#she's truly the most stubborn dog i have ever known

[lady-harrowhark]

so my dog got sick last week - she’s fine now! just a tummy bug! - and the vet gave us a few cans of fancy pro-biotic dog food for her and some supplement capsules to mix in with it. she has never gotten canned food before and she was A Big Fan. after about two meals she had zeroed in on the sound of me popping open the supplement capsule and would come running. because she’s only seven pounds, the cans lasted us approximately a week. two days ago, i gave her the last of the canned food. we have no more canned food in this house.

since then she has been absolutely. insufferable.

yesterday i would conservatively estimate that 75% of her waking hours were spent on Attention Seeking Behavior. i did not immediately catch on to what she wanted, but i realized when i went into the kitchen near where i was keeping the canned food and she began frantically dancing around my feet. i pointed her back to her normal food, which is in its normal place. she does not want normal food. she wants canned food.

ma’am. we have no more canned food in this house. 

yesterday i was able to trick her into eating her normal food one (1) time by popping open a supplement capsule, which she eagerly danced around and begged for, and sprinkling it over her dry food. but today she is older. wiser.

there is still no more canned food in this house.

today we have been at DEFCON 1 Attention Seeking Behavior since the sun came up. strategies deployed include:

staring balefully

staring playfully

pawing at my arms

woofing under her breath

hopping around in little circles

climbing up onto my shoulder to snuggle her head under my chin

tiny little kisses on my face

laying across my laptop keyboard

positioning herself to be in my direct line of sight at all times

bouncing on the couch cushion near where i’m sitting to jostle me

squirming into my lap to knock my phone out of my hands

hiding under the armchair for short periods of time and then coming out to see if i’ve learned my lesson yet

and yet, we continue to have no more canned food in this house.

the ONLY reason this behavior has stopped, now, at eleven pm on Day Two of the Great Canned Food Famine, is because she heard thunder outside and had to tuck herself under my arm to avoid certain death.

when the storm clouds clear and the sun comes up tomorrow, there will still be no more canned food in this house.

[elvestoneanzelote1]

Hello Good morning/evening/night! I just stumble across your blog and i love your work •v•

Just wondering have you ever though of platonic yandere bsd with Male child reader who have Makima or even Nayuta personality and ability of controling people because that would be interesting

A:n- ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs I ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ.. Bᴜᴛ I ᴡɪʟʟ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, sᴏʀʀʏ ɪғ ɪᴛ ɪsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ sɪɴᴄᴇ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.

Nᴏʀ ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Y/n- your name

Warning: protective, mention of mori.

Y/n is from the agency.

.

If one where to describe y/n, they would describe him as the most adorable child from the agency.

You were just 10-12 years old, with a charming innocent smile that melts every agency heart, heck even Kyouka heart as she view you as a younger brother.

Which lead to the question of the suspicion of your ability. The main reason why you are in the agency.

At first Dazai was curious of why a child in the agency maybe, someone brother? He assume but later on he caught up that your ability to control someone movements like a puppet is truly magnificent and dangerous.

He was reminded of Yumeno, the child at the mafia who can mind control others who have hurt him but yours were worse in a way as an unknown force seems to work for your part as it is known as force manipulation.

(I'm not that sure how Makima ability is since I didn't watch Chainsaw man and Some of her ability won't be mention as it is just going to brief one).

The more Dazai pry the more he realise the kid was not an angel but also a very demanding personality.

He realise that the flaw of you that every members on the agency sighed about leading Ranpo and you having childish tanthrums though Ranpo never won as you seems to cry out when he refuse to give you sweets.

"Can't you give me the choco-balls sweets?" You cried as Ranpo gaze away.

"No!"

"Wahhh! Ranpo-san is bad!!!" You cried and run away leaving a guilty Ranpo who later comes to you and handed you the sweets making you hug him happily.

"Ranpo-san is the best"

"Of course I'm! Don't ever forget that" he said proudly as you hug him while chuckling happily. Such a cute child you are.

The worst for Dazai was you love dogs, oh the audacity of you bringing a puppy into the agency hiddenly and it almost bite him!.

"Kunikida-kun! Who brought this monstrous thing!" Shouted Dazai escaping the puppy who seems to want to bite Dazai hand that was wrapped in bandage.

"Mo! Dazai-san" you pouted while holding your puppy who was waving its tail happily making Dazai pout.

"Not fair! You should like cats! Cats are the most adorable thing!"

"So? I like dogs they are cute!"

"So are cat!"

"They are loyal and tamable!"

"Ahhh! Take it away!" Scream Dazai while running away as you hold up your puppy tuning after him to pet it.

