seemed to slow as the words fell from the killer’s mouth. A shameful blowjob for the killer’s entertainment was one thing, but actually making them fuck each other? Just what kind of game was this psycho playing? This was on a whole other level of wrong, specifically a line in the sand that was never supposed to be crossed, and the Trickster was like a strong gust of wind just blowing it away. Neither of them could look at each other, and Jiwoon felt the tension in the air. No one dared to move. Was this a bad end? Did his plan fail?? Was this the one fic tag he had glanced over in the beginning coming to fruition, #no happy ending??? He almost regretted everything he had done to them… Almost. Just as he was about to start waving a white blade in defeat, he felt Joan’s arm moving. She reached down to her groin, slowly pulling the thin fabric away from her sex. He looked down to see Wake’s hand firmly grasping his erection, his head still looking to the side with his eyes closed. The shame wasn't enough to make them stop what he had started. He felt a crazed smile curling at his lips again. HE KNEW THEY WOULD PULL THROUGH!!!! HE SHOULD’VE NEVER DOUBTED HIS POWER COUPLE IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!!!! HASHTAG LOVE WINS OR WHATEVER!!!!

He slowly lowered her down. Joan felt the tip hit her and she gasped at the contact as Alan dragged himself over her folds, trying to find her entrance without having to look at it. Rather than shame, the feeling was embarrassment. Neither of them wanted to do this in front of someone, let alone one of the people who killed them for sport. But neither of them could stop themselves. It was just like the Trickster had envisioned. Wake slightly raised his hips to push the tip of his cock inside of Joan, and she couldn’t help but let a moan escape her lips. 

“Is it in?” The Trickster asked flatly.

“Y-yes…” Joan had whimpered out. Without warning, the Trickster had let go of her arms, and she dropped down hard onto Alan’s crotch, completely swallowing him. She cried out, having no time to adjust to his girth. He was so big that it was painful. She carefully lifted her hips as her walls burned, but Trickster shoved her back down, and she let out another cry. Alan was suffering in a different way. She was gripping him so hard, her sex was tight and warm and wet, he was holding himself back from gripping her hips and thrusting up into her like a wild animal. 

“I-it hurts.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Jiwoon replied thoughtlessly on purpose, leaving room for Wake to speak up and comfort her. And he did, right on script. He reached out a hand toward her, and she met him halfway, reaching out her own to intertwine their fingers.

“H-hey, June. I-it’s okay. It’s okay. Look at me, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m right here.” His voice was trembling as he tried his best to soothe her. He glared at the man standing over them, and Jiwoon put his hands up in defeat, letting their story play out without any more of his direct intervention. He backed away, watching them from a safe distance, and took out his knives to fiddle with as a warning, making sure Wake got the message. He did.

“O-okay. Okay. It’s alright. I’m alright.” Joan replied, her words just as shaky as Alan’s. Jiwoon didn’t need to tell them what to do next. They already knew. Alan put his free hand on her thigh.

“Start slow, okay? We’ll go slow. Just focus on me. Focus on your breathing. No crying, okay? I know you can be a crybaby.” Alan tried his luck at a joke, and was able to pull a chuckle from Joan’s lips. 

“O-okay.” She laughed, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Slow. We’ll go slow.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“N-no no. No. I can do it.”

She delicately raised herself up the smallest amount she could manage, and lowered herself back down. Alan whined at the friction. She felt so fucking good and he needed more. She kept going, steadying her breathing, her grip on Alan’s hand getting tighter. Her walls were relaxing around him, but she was still so god damn tight. She reached a finger to her clit, rubbing it in circles and it made her moans become louder. They were music to Alan’s ears. But Alan had a wife. What about your wife, Alan? Remember her? Her name-... Her… what was her name again…? Joan began to speed up, allowing his name to roll off her tongue, and he tilted his head back, letting it hit the floor as he closed his eyes. Shit, this feeling was dangerous. He began to match her movements, thrusting in and out, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder. They almost forgot about the other presence in the room. Trickster watched them intently, beginning to palm himself over his pants. Was this the type of stuff survivors got up to in their spare time? He almost wished he could share a tent with Yunjin. Damn, this was fucking hot. It was a million times better than the way he conjured it up in his head. Imagine your wildest fanfiction dreams being acted out in a way you could watch over and over and over again. Oh! He almost forgot! Danny, the Ghost Face, had generously lent him his camera for this very reason, though he wanted him to fail miserably just to see the sad look on his face, he was also secretly a #Aloan shipper.

Jiwoon shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and fished out the silver digital camera, turning it on. He wasn’t into photos like Danny, he strictly wanted to capture videos. He flicked around with the settings until he deemed it perfect, and pressed the shutter. The camera made a beeping noise to signal that it was now recording, and he stalked closer to the couple, capturing their intimate moment forever on film. Joan took notice and started to slow her movements, her anxiety taking over, but Alan reassured her, picking up her slack by thrusting deeper.

“Hey, hey. Keep looking at me. It’s okay June. It’s okay. You’re okay. You're here with me.”

But the Trickster was starting to become impatient. He put the camera on the ground, pointing it toward them.

“Alright, love birds. He smirked. “Time for the big finale.” 

He sauntered over to them, pulling Joan off of Wake once again. They both felt the disconnect this time, whining in sync as Joan was pushed onto her back. The ground was cold and unwelcoming. Jiwoon crouched down, spreading his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. Alan also half-sat up on his elbows, looking directly into the killer’s piercing stare, almost as if asking 'what the hell do you want now?'. He leaned in closer to the man on the floor.

“Now get on top of her and fuck her brains out.” Trickster winked.

He pushed himself up off his knees and walked away, back into the corner where he came from, picking up the camera as he went. He waited.