It was Fun to watch for Kunikida who first time enjoy Dazai misery

Maybe he will let the puppy come time to time to distract/punish the lazy potato from not doing work.

Well, regardless you were just a child with sweet personality but also a demanding, stubborn personality too.

But the whole agency knows that they would rather hide your ability rather than making the other organisation to target you.

Regardless that even president is like your grandfather or sort whom you cling onto on rare times to get sweets.

Most likely you annoy Ranpo to share his sweets, which leads the chaotic arguments.

But fortunately, Naomi brought two same flavour sweets so that you both won't argue about different sweet flavour which you haven't tasted is eaten by the other or sort.

You do have parents who left you astray but.. They did came to take you one time as you were taken a back.

The elders of the agency said they will speak with them as Naomi, Sakura, Kyouka, Kenji, Jun'churo and Atsushi took you away to play or sort as the others talk with your biological parents.

Well, let's just say you are just a kid, when you hear your parents left without telling you, you refuse to show how heartbroken you were as the agency members try to cheer you up which they succeeded.

You only hope your parents will come back to take you home, since.. Agency is good but you are not a detective and precisely your just 10-12 year old child who misses their parents warmed.

But that is only a hopeful thought as you are unaware that your.. Parents will never visit you ever again.

After all you belong to agency who can protect you, right?

"Don't worry, Y/n-kun we can go to the aquarium alright!" Said Atsushi as he notice your frown which turn to a childish smile.

"Really?"

"Yep!"

"Will the others come too?"

"Hmm? Why not ask them, shall we?" Said Atsushi who was the one succeeding on making you gleam happily.

The agency happily agreed to go.

Let's just say the port mafia were there to and Mori was confused and curious of Why Fukuzawa have a boy with him and why the whole crew of the agency in the aquarium?

Well, he was confused when Elise was the one approach you when you got lost around the aquarium as he approach you both.

"Elise-chan! I told you not to leave my hand!"

"But Rintarou! He is lost!" Said Elise who hold your hand as you were sniffling as Mori approach you.

"Say, aren't you the boy from the agency?"

"You.. Know them?"

"Yes, Do you want to come with us while.. We search of the agency member?"/

"Really?"

"Yes really" said Mori as Elise smile to reassure you and drag you with her as Mori just tag along.

Let's just say the agency were in panic in search of you.

And Ranpo was the one who use his glasses to find out where you were last been. But they found no one making the chaotic drama in the aquarium by the agency asking about your whereabouts to the people.

In suspicion that they might have kidnapped you or sort.

After all, your the most adorable kid, aren't you?

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A:n- that's all good day/night to you all! I hope you have a great day ahead.

[friendly-neighborhood-furry]

I really wanna be friends with you but i'm scared to take the first step, specially because, what if you don't want to? what if I scree it up?

you're just so cool, sorry..

oh yeah I have to ask something

Do you have pets? (genuine I wanna know because of the cat in your pfp lol)

its okay, don't be afraid to reach out! i'm always excited to make new friends, especially through places like tumblr! :) and don't worry about messing up either, if it makes you feel any better i have flubbed plenty of social interactions myself lol - -''

please feel free to reach out though! i'd be delighted to hang out and chat with you anon :)

to answer your second question, yes i do have pets! three cats and a nasty (affectionate) little dog.

funny enough, none of my cats are the one in my pfp! i just found that picture somewhere and have been using as a pfp ever since. but since we're talking about them already, i'll share some actual pictures of my critters!

this is wilson! we adopted him in 2018 (i think?) and we love him so dearly. since hes orange he has his weird little quirks, but he’s a very affectionate cat and an excellent napping companion :3

here are biscuits and cosmo! both were rescued in summer of ‘22. cosmo (right) was rescued first as a very young, malnourished, yet surprisingly fierce kitten, whom we nurtured and cared for diligently until she blossomed into the spry young cat she is today :) oh and biscuits kind of just showed up in our backyard one day

hes also VERY sweet and probably the most vocal cat i've ever known! you cant see it in this picture, but hes actually got a broken tail. the vet said it must have been broken a long time ago, and since it isn't causing him any pain, we've elected not to mess with it.

it is pretty interesting to look at though! i've thought about doing photoshoots with him so that myself and other warrior cats fans artists can use them as references. if anyone would be interested in seeing that, please let me know! :D

and here is the aforementioned dog. his names walter and he’s a terrier-dachshund mix (we suspect the terrier half to be a carin terrier) and he will be turning 14 this year!

truly one of the most vile, stubborn and ornery creatures i have ever lived with, but to be fair those words could also be used to describe everyone else in my family (myself included). its good that we're the people he ended up with because i truly don't think anyone else would put up with him LMAO-

all jokes aside though i really do love the lil guy. he’s incredibly loyal to us and he gets nervous when one of us isnt home (so quarantine was basically a dream come true for him). he's very cute and his age hasnt stopped him from being playful and excitable :)

anyway yeah i love my pets i love our animals couldn't imagine my life without animal companions in it

[aminiatureworld]

An Unexpected Rival

Characters: Childe, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,556

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When thinking about fighting for the affections of someone, one normally imagines great declarations of love and promises of loyalty. But sometimes that’s not it. Sometimes it’s simply living with a being that hates you more than anything.

In which the reader’s pet hates their s/o

Author’s Note: I did give the pets names because I felt I couldn’t really refer to them as “your pet” the whole time. I also am not a pet owner. Still I hope you enjoy! 

Going to try non bullet pointed for a bit. We’ll see how it goes!

Childe

Honestly you didn’t know what to do.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the living room of your apartment, trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of your dog sitting directly on the chest of your much beleaguered partner.

You hadn’t really considered the consequences of introducing Childe to Lacey. I mean, how badly could the interactions be between the man you were convinced was your soulmate and the nicest golden retriever that had ever existed? If there was going to be issues you’d reasoned it would be on Childe’s side. So when your partner lit up at the mention of your fluffy child, you’d assumed all would be well.

Evidently that was not the case. You knew that Lacey could be clingy on occasion, but she’d really been making an effort these past few weeks. Knocking your partner out of the way when you two walked through the door together, refusing to stop walking when you two met up at a park or on the street, refusing to answer to Childe’s attempts at affection. It was almost impressive, the lengths Lacey was willing to go to establish her position as Number One Childe Hater – especially impressive considered the well-attested competition, including but not limited to a Fatui Harbinger.

Now you sprung into action as best you could, bottling up the giggles that threatened to erupt at any moment.

“Childe!” You exclaimed, walking closer. Lacey still refused to stand up, but her tail thumped excitedly against the floor, and she let out a short whine of appreciation. Unfazed by this cry for praise you sighed. “Lacey! Get up! Honestly, you’re not being a very good testament to your intelligence right now.”

Nudging her slightly you sighed with relief as the golden retriever sprang up, attacking your hands and face with kisses as you dragged Childe up to a sitting position. Childe at least seemed unfazed by the sudden attack, letting out a mere “oof”, and smiling a slightly embarrassed smile.

“I’m really sorry about this Childe.” You said, hands still batting away Lacey’s frantic activity as she attempted to get you to focus on her.

“It’s alright. Just, wow she’s a heavier girl than I expected.”

“Hopefully no squished organs?”

“Archons no! It’ll take more than this girl to fell me, don’t you worry.” Childe attempted to give Lacey a pet, but the dog that had just before been laying all over him now scampered out of the way, instead pawing at your back.

“Lacey! Stop being so rude! Urgh, and here I was hoping that you two would be somewhat settled before I went on my trip.”

You sighed, letting your head drop into the palms of your hand, not wanting to think about what might happen during the week and a half that Childe would be required to take care of Lacey. Would she even let him in the apartment to feed her? What about walks and the like? Were you going to come home to all our warfare? Childe seemed to understand your quickly dropping mood, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing small circles with his thumb, even as Lacey whined and began pawing at his arm.

“I promise it’ll be alright my dear. We’ll manage while you’re gone and who knows? Maybe by the time you get back we’ll be thick as thieves, and then you’ll be the one getting sat on.”

“Who knows.” You let out a burst of laughter. But even as you two shared this moment of levity your mind continued to spin its threads, dreading the days to come and what you’d be presented with the day you got back.

 “Alright, what’re we going to do.”

Childe stood in the foyer, hands on his hip, irritation in his heart. Lacey seemed to be mimicking the gesture, chest puffed out proudly as she stared the Harbinger down. They must’ve been standing like that for at least ten minutes, Childe thought to himself, ten minutes of staring and nothing yet done. It was beginning to grate on him, and were it not for the fact that you’d have to pay for damages, he was quite tempted to vault over the nearby furniture, if only so he could get to the kitchen and have this miserable showdown be over.

He didn’t dislike Lacey, no Childe didn’t think he could truly dislike any dog if he tried. He used to dream of owning a wolf pup, of flopping around in the snow with his companion, running as fast as he could and still being chased down with a crash, before being bombarded by affectionate pawing and kisses. These memories seemed quite silly when faced with the reality of caring for a dog however, and now he wanted only to bang his head against the wall, and maybe pass out from the exertion.