“If you don’t put your dick inside her, I will.” He called out from across the room. “And I know you don't want anyone else’s dick anywhere near her.”

Alan hated him. He hated how right he was. Hated how hearing those words made him feel. Joan was his woman. No one else could have her, not while he was around. Over his goddamn dead body. He turned to his side and got on his hands and knees, crawling the short distance over to her until he was right on top of her, his legs inbetween her own. His tie fell into her face, and she sheepishly reached up to loosen it. He bent his head down so she could pull it off of him.

“Thanks…” He muttered.

She pressed her lips together and nodded in response, looking down. His hard cock was hovering above her stomach, and she felt a bolt of lightning go through her body. Alan lowered his gaze too, eyes landing on her perfect tits. He tried not to think about how he wanted them in his mouth, but he failed miserably.

“I’m losin battery life here, folks. Get on with it.”

The Trickster feigned impatience but he just really wanted them to start talking to each other. He pointed the camera back at them, adjusting the zoom. The pair’s eyes looked towards him, the camera, then back at each other like deer in the headlights.

“I’m sorry we have to do this in front of him.” Alan offered his sympathy, but Joan’s reply surprised him.

“This isn't how I imagined how first time. I wish it was different than this.” She smiled, but tears started to prickle in her eyes. 

Shit. 

Alan steadied himself, thinking over his options before he got closer to her face, and kissed her forehead gently.

“I promise I will protect you. You’re safe as long as you’re with me. Alright?”

Joan swiftly nodded, trying not to let her tears spill. He continued.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. I-I trust you, yes. Of course I do.”

“Can I put it inside you?”

Joan hesitated, looking down again. Alan was lining himself up. She looked back up and in a moment of bravery reached up to cup his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He was shocked, but kissed her back. That was answer enough for him. They kept kissing as he rubbed himself over folds again, pressing the tip gently in and out. He pushed further in, and Joan gasped, but he caught her lips again and continued to kiss her. He kept slowly pushing in and out, going further each time he went in, until he was fully sheathed inside her. They both let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Yep. This was WAYYY better than the Trickster had hoped for.

“I’m gonna start moving, okay? Are you ready?”

“I-I’m ready.”

Alan pulled back, but paused for a moment.

“Do you… want this?”

“What?” Joan asked in disbelief. Trickster cocked his head to the side behind the camera. Was he really asking this right now?

“I like you, Joan. If we’re really doing this, I need to know that you want thi-.”

He was cut off by Joan reaching up again to kiss him. She was the one to pull back first so she could reply.

“Alan Wake, you big stupid oblivious man. I like you. So much. I didn’t want to overstep but, wasn’t it obvious…?”

“I… I like you too. I like you so much too-.”

Wake’s words were cut off again by himself this time, pressing their lips together, this time with a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. Joan reached her hands up to run them through his hair. Jiwoon was screaming internally. He felt like a fan watching their idol finally receive a daesang after being with them since debut. He was SO making his own #Aloan banners and lightsticks when he got back, and he was SO rubbing it into Merchant’s face. Hell, he wanted to throw a fucking pizza party. He should start planning that ASAP.

Alan pushed himself back inside Joan, and she flinched as he spread her walls apart. She was soaking wet and her juices were rubbing all over Alan’s crotch. He began to speed up as he pushed her legs further apart, pulling her down by the thighs, closer to his body. They never broke the kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths. Joan removed her hands from his hair and brought them to his dress shirt, fumbling around with the buttons until they were all undone. She ran her hands over his toned torso, wanting to feel as much of him and she could. This made Alan pull back from the kiss and adjust himself, and Joan was confused until he gripped the sides of her hips and began pounding into her with the fire of a thousand suns. The basement was filled with the sound of their love making, loud, breathy moans, each other's names falling lovingly from their lips inbetween deep kisses, and the hot squelching noises of their juices mixing between them. Joan's back arched off the ground and she closed her eyes, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth, embarrassed at the noises she was making. Alan saw what she was doing, and had other plans. He took both of her wrists in his hands, pulling them up over her head and holding them firmly in place.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear you.”

He sped up his pace even faster, dipping his head down to lick and suck on her neck. Her breasts bounced against his chest, feeling her nipples against him was driving him crazy.

“W-wait, that’s- ah, s-s-sensitive-, ahh.”

Hearing her say that had him sucking harder, leaving a trail of hickeys leading down to her collar bones. He started kissing a line down to her breasts, and adjusted his grip on her arms, moving them so they were beside her head. This allowed him to keep going down her body, and he licked over one of her nipples as her body curled to the side and his cock to hit a sweet spot inside her. The sound she let out went straight to his groin, and he alternated between sucking and biting on her breast and nipple. He let go of one her wrists to take her other breast in his hand. She brought one of her legs up and rested it on his shoulder, letting him thrust deeper inside her, hitting her cervix.

“A-Allie… Allie- ah, I-I’m gonna- o-oh my god I’m gonna-.”

She stuttered out his pet name as she felt the build up between her legs like a dam threatening to burst. Her stomach was coiling tighter and tighter into itself. Alan let go of her other arm, and she brought them down to grip onto his forearms.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck i’m gonna- I-I’m, oh fuck Alan.”

“Cum for me baby. Cum for me. It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you. You're safe. I've got you baby.”

He whispered sweet nothings in her ear as he felt her begin to tense around him, keeping his same pace to drive her straight over the edge. She was going to speak up again, but her orgasm suddenly hit her, and she sputtered his name over and over again between moans as her whole body violently twitched underneath him. She threw her head back, and it hit against the ground before he placed his hand under it, stopping it from hitting the concrete floor. He slowed his thrusting as her walls pulsed around him, trying to milk his own orgasm out of him, but he wasn’t ready to cum yet. He planted gentle kisses all over her face, landing on her lips.