“I get that you love your owner.” He spoke again, how long had he been talking to this dog? “But I don’t think this is the way to win their heart.”

Lacey said nothing, simply narrowing her eyes and letting out a slightly hiss. Still Childe continued on.

“And like it or not you are going to have to eat eventually. So I suggest if you’re going to misbehave, that you should at least do it on a day when I’m not your primary caretaker.”

When there was still no movement from Lacey Childe sighed. That evening when he returned to his own apartment it was with the unfortunate knowledge that golden retriever bites hurt a lot more than he’d expected them too.

 It was storming, and the city of Liyue had transformed from a glistening city to one of mud and rusted iron. Childe swore under his breath as he pulled his coat closer around him, desperately trying to keep as dry as possible. Who knew if he’d be able to make it to your bedroom and grab one of his spare shirts with Lacey acting like he was a burglar instead of well known acquaintance? The song and dance between the two of them was grating. Feeding your golden retriever being nearly impossible, not to mention the times when Childe half dragged Lacey through the most half assed of walks. Really how could such a gentle spirit turn so stubborn so quickly? Childe didn’t know, all he knew was that the sooner you came home the sooner he could stop worry about being nipped at the heels.

The sight that met Childe at the entrance to your apartment was jarring. Instead of the usual irritated dog Childe was met with utter silence, and a stillness that betrayed the fact that not only was Lacey not in the hall, but she was also avoiding the kitchen and the living room.

“Lacey?” Childe called out, getting no answer but the whipping of wind and the rumble of thunder. “I swear if you managed to run off – Lacey!”

Going further down the hall Childe finally heard the sound of muffled whimpering. Walking into your bedroom he spied Lacey under the bed, eyes filled not with disdain, but with anxiety.

“Lacey, why in Teyvat are you here?”

There was no reply, until suddenly another clap of thunder shook the walls. Lacey let out a yelp and crawled under the bed a little more, flattening her head against the floor, although there was not much room left in that department. Childe stared at this for a second letting the pieces fall into place. He just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that this was the same Lacey who so fearlessly guarded the apartment against his entrance every day.

This slight smugness was extinguished rather quickly though, instead replaced with a sense of pity, and the need to make this poor girl feel the least bit better.

“Hey, hey it’ll be alright.” Childe spoke softly. For a moment he left the room, but quickly he returned, towels and blankets in hand, praying that you wouldn’t mind that he messed up your closet a little bit.

“Let’s make a fort, shall we?”

Not waiting for any sort of acknowledgment Childe began to pile up the covers on your bed, making sure to lay down towels in case you were worried of shedding. At first Lacey did nothing much than scooch out enough to watch him, but within the next flash of lightning she was up and moving, diving under the makeshift fort and clambering around Childe, as if trying to find out if she could burrow through the Harbinger.

“I know, I know, it’s pretty scary out there, huh?” Childe ruffled Lacey’s head slightly. “But you’ll see, it’ll pass soon enough. And then we can go back to fighting, alright.”

Lacey let out a whine, but nevertheless began to settle down, lying down and once more resting her head on her paws.

“There’s a good girl.” Childe smiled softly. “You aren’t that bad you know. At least you aren’t that bad when you’re not trying to bite my leg off.”

Your surprise at the improvement in Childe-Lacey relations was somewhat immense when you returned. Though Childe refused to say what had managed to form such a bond between your disgruntled pet and him, only that he hoped you didn’t mind dog hair on your bed. Lacey, for her part, no longer tried to sit on your partner.

Even if she still pushed him out of the way when you came home.

 Scaramouche

Scaramouche could deal with a lot of things. He could deal with the fact that your parrot wouldn’t let the man within three feet of the parrot’s cage without attempting to bite his hands off. He could deal with the obnoxiously loud clicking whenever he got too close to you, and he could deal with fact that your parrot was fond of yelling random phrases at him in the most aggressive tone Scaramouche had ever heard. Scaramouche could deal with all of that. What he couldn’t deal with is what your parrot insisted on calling him, no matter how much time was spent saying: “Scaramouche. I am Scaramouche!”

“Electro boy? Really?”

“I’m sorry Scara,” you let out a giggle, “I didn’t know what your name was when I first saw you.”

Oh Scaramouche was sure of that, but did that really mean that Oliver had to call him solely by that title? It didn’t help that you must’ve referred to Scaramouche an awful lot as “Electro Boy” for it to be the name that stuck in Oliver’s mind. And regardless of how many times you used the title, it was one thing for you to use the nickname. It was quite another thing for Oliver to, since, unlike in your case, Oliver’s use of “Electro Boy” could be nothing but derogatory.

Scaramouche had long given up in wooing the errant parrot over. If they were to be mortal enemies, so be it. He’d dealt with that before.

“Oh Scaramouche, you must be joking!” You’d exclaimed when he’d revealed this train of thought, cupping his face in your hand and pressing affectionate kisses to his face. He’d let you do so, let you imagine that one day there might be a reconciliation. But in his heart he knew. Unless Oliver learned to stop with the name calling, Scaramouche would never forgive him for the insult.

“I wish you would write.” You whispered.

Pain skirted through Scaramouche’s face, but still he refused the promise that you needed. You knew that Scaramouche would never be able to have a normal relationship with you, that these trips were necessary, were a part of him that you’d never be able to wrench away. Still, the least he could do was promise to write. Without his writings, well how could you even be sure he was alive?

“I’m sorry.” Scaramouche whispered. Leaning in so your foreheads were touching he let out a sigh, warming your lips with his breath. “I cannot promise I will write. I wouldn’t like to break a promise to you.”

“I know.” You whispered back, shaking your head as much as you could. “Still, I’d almost rather a broken promise.”

“You wouldn’t. I know it would drive you mad.”

“Perhaps, but better than nothing?”

You two stood there, basking in silence. A familiar cry broke the reverie.

“Electro Boy! Electro Boy!” A series of clicks accompanied the sudden shriek. There was no better way to break the spell. Almost immediately Scaramouche pulled away. Walking towards the door he paused, turning around one more time.

“I’ll miss you.”

Those words washed over you, their owner having been carried away with the wind.

 Scaramouche hurried up the steps, anticipation keep his pace quick and his thoughts a jumble of fragments. The long mission he’d been sent on was finally over, and now he could think not of noisy soldiers, nor of the people who continually disappointed him, but of you. He couldn’t wait, every step on the staircase felt like an obstacle, something he must triumph against to reach you. Finally arriving at your door he barely paused, stepping this way and that as he opened the door before striding into the hallway as fast as he could.

“I’m home.” He called into the afternoon light. Almost immediately two things happened. One was that you leapt off your position on the couch, practically barreling yourself into his arms. The second was that Oliver began to screech, hopping from one foot to the other in an indecipherable dance.

“Scara, you’re home!” You cried, exclamation by the way you buried your face into his shoulder.

“Scara! Scara! Scaramouche!” Oliver echoed. The words made Scaramouche freeze up, taken aback as he was by their usage.

“What was that Oliver?” He called out, not altogether sure if the parrot would even reply to him. Scaramouche had really only referred to Oliver by name the first time he met him. After that you had to settle with “the bird” or “the noisemaker”. This time, however Scaramouche couldn’t help but use it. This was, after all, a matter of great importance.

“Scaramouche, Scaramouche, who’s a pretty bird?” Oliver tittered irreverently.

His tone was still somewhat sharp, Scaramouche never heard Oliver snap at you the way he did him, but nevertheless the words had struck a chord. Finding himself at a loss for words Scaramouche stared at you, trying to figure out what was going on.

“That’s probably my fault,” you laughed hesitantly, “I guess I was talking about you more than I thought. It’s only that, well I missed you an awful lot. And Oliver is my confidante, he always has been. So I guess I’ve just been talking a lot to him about you. I’ve really missed you…”

Scaramouche felt his heart soften. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to your forehead, much to the indignation of Oliver, who twittered away as normal. Still, it was better than it had been before. And, if Scaramouche could admit it to himself, he didn’t mind the idea of you pouring out to Oliver how much you missed him. It made him feel important, feel whole. And if your rude bird had helped at all, then Scaramouche could find it in him to respect Oliver, though only a little.

“I’m glad you thought of me.” He whispered to you. “And I’m glad you still had a confidante to talk to.”

And if the result was a parrot who no longer called him “Electro Boy”, then all the better.

 Xiao

Honestly Xiao couldn’t really see the appeal of pets. Something that was only cemented when he met your cat.

“And this is Honey.” You’d said softly, picking up the orange feline and cradling her in your arms. The cat made no sounds, instead it stared straight at Xiao, eyes narrow, gaze untrusting. Xiao was equally out of depths in this matter. What was he supposed to do? Pet it, presumably. Reaching out with hesitant fingers Xiao almost immediately pulled away, dodging an onslaught of clawing.