“You’re doing so well baby, you’re doing so well for me.”

Her chest was heaving, her breathing heavy as she came down from her high, her eyes fluttering. Alan continued to kiss her neck softly, slowly pushing in and out.

“Can I keep going, or do you want to stop?”

Joan thought about it as if she had a choice. Her droopy eyes glanced over to the killer in the corner, his camera flashing to signal that it was still recording. Alan followed her gaze, nearly forgetting the reason they were doing this in the first place.

“W-we can stop now-.”

“No.”

He began to pull away from her, but she stopped him, putting a hand on his cheek and giving him a soft smile.

“I want you to keep going. Keep going until you're satisfied.”

“I-I… don't want to overdo it.”

“You won’t.”

“Please tell me if I do.”

“I will. Of course I will… He told you to fuck my brains out, remember?”

“Pfft.” 

That earned a snicker from Wake. At least she could still find some humour in this situation, as fucked up as it was. 

“You really want me to fuck your brains out…?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I walk with a limp back to the campfire. Do your worst, Wake.”

Joan smirked, and it caught Alan off guard. This was a new side he was seeing for the first time, and he didn’t hate it. 

“Alright. You asked for it.”

He pulled out of her, wasting no time to flip her onto her stomach. The cold floor made her nipples hard, and she shivered at the contact. He grabbed her waist, pulling her ass up into the air and spanking it with a loud smack. She yelped from beneath him, but moaned into it. It was his turn to smirk.

‘Do your worst, huh?’ he thought. But he wanted to save some stuff for when they were truly alone. He grabbed the waistband of her ripped pantyhose and her underwear, pulling them both down in one swift motion and smacked her now bare ass again, enjoying every new noise he could pull from her lips. He took a good look at her sex, and she could feel his burning gaze, becoming embarrassed. She was about to regret asking for more when he plunged two fingers into her, scissoring them around a bit before adding another. She was so fucking warm, and soaking wet. And the smell of sex was driving him insane. He wondered if she ever touched herself to the thought of him, and the image of her whimpering his name alone in her tent set off something inside of him. He pulled his fingers back and licked them clean. 

Shaking off his blazer, it dropped to the floor next to him. He was sweating like a mule. He decided to take off his shirt too, it was already half off anyway. He looked back down to Joan, and decided to undress her too. 

“Put your arms back for me baby.”

She did as she was told, and he grabbed onto the cuffs of her own blazer, pulling it off with the remnant of her turtleneck, leaving her bare back exposed. She put her hands back down to the floor, shivering again, but he grabbed her biceps pulling her back. He pressed his chest into her arched back, and she rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him. 

“I wanna feel you baby, your skin on mine.”

“I-I’d like that.”

Joan stuttered out a reply as she felt his cock get hard again, pressing into her ass. He released her arms to grab her boobs, and kneaded them, softly tugging at her nipples. His cock was dripping with precum as he rubbed himself against her, and she pressed herself back, further into him. 

“I’m gonna put it in.”

He was about to reach down one of his hands but she stopped him.

“No, let me… Okay?”

Her fingertips brushed against him, delicately stroking him, and his breath hitched.

“O-okay.”

He returned his hand to her breast, and planted a trail of kisses across her shoulders as she prepared herself. She rubbed him along her folds until she settled on her hole, and pushed back to bury the tip inside her. Alan thrusted the tip in and out a few times before jerking his hips forward and back, immediately setting a relentless pace. Joan cried out, not from pain, but from the pleasure taking over her. Wake could tell the difference and didn’t stop, letting his carnal instincts take over. He shoved himself deeper and deeper inside of her, his pace as rapid as his own heartbeat that was pounding out of his chest. Fucking hell she was melting around him. He wrapped his arms around body and burried his head in his neck, holding her firmly in place as if she would disappear, biting down on her shoulder, leaving a mark but not drawing blood. She tried to meet his pace but it was proving to be impossible. He was eating her like she was his last meal, he wanted to devour her whole. He kept trying to remind himself how dangerous this was, but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to make sure she remembered the shape of his cock. It felt so good, and she sounded like heaven. She couldn’t stop moaning and cursing.

“God I just want to destroy you.” He let his thoughts mix with his words as he felt his climax reaching its peak. His breathing was heavy, his voice low and husky. He was almost growling. 

“I’ve held back for so, so long. I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

“Allie, A-Allieeee, ugh. Don’t stop Allie. I-I’m gonna-”

“Keep saying my name- ugh, k-keep saying my name. You’re mine. O-only I get to- ugh.. fuck you like this. Fuck, Joan. Joannn. Ughh Joan.”

His movements were becoming erratic and sloppy, and his grip around her tightened, bending her over slightly to fuck into her from a different angle. He was so damn close. He was gonna fill her up so good. So fucking goo-.

“F-fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK, ugh, Joannn. Fuuuck, ughhh.”

He sputtered out, his voice turning into a sweet melody of whimpers as he pumped everything he had into her. Joan felt her walls get sticky, and Alan didn’t relent his pace. Her second orgasm washed over her as he continued to cum, holding her firmly in place as he felt her spasm under him. She dropped her head forward, exhausted, and he finally began to slow to a stop. Their breathing was the only thing they could hear as he gently relaxed his grip and pulled out of her. Joan collapsed on the ground, her ass sticking out in the air, giving Alan the perfect view of his cum dripping out of her. 

Damnit, he wanted to fuck her again.

“You think you can get pregnant in here?”

A chipper voice broke through the private moment, causing Wake’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. The Trickster was right beside him, leaning forward and admiring the view. Wake quickly grabbed his blazer off the floor and draped it over Joan’s rear, covering her from the killer’s sick gaze. He got between them as he stood up and pulled up his boxers, staring daggers into the idol. 