Ever since then there seemed to have been an odd hierarchy established, at least in Honey’s mind. She never let Xiao sit next to you, oh no, that would’ve been too generous. Instead Honey squeezed into the space between you two, no matter how small and wow was it small sometimes, meowing angrily as Xiao passed his arm over her head to hold your hand. Sometimes she’d try the tactic of walking all over you, lying on your lap, wrapping herself around your shoulders, and all the time glaring at Xiao as if he’d brought some sort of catastrophe on her for daring to try and get close to you.

“Your cat hates me.”

“She does not!” You exclaimed. “Honey doesn’t hate anyone! She just needs to get used to you.”

“She hates me. She thinks I’m beneath her.”

Xiao glared up at Honey, who was looming over the conversation via the bookshelf in your bedroom. Honey’s eyes narrowed and for a moment Xiao felt as if he’d somehow spilled the cat’s secrets. It wasn’t his fault that he knew what she was thinking. After all, hadn’t Xiao been like that for a time? An ornery soul who found most interactions beneath him? Who knew he’d be on the receiving end of that relationship someday. He certainly didn’t appreciate it now.

“You just need to get used to one another.” You continued to assure Xiao. “Honey’s a little bit possessive. It’s nothing personal. She’ll get over it.”

Well it’d been four weeks since that conversation and unfortunately Honey showed exactly zero signs of “getting over it”. Though perhaps she wasn’t clawing at him anymore, maybe because you’d actually scolded her for it, the gaze never left her eyes. The fact that she meowed loudly whenever Xiao made more contact than hand holding also didn’t help her case.

 Xiao sighed, staring at the sky as the sun began its descent beyond the peaks of Liyue. A cluster of trees ringed the back part of your house – trees apparently planted by your grandparents – and Xiao enjoyed perching in them to watch the sunset.

“At least here the cat will leave me alone.” He muttered.

It’d been a tiring day. Honey had been in a particularly bad mood – probably the result of Xiao staying the night – and the atmosphere in the house had become somehow so tense that Xiao figured taking a hike wouldn’t be a bad idea. Even if he found the whole exercise a bit demeaning.

“I’m losing to a cat.” Xiao called flatly out into the air. There was no reply of course, but he didn’t mind that. Imagine what his fellow adepti would think of him now, flailing around, trying to win the affections of a furball whose favorite pastime was being as irritating as possible.

Now Xiao heard a familiar yowl. Glancing down he spied Honey, hair standing on end, gripping a branch as if her life belonged to it. An old conversation rose to the front of his mind. Something about cats being able to go up trees very easily, but not so much down. What an idiotic creature, he thought to himself.

Still it’d be ill form to leave the poor idiot clutching onto the branch, so fighting his smugness as beset he could Xiao leaned over and attempted to wrench the cat from the branches. Honey let out a series of shrieks, claws digging into the bark, but eventually she relinquished and Xiao pulled her up onto his lap. Almost immediately she began pawing at his chest, meowing her indignancy.

“I know.” Xiao glared at the cat. “But they wouldn’t be very happy if you got stuck.”

As if to reply Honey narrowed her eyes, turning around to look at the skyline, rather than acknowledge the adeptus she was now laying on. Xiao hummed in response.

“You know things would be easier if you weren’t so aggressive.”

A meow in response.

“I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why you’re so territorial.”

Another meow.

“I suppose I’m like that. I also want them to myself. Things would be easier without you clawing at me. But they love you, and that’s what matters. I don’t know why but they do.”

Silence, perhaps Honey was insulted by the way Xiao spoke.

“I can’t say I’ll love you. But I’ll try to like you. As long as you try to like me.”

Silence again, but this time Xiao took it as an assent. Letting out a sigh he turned back towards the horizon, gaze drifting towards the peaks that Honey too was watching with interest. The night was alive with the soft chirps of insects, and a faint breeze ruffled Xiao hair, dancing through Honey’s fur. Xiao let out a sigh and, nemesis on his stomach, allowed himself a little rest.

You stared at the mismatched pair, a smile playing on your lips. How funny they looked, curled up together. Like two cats, one a panther, the other a tabby. And yet somehow the tabby was running the shots.

They look so peaceful, you mused to yourself, who knows what they might be like in the morning.

At the very least, you’d be sure to enquire about the nature of your partner’s conversation with your cat, something which had seemed very important to him.

[certified-dumbass02]

Gold Rush (pt.1)

A college AU.

Yelena is a playgirl….but really she’s just a huge flirt who’s been too chicken to really do anything for the last year because she’s secretly just as in love with you as you are with her.

Inspired by the always excellent @peachbear88 and Taylor Swift’s gold rush. Split into two parts because I thought it was getting too long.