‘Hey, that’s my job.’ he thought, flashing Wake a smile. Wake just furrowed his brows deeper.

“Show’s over, pal. We did what you wanted.” He said sternly. They had held up their end of the deal, now it was time for Trickster to make good on his word. He chuckled, leaning back to stand up straight.

“Yeah yeah, I suppose you did.” ‘You did that and more,’ he thought to himself. “Well! I’ll let you two get dressed. I’ll be just upstairs.” He sang as he sauntered up the stairs, leaving the pair alone. Joan had begun to get up from the ground, turning herself over to sit down properly. She realized she was sitting on Alan’s blazer.

“Oh- Alan. I’m making your jacket all… gross. ” She whispered the last part, a bit ashamed. She began to stand up but forgot her pantyhose were around her thighs, limiting her movement. Her feet caught on themselves and she began to tumble forward, colliding with Alan’s chest as he caught her in time, her breasts pressing into him again. He sighed lovingly, looking down at her.

“So… walking with a limp, huh?”

She blushed, hitting his shoulder. 

“Not a word until we’re out of here mister.”

“Are sure you're able to walk out of here?”

“Not another word!” She huffed as he laughed, pulling herself off of him only to be pulled back, a kiss pressed against her lips. Alan’s gaze softened as he pulled away.

“I love you.”

“!”

Joan squeaked at the sudden confession. He WHAT!? Alan LOVED her? Her!? The same her that was an absolute liability in matches and wouldn’t know map sense if a pallet hit her in the face, and Alan was there to save the day every single time. Steam came out of her ears as her brain tried to process the information. Alan frowned awkwardly at her overthinking.

“You don’t have to give me an answer-.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO.”

His eyes went wide as he was cut off by Joan's sudden yelling. Embarrassment washed over her face and she dropped her gaze to the ground.

“I-I mean.. I love you too, Allie. I have.. for a while…” 

She sheepishly looked up at him, suddenly scared to hear his response, but was met with a goofy grin instead.

“What…?” She asked, wondering if something was funny.

Alan offered no verbal response and instead started laughing, lifting her up and twirling her around. 

“A-Alan! Hey!”

She joined in on laughing with him, and they spun around giggling until they settled down.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” 

He flashed a genuine, glowing smile, and all Joan could do was warmly smile back, careful not to start sobbing on the spot. That would have to wait for later, when they weren’t in a literal meat freezer. 

Oh. Right.

They both seemed to realize where they were again and quickly released each other, beginning to pick up their clothes and get dressed. All the while, Jiwoon was quietly listening on the staircase, looking like the meme of the guy crying while holding the lightsticks in Wake Up, Girls!

His ship had finally sailed.

/////

As they made their way up the stairs, the Trickster was awaiting them at the top, leaning cooly against a locker, admiring his nails absentmindedly. He totally hadn’t been eavesdropping, psh, not a chance, he would never do that. He looked at the survivors up and down. Joan had chosen to discard her mauled tights, and was wearing Wake's dress shirt. Wake wore his jacket with no shirt underneathe. Both of their hair was a bit of a mess. And they were holding hands.

STAGE CLEAR .ᐟ‧₊˚✩彡

“I suppose a deal’s a deal.” Trickster said nonchalantly, trying to sound as bored as possible. He sighed extra loud for dramatic effect. Alan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. So, we’re gonna go work on the last gen-.”

As if God himself had intervened, the last gen lit up across the map, signalling its completion, and the exit alarm started blaring. They all heard the exit gates opening and stared at each other in disbelief. 

It seems the Entity had had enough and was telling them to get the fuck out.

“I’ll, uh… walk you two out. Ha ha… ha.” Trickster said, trailing off his laugh. He was sure to get a mouthful when he got back. He hoped the beating wasn’t too bad this time. He knew it would be. It was worth it. Totally worth it.

He swivelled on his heel toward the exit and led the newly announced couple to the edge of the map and through the exit doors, stopping just before the spikes came up signalling he couldn’t go any further.

“Pleasure doin business with ya, Wakey. Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”

Alan let go of Joan's hand and straightened his back, getting right in Trickster’s face.

“Let’s not, yeah?”

Jiwoon felt his overwhelming presence and immediately backed down, dropping his shoulders as if to protect himself. He placed his hands in his pockets and felt the cool plastic casing of the digital camera. His eyes flickered back and forth between the pair. He was about to say something along the lines of ‘have a safe trip home!’ but felt he had said enough for the day. He simply nodded as Wake led Joan into the fog, placing a hand around her lower back and pulling her closer. The pair had seldom thought how they were going to start to unpack what had just happened to them. They felt it was in their best interest to just ignore it and hope for the best; they'd jump off that bridge when they got to it. But they had one another to help the other through the nightmares now. There was no space left between them anymore, no need to keep each other at arm's length. They were truly together. And they'd be even more together sharing a tent later tonight to finish what they had started without a serial killer across the room.

Jiwoon watched as they started to disappear, and noticed Joan was slightly faltering as she went. Was she walking with a limp…?

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck and looking around as if someone could be watching him. When they were completely gone, he let his crazed smile light up his face and he squealed, jumping around and waving his hands in the air. 

The other killers were not gonna BELIEVE this.

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

14, 20, 26 for your ship of choice! ❤️

Let's goooooo, Czerny/Ebenholz time! (Oh boy these answers got long.)

14. "How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?" Both of them are passionate and empathetic souls who care so damn deeply about everything, even if they seem taciturn at first glance. This is both a blessing and a curse for them! Because when these two are in alignment, they are absolutely unstoppable, amplifying each other's strengths while compsensating for each other's weaknesses. But when they disagree on something, it's all fire and fury, and heaven help anyone who tries to get between them before they've cooled back down.

20. "Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship." This may sound odd, but hear me out: Sleeve by Erin Coburn, which I associated with them the moment I heard it. It's a song about having a closed-off heart that gave up on love, to finally becoming so passionately in love that they want their love to be paraded everywhere. Which already fits how I hc their relationship as they fall for each other, but the line that really gets me? "You make me want to throw away my storyline and make a new one with you." Because that's exactly what happened! Multiple times! Czerny's music helped inspire Ebenholz to play. Meeting in person for the first time led to that fateful concert that changed their lives and ultimately got them both out of their respective cages. And that point in Ebenholz's operator where he plays cello for the people of Vysenheim where even Czerny cannot, I'd argue that affects their trajectory too and brings them more in-line with each other. (This is also a theme that keeps coming up in my Czernholz fics, where their relationship gives both of them the strength to turn against the tracks their lives were on and forge a new one together.)

26. "What are their vices?" Ebenholz's is Sloth, which manifests alternatively as apathy and despair. Ebenholz has no time for things he deems boring, be it repetitive work or endless drills over seemingly simple things, so he'll often try to weasel out of such tasks. And when stress mounts, there are times when he crumbles in despair without a support network; sometimes holding onto hope is so damn hard. Czerny's vice is Stubbornness, an inversion of the typical virtue of Fortitude. Czerny has a hard time letting go of anything; his grief, his anger, his opinions of others, the projects he's currently working on. Change is a difficult thing for Czerny even when he wants it, because he feels lost without what he finds familiar, even when he knows it's hurting him in the end. (Ever notice that in the Afterglow Music room furniture, some of the pieces are his own furniture he couldn't part with, including a table with a vase of artificial flowers that'll never wilt? Or the note about the pair of jackets that Ebenholz cleans every day, but he can't keep the white one pure white? yeah.)

Thanks for sending me these questions! Full list here for more OTP asks!

[scottysketches]

a late wip wednesday

I recently played through AC Revelations for the first time in 6 years, and was very quickly reminded just how much I love the relationship between Ezio and Sofia (and especially how it's expanded upon in the novelisation of the game), so I very quickly whipped this up on Wednesday.... then forgot to post it lmao. I just love them, okay?

-----

He falters in his purposeful stride through the park when he finally spots Sofia. She hasn’t noticed him yet, and so he takes the opportunity to just drink in her visage. She’s sat with her legs folded beneath her on a Persian rug, with various foods and wines in front of her, and— And he chuckles, because she’s surrounded by white tulips, the very same flowers she had asked him to fetch her. He hides his bunch behind his back as he approaches her.

At the sound of his soft footfalls on the rug, Sofia looks up at him with a smile, and his heart pounds. He smiles back, a touch confused and slightly taken aback. “What is this?”

“A gift. Sit.” He does so, but first he bows deferentially first and hands her the tulips he had gathered. He stretches out next to her, leaning up on one elbow, and he watches as her smile widens, and it feels like his heart is beating between his ears. “Che belli, grazie!” The woman next to him inhales their sweet scent deeply, before turning her head to look down at him. “I wanted to thank you for letting me play a small role in your adventure.”

Ezio smiles, pushing his hood down. It’s risky, revealing his face to the public — particularly in the wake of Tarik Barleti’s death at his hands, with the Janissaries after him — but he finds he doesn’t care. In Sofia’s company, he feels comfortable enough to let her see him sans hood. One strand of his greying black hair falls in front of his eyes. “A small role is enough for this adventure, believe me.”

Sofia laughs, looking away from him for a second and shaking her head as though she’s slightly exasperated with his consistent non-answers. “You are a mystery, Ezio Auditore.”

He pouts playfully, placing his free hand over his heart. “Mi dispiace. I do not mean to be.”

“It is fine,” Sofia says, then pauses. Her cheeks are pink, and she looks down at him, her teeth tugging on her lower lip. “È affascinante.”

His eyes widen slightly as he turns his head to look up at her. Her words ring in his head. It’s attractive. His breath catches in his throat, not wanting to celebrate prematurely, and he instead turns his focus to the food she’s laid out for them — a blend of foods from both of their hometowns: moleche and rixoto de gò from Venezia, and panzanella and salame toscano from Firenze; figs from Tuscolo and olives from Piceno; a dish of macaroni and turbot. It’s all paired with a Frescobaldi, a Toscano wine. “Sembra squisito.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Any luck with the final code?” he asks, though his mind is decidedly not focused on their work, and Sofia glances away with a smile.

“Ah, the code. Sì. I solved it many hours ago.” Ezio can’t help raising an eyebrow at this, amused that Sofia has clearly already fulfilled her end of their bargain and just sent him to collect tulips so that she could put this picnic together. “You will get it soon enough.” She looks back at him, then, and the emotion glittering in her eyes — oft touted as the window to a person’s soul — breaks down the last defences around his heart, his heart that pounds like a war drum in his chest. His eyes flit down to her lips, and he wonders how they would feel against his own. He does not act on his desires, however, instead allowing the woman who has captured his heart to pamper him.

The last person to do so had been Caterina Sforza, the eve of Cesare Borgia’s attack on Monteriggioni, but he holds no fondness for her now. Her sensual treatment of him had been for an ulterior purpose, to secure an alliance between the Assassins and her forces in Forlì — all thrown to the wind with her capture and the destruction of Villa Auditore. She was dead now, anyway, he remembers Machiavelli telling him of her death before his departure for Acre.

He has no such doubts as to Sofia’s intentions, because as much as she holds herself back, she wears her heart on her sleeve, and his heart thunders away in his chest at the juvenile hope that this time — just this once — his instincts are correct.