~*~

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

To be fair, she’s the death of pretty much everyone she crosses paths with on campus. Her prowess has, unsurprisingly, earned her several flattering - to her, since she laughs and preens at them - nicknames: Russian Assassin, Femme Fatale…Black Widow.

With her devastatingly gorgeous good looks, frustratingly charming personality, and annoyingly enduring popularity as one of the star athletes at the university, Yelena is never short of admirers.

What’s worse is she’s fully aware of her affect on others; men, women, everything in between - they all flock to her in a crowded room, clamoring to hear the Russian lilt she inherited from her immigrant parents glide silkily over a sarcastic quip or flirtatious comment.

Being around her is like being underwater, or being sucked into a black hole; reality just doesn’t seem quite the way that it normally does. People seem to lose their sense around her, trip over themselves just to try and impress her for the night, or grab her attention.

It is for this reason that you steadily avoid Yelena.

The idea of being enamored with someone to the point of foolishness has always left a bad taste in your mouth, and eliciting that behavior just happens to be one of Yelena’s specialties.

You want no part of it.

As appealing as she is, and you can’t deny that she is, you’ve never seen yourself entering what would surely be an ill-fated endeavor with someone that everyone wants. The stubborn part of you that has always gone against the grain, that prides itself on individuality and refuses to jump on any bandwagon, will not permit you to step into the Widow’s web as most others do.

Unfortunately, despite your vow to steer clear of her, you always find yourself in her orbit. It’s not your fault, really, and it’s not a problem - at least not at first. It begins with a forced partnership, a group project for a class you share, and when she isn’t being an obnoxious, terrible flirt determined to get a rise out of you, you get along really well.

She’s intelligent, observant, and she makes you laugh - internally, of course. You won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that you actually enjoy her presence rather than just tolerate it; your other group members stroke her ego enough. When the project is over, you’re overcome with the startling realization that you might miss bantering with her. You let out a sigh of relief to be done with it, because you already know that further exposure to Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

Naturally, you are further exposed to Yelena Belova.

You two have always run in similar social circles, connected loosely by mutual friends and choice of hangout spot, but previously you’d managed to duck her prowling green gaze, at least as long as it would take her to find her toy for the evening. After you’d been placed on her radar, however, it becomes impossible to hide.

Any room you’re in, no matter how crowded, she finds you.

Time and time again, she seeks you out, her mob of admirers following. You find it amusing how ironic the situation is: they clamor for her attention, and are ignored while she clamors for your attention and you ignore her or coolly brush her off.

You know you have no business humoring her because the second you give in, you’ll just be the latest in a long line of people that she’s loved and left. You refuse to be taken for a ride.

(If you privately admit to yourself as you watch the sway of her hips and the flex of strong arms over the swell of her chest that it would be one hell of a ride, that’s nobody’s business but yours.)

The problems arise when she ceases flirting mercilessly and instead shifts into something resembling an actual human being, wiggling her way into conversations and debates with you that last throughout the night. She still flirts, of course, but you’re accustomed to it now. She grows on you and grows on you, and the moment she begins to be your friend you groan knowing you cannot stop the inevitable.

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

It’s been almost a year of being friends with Yelena, and you are miserably, ridiculously in love with her.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned after countless conversations, shared drinks and laughs, it’s that she’s annoyingly easy to fall in love with and annoyingly difficult to fall out of love with.

Your stupid heart beats faster whenever you see her stupid gleaming eyes and her stupid glossy blonde hair that always, always falls perfectly into place around her stupid pretty face; you feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs whenever you hear that raspy Russian drawl roll over your ears and you absolutely cannot stand it.

It’s stupid- she’s Yelena, and everyone still wants her. You’re stupid because you thought you could avoid joining that statistic, and it frustrates you to no end; it’s bad enough to develop feelings for Yelena, known playgirl, but it’s even worse when you develop feelings for Yelena, your best friend.

In an effort to get over her, you let your other best friend set you up on a date with one of their friends, hoping that it can turn you into something resembling your old self, because then you can get back to acting normally around Yelena instead of…whatever this is.

You meet up with your date at your favorite bar. It’s familiarity brings you comfort because you’ve always been awful at dates, and even if you don’t know this girl, you still feel nervous.

She introduces herself as Kate as you two settle into one of the more isolated tables in the corner of the bar, and you’re grateful she seems to make conversation much less anxiously and awkwardly than you do.

Kate is pretty and seems really nice; she’s bold when she flirts with you, which catches you off guard because you’re used to how Yelena flirts. You can’t really bring yourself to flirt back, because somehow it feels like a betrayal, but Kate is patient and takes it in stride. You find yourself not resenting your best friend’s pick as much as you thought you would, and an hour and two drinks pass by rather painlessly.