[ronmanmob]

Beth and Ron <3

Ships In The Night Meme

Rate: NOTP | Ew | Nah | Alright | Cute | I LOVE them | They are perfect | OTP | THEY ARE MY BEAUTIFUL, SWEET CHILDREN AND I SHALL PROTECT THEM AS THEIR MOTHER

Who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon?

If Ronnie and Beth find themselves abed at the same time - which is an occasionally rare thing if the heat's sending Ron up the wall or either of their medication regimens is making sleep/general comfort impossible - and the mood's right for a snuggle, Ron's usually the one who tugs his slight and dusky counterpart into the curve of his body rather than Beth curling round him from behind. Rare's the day the reverse comes to pass. If it does, something's beyond off in Ron's world.

Adult!Verse heights

Ronnie's somewhere between 5'7 and 5'10 depending on how closely you'd like to imagine him resembling his real life counterpart (who was a stately 5'7.5 foot in his socks. Beth most often starts her day at 5'0 (5'1 if the day's beginning includes a dancing to the radio interlude and she ends up stood light as a bird on Ron's feet while they sway) and can end particularly tasking ones at 4'11 and a sneeze.

Who falls asleep while watching romcoms?

"Bold'a yah t'assume I sleep!" burbled Mr Sudden Laughter.

Who suggests watching romcoms?

See, without a nudge in their direction Ron isn't much of a romcom type of fella. He's more a historical drama or documentary sort. So the nudge may need to come from Beth, ever a particular title caught her fancy. He'd watch along contentedly though, and if he enjoyed the genre particularly there's nothing to say Ron wouldn't peruse the shelves of his preferred streaming service.

Who makes all the decisions?

"Neivah." There's a finality and a distaste in the word for the very notion that there might be some kind of imbalance of sway, will or power in his relationship with Beth. It leeches into the furrow of Ron's brow and the set of his shoulders. "Th'word's egalitarian. She 'n I, we's th'same. Ain't no imp'asition ov will or nuffin' like it. If th'decision's f'us as a couple, we decide t'gevah."

Who carries the other one to bed when they fell asleep on the couch?

Laughter's implication escapes through a huff. "She'd 'av a job 'eftin' us up on 'er shouldahs, bless 'er. If there's carryin' t'do, s'my arms, my back, my shouldahs tha' 'old 'er."

Who proposes?

"THAT" Ron said. "Would be absalutely tellin'..."

Will they have a big wedding?

A similarly secretive cast endures in Ron's expression, and he shakes his head mutedly once, twice...But then, the presence of his twin brother encroaching suddenly, the gears switch visibly. He enlivens, new energy in his hands, his expression, the rakish grin tugging his lips back off his teeth--

"M'a Kray, ain't I! We don't do fings li'le. It'd be St Pauls prob'ly. All'a East Lahndan invited, Reg as me best man...Yeah."

All that sounded like Hell, but facades were there for keeping.

"Yeah" Ron repeated, his hopes pinned on sounding like Reg thought he should. "--It could get massive."

Who accidentally eats all the popcorn while sharing a box?

@Beth

Who pays for dates?

"Once upon a time I would insist" Ron said. "Bu' since we settled in t'gevah we eivah split th'bill or take turns payin'. Neivah ov us struggles f'cash, so treatin' th'ovvah's more a gesture 'ov affection than anyfin-- Not tha' it weren't b'fore."

Who’s the most romantic?

Ron's head wobbles slightly from side to side in a kind of I'm weighing up that question gesture. Endless examples of their specific kind of romance flicker by - everything from making a simple but delicious dinner together, long walks with the dogs hand in hand, heady tears enjoyed in shared glee through all of Covent Garden's bespoke eateries and store-fronts, to morning sways to music, surprise visits to each other's place of work on a lunch break to deliver a sweet treat, carnal nights...

A smirk flickers onto Ron's lips.

"--Egalitarian" he says. "We're much th'same."

Random headcanon

Ron isn't the best with spelling and grammar - the legacy of spending much of his school life working to help support his mum and siblings - and his handwriting when he's putting down his own thoughts or words on paper can be anything between passable-ish to fucking appalling. However, when he's copying down a menu onto a chalk board, or decorating that board with lettering that he's got a reference picture for, he's actually quite the artist. "It ain't writin', is it" he's commented when the discrepancy's been pointed out. "M'drawin'...S'different."

[jeffrinson]

Sincerely, Yours.

Hallo, I'm Arland Nathaniel Jeffrinson. Born with Leo as his sign and fully living his life as ENTJ as his personality. I'm on legal age (25+), and prefers the pronouns he/him. A man whose role is to dominate, I can goes whether it's a girl or a boy. I'm a person with a lot of charm and affection to share with my beloved one, you. I can be your home and I might give you a little pat-pat when you feel kinda down? No worries, I'll keep you safe no matter what.

Under the personage, I'm a such clingy person. l can be your safe place and be the greatest listener for you at the same time. Oh, and I have a soft spot for animals, especially a cat and a dog. I grew up as a warm person that likes to talk as much as I like to listen. There will be an endless conversations that you don't needed to worry since I have bunch of topics that I can share with. I laugh a lot even for just a simple or garing jokes or bapak-bapak jokes, so maybe you can tell that I could be such humorous and the sweetest boyfriend for you. Aside from that, a story from yours surely will make me happy, so don't worry if you have something that you want me to listen.

He adores naming his gf/bf after sweet things like Princess/Prince, Sweetcheeks, Love, Pumpkin, and so on. He claimed that giving his lover a petname would make them feel unique. He also enjoys kissing and hugging people. Leaning on him would be the best choice you've ever made if you feel like you need a place to scream yourself out or if you just want someone to listen to you.

For music, I relish a lot of them. The Boyz, Enhypen, IVE, IZONE, NIKI, Taylor Swift, Bruno Mars, beabadoobee, NCT DREAM, Lesserafim, NewJeans, The 1975, Paramore, MCR, Bon Jovi, GNE, Tulus, Vierra, Metallica, Eagles, and numerous other artists are currently capturing his attention. Or maybe we can just share each other playlist and please do recommend me some tastes of yours. Let's vibing into it together, shall we?

I have to say that I'm quite busy in the morning (budak corporate life), but in the night my time will be all yours. In those time, I will showers you with many loves and date ideas, like staying up with you 'till the dawn comes and listens to our Playlist. I can do anything you want me to do. Moreover, I love a relationship which goes like a love-hate one. But i like a lovey-dovey too.

I think that's enough to describe me very well, if you're in need of an amusing lover, then I can say that I'm the right one. But infortunately, I can't be able to do stuff that related into my real life such as Voice Note, and OTP. Aight, I'll wait for you, sweetheart. I won't spoil many things here and let's get to know each other more through our talk later on. See you, love.

MAIN MUSE & SIDE MUSE

[ratasum]

Both Rhenn/Kippa and Leyya/Zojja: 2, 20, 30, 37 (that is not an obvious flaw)

OTP Relationship Asks

Under a cut since this'll get long, as I'll be answer each bit separately.

First, Rhenn and Kippa!

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Kippa is a cuddler, and Rhenn had never been used to that, even with the partners he'd had before meeting her. He was never exactly a cuddly sort himself, as he never got a lot of physical affection growing up. Nothing like Kippa, who had a lot of close family and friends.

It took a while for Rhenn to adjust to having someone not just physically affectionate, but also someone who just wanted to cuddle with him in bed.

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

Oh it's absolutely Kippa. I haven't written a lot up about it, but there's a bit at some point later where she just blows up at Gorrik the minute he confirms (cheerfully) that he'd been at the Thaumanova Reactor facility under the city when it went critical.

To be fair, she does have good reason for that.

But regardless, for all she's such a quiet, gentle person, with an extremely slow temper that dislikes getting angry, she can really dig her teeth in when it comes down to it.

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

Kippa tends to kiss Rhenn's scars, especially the one across his face. She wants him to know he's valuable to her, for more than what his parents did to him. That even his scars are important to her, as they make him up as much as any other part of him.

Rhenn isn't particularly picky, but he likes the way Kippa giggles when he kisses all over her face- nose, eyelids, cheeks, chin.

37. What do they like the least about each other?

For Rhenn about Kippa: she fusses, a lot. Part of it is just leftover anxiety after what happened at Thaumanova, but she has a tendency to overworry about a LOT of things, to the point that it can come off as a little helicopter-y. She doesn't mean to be overprotective, but she's so scared of losing people that it can make her a little pushy about it.

For Kippa about Rhenn: he can have SUCH a big head about so many things. It's one thing he's never quite let go of from when he was made commander due to some twisting by his father and still had ties to the Inquest. He knows he's good at what he does, and he can puff himself up a lot about it. It means he puts himself in far more danger than he should, which just makes Kippa worry more. An endless cycle.

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And then, for Leyya and Zojja!

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Answered here!

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

Oh, Zojja by far. Look at how long she grit her teeth and stayed mad at Eir. By contrast, Leyya tends to be much more laid back. The worst she ever got was when she went off to find a way to get some sort of revenge after Zojja's injuries in the jungle, but that was a more her anger than an actual grude.

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

For Leyya to Zojja, she loves to kiss her forehead or the top of her head. She's always been taller than Zojja, and it's a good spot for her to reach when she just wants to be cute/sweet overall.

For Zojja to Leyya, it's often her hands, usually the palms. Leyya is a grounding force, or at least has done her best to try to be. Those hands have held her up more times than she can count, so it's almost a form of thanks as much as it is a form of affection.

37. What do they like the least about each other?

Zojja can sometimes lose her patience how flippant Leyya can be. At least pre-HoT, Leyya always was more playful, teasing, swinging in out of nowhere sometimes. And while usually it doesn't bother her terribly, there's points that it absolutely makes her want to shake Leyya until her eye teeth rattle sometimes. (More recently, with how tired and serious Leyya is more often than not, she finds herself missing that more than she thought she would.)

Leyya gets frustrated with how often Zojja gets stuck in her own head. She knows how brilliant she is, loves how quick her mind works, loves how passionate she is about projects... but on the other hand, it means Zojja can sometimes get in cycles in her head where she ignores or forgets things outside her bubble exist. For Leyya, it's less an annoyance and more a point of worry, really. But it exists.

[itsbigal]

so  often  in  life  you  had  no  idea  what  affect  you  had  on  other  people  and  even  a  force  like  alara  ,  someone  who  had  all  the  good  intentions  in  the  world  ,  sometimes  had  a  direct  impact  on  the  people  around  her  .  never  did  she  realise  how  her  endless  positivity  could  be  overwhelming  for  other  people  but  she  had  realised  at  certain  points  in  her  existence  that  she  could  be  too  much  .  how  could  you  be  too  much  for  some  and  then  never  enough  for  others  ?  "  i'd  love  to  ,  "  she  slides  into  the  seat  across  from  the  dark  haired  woman  ,  her  own  drink  warm  in  her  hands  ,  the  hot  chocolate  topped  with  numerous  chocolate  sprinkles  but  absent  of  marshmallows  (  they  melted  too  fast  for  her  liking  )  .  she  has  nothing  but  warmth  in  her  eyes  ,  no  real  idea  that  there  is  anything  about  this  interaction  which  is  anything  but  two  people  running  into  each  other  out  in  the  world  and  catching  up  .  they  did  share  a  lot  of  mutual  friends  .  "  how  are  you  ?  have  you  been  up  to  anything  exciting  ?  "  she  takes  a  beat  for  response  but  then  adds  ,  "  did  you  hear  about  the  zoey  102  movie  being  released  on  july  27th  ?  i  am  so  excited  .  chase  and  zoey  were  totally  my  otp  but  quinn  is  hot  now  .  "

                      holding  her  chai  tea  close  ,  she  brought  it  up  to  her  lips  and  took  a  sip  .  the  iced  beverage  hitting  the  spot  as  she  sat  at  one  of  the  small  tables  outside  the  coffee  shop  .  her  sketchbook  open  to  the  current  page  she  was  working  on  .  hearing  the  familiar  voice  ,  she  pulled  her  airpod  out  of  the  ear   and  put  it  away  .  a  smile  appearing  on  her  face  when  seeing  the  girl  .  luciana  and  alara  didn't  seem  all  that  𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓  from  the  outside  but  honestly  speaking  . . .  it  felt  a  little  challenging  whenever  she  was  around  the  other  woman  .  feeling  as  though  she  had  to  try  even  harder  than  she  already  did  ,  every  single  day  .  not  because  she  didn't  like  her  or  found  her  annoying  . . .  in  a  way  . . .  she  was  just  𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒  .  alara  seeming  like  everything  she  grew  up  thinking  she  had  to  be  like  ,  yet  ,  she  could  never  be  .  an  unfair  assessment  ,  she  knew  that  .  it  was  𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘  to  say  someone  was  a  certain  way  without  actually  knowing  them  .           (     something  luci  would  know  a  thing  or  two  about  when  it  came  to  herself  and  what  people  thought  of  her  .     )          but  she  couldn't  help  the  tinge  of  jealousy  ,  if  that  was  even  the  right  word  . . .  she  felt  whenever  she  was  near  alara  .  nevertheless  ,  the  smile  was  still  on  her  face  .           ❛      hey  ,  alara  .     ❜          she  spoke  softly  ,  closing  the  sketchbook  in  front  of  her  .          ❛     wanna  sit  ?     ❜         she  offered  .  despite  how  she  felt  . . .  she  was  nice  to  a  fault  .  a  people  pleaser  even  to  those  that  𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓  ask  for  a  single  thing  .

[firstclassthot]

Otp prompt #52

Imagine your otp just holding eachother. Arms wrapped around the other, the weight keeping them securely grounded. People underestimate the affect of being held.

Maybe hiccups fall from A’s lips as the secure environment allows them to let go. Maybe B finds themselves saying things they never had the confidence to. Maybe A becomes vulnerable in front of B, walls crashing down as they reach a new level of comfort. The possibilities are endless

[mokutone]

Rock Lee for the ask game? If you’re not too tired of it yet :0

i am NEVER too tired for my boy...

answers under the cut!

favorite thing about them — UM. EVERYTHING!!! of all the kids in naruto he is my ABSOLUTE favorite. he is tied for my second favorite character. he is so cute and he tries so hard and he is sooo full of love and earnest dedication and also visually he is just? perfect? his eyes and his lower eyelashes and his determined little mouth and his bowlcut. god i literally love him sooo much. favorite boy. precious son.

least favorite thing about them — absolutely nothing. he is perfect to me in every way. i have no notes. well okay. i do think the drunk rock lee thing is kind of a cheap gag and i don't love it, but even that is like...fine. i guess.

favorite line

this isn't like!!!! a proper line!!!! but i LOVE his little excited, disbelieving laugh when Gai said he could take off his weights!!! it means the world to me. he means the world to me. he is my son and i love him soooooo much!!!

brOTP —GAI SENSEI!!!! HE HAS ENDLESS LOVE AND RESPECT FOR GAI SENSEI...literally like. i dont know how gai sensei could ever be more of a dad to rock lee than he is already. i'm obsessed with their bond. Gai sensei means the world to rock lee and rocklee means the world to gai sensei. they are so important to each other. oh to think of it. ohhhh my heart! my heart and soul! wahhh!!!!

OTP —i don't really care about this kind of thing! i thought his crush on sakura was fairly cute.

nOTP —i don't really care about this kind of thing! i don't really understand gaalee, but like, i also. don't give a shit? it's fine, i'm glad people are having fun.

random headcanon — i think he takes friendship very seriously KDGJHSDKGJHSD like i think he treats all of his close friendships with the intensity that people usually reserve for romantic attachments! this is something which confuses Tenten and Neji a lot. Tenten knows who she is and is in many ways confident, I think, but she's also a little bit concerned with trying to act appropriately, and not sure what that means all the time! Lee acting as unrestrained loving as he does to the people that matter to him embarrasses her a lot.

Similarly, Neji would probably react poorly to somebody trying to be friends with him in a socially acceptable, mild way, like if somebody just complimented him on occasion and hung out around him a lot. Lee is something Neji could never prepare for. He is so completely unashamed and genuine in his affection and even his admiration for Neji that sometimes it just straightup short circuits his brain.

but this is just now Rock Lee is!!! he can't love halfway. the affection that he feels for his friends is cranked up to 11 at all times. He is overwhelming but in the most genial way possible.

unpopular opinion — is this unpopular? i see him as transhet. he has put so much effort into emulating gai (who is so unambiguously gay) that its hard for people to get a read on him but the little fella just! loves girls!!! good for him!

song i associate with them — ghsdkghsdkgh Don't Stop Me Now by Queen. what do u want me to say...he's having a good time! he's hyped!

favorite picture of them

this gif!! i love it so much i send it to my friends all the time 2 let them know im cheering them on :)