Kate gets up to go to the bathroom as you thumb the wet ring around your third drink, and consider the pros and cons of replying to the text Yelena sent you hours ago.

It is truly unfortunate that just as you sit your phone down without answering, determined to leave it alone, she walks into the bar.

Yes, you know this for sure: Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

You will be the death of Yelena Belova. She knows this.

You do not.

You are everything that enchants her and frustrates her; from the moment she’s partnered with you, she can’t stop thinking about you.

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl.

(“I’m an onion. I have layers,” she tells you one night early in your tentative friendship, and startles because it’s the first time you’ve ever laughed aloud at something she’s said; she decides immediately it’s her favorite sound and endeavors to elicit it any chance she gets.)

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl, but she knows when she wants something and she always pursues what she wants.

(“It sucks!” She laments one day to her sister. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as Y/N, and I can’t even do anything about it!”

Natasha glances unimpressed at her sister dramatically plopped onto the couch beside her. “You could always, I don’t know, ask Y/N out.”

Yelena grabs a pillow and shoved her face into it with a groan. “I’ve tried that, don’t you think I’ve tried that! Every time I flirt, I’m brushed off. I’m not taken seriously!”

“Well you do look like a clown, of course it’s hard to take you seriously.”

Natasha easily dodges the pillow flung at her head as Yelena scowls at her. “Not helping, Natasha.”

“Okay, okay,” Natasha holds her hands up in surrender. “What if you tried a different approach? Maybe ease up on the flirting and try acting like a friend first.”

“But I want to be more than friends,” Yelena pouts childishly, and Natasha blinks.

“I feel like I’ve just slipped into an alternate universe. Yelena Belova wants to enter a committed relationship,” Natasha deadpans and dodges another pillow aimed at her head.)

Yes, Yelena wants you and has wanted you for a very, very long time, but she’s got no clue how to tell you she loves you without you thinking she’s joking or misunderstanding her entirely.

(“Y/N, I looooove you,” she drawls one night, drunk as you ease her into the back of your car. You don’t know it, but it’s the first night she’s turned down a convenient partner because she just couldn’t get you off her mind. Afterwords, she wasn’t sure if she got so trashed in mourning or celebration and called you because you’re the only thing solid in her vodka haze.

You answered, assumed she’d needed a DD - which she did - and rushed to take her home.

She falls in love with you even more with how quickly you come to get her, how dependable you are even in the middle of the night.

So she tells you she loves you, over and over again, and you furrow your brow at her in your rear view mirror in confusion.

Then, you giggle because she starts singing loudly.

She pouts at your laugh, and you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head, completely unaware that the only thought running through it is you.

Yelena babbles more at you, love pouring from her lips over and over because she’s desperate for you to understand that you’re the most beautiful thing she’s seen as the moonlight glances off your cheekbones in your car and she’s never met someone who calls her on her shit and you make her laugh and-

“Alright, comrade. Let’s turn you on your side. There’s a trashcan right here, and a couple of water bottles and ibuprofen right there,” you say gently as you guide her into her apartment and into her bead. She clutches at you as you slide her shoes off, tries to tell you again, but you just shake your head with a smile.

She goes quiet, stunned by the sight of it.

You pat her on the head, pull the covers over her, and turn out the light. She makes a sound of protest as you say goodnight, but stirs no further, and you leave silently back to your apartment.

Yelena wakes up with a dry mouth, a headache, and a text from you that says:

Are you alive, comrade?

She furrows her brow because you’ve never called her that before and dials your number as she guzzles down her pills and water.

As it rings she remembers telling you everything, but can’t recall your response; it makes her heart beat more rapidly than when she runs.

“Good morning, comrade!” You chirp smugly, practically hearing her wince.

“Morning. What’s with the comrade, comrade?” Yelena asks, her hope tentatively rising because you don’t sound like someone totally disgusted with her for confessing her feelings.

You laugh, and she automatically smiles in response.

“Well, you were very chatty last night.”

Her hope blooms further in her chest, because finally, finally you understand she’s serious about you.

“But you were absolutely committed to your mother tongue. I don’t think you said one word in English the whole ride back to your place, besides my name.”

It is only then that she is overcome with the crushing realization that she spent the entire night professing her love to you in Russian, which you do not speak.

Yelena feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, but she forces a choked laugh out anyways as you go on. She’s thankful you do, because she’s not sure that after all the words she’d said last night uselessly that she has any words left in her.

“You know, you kept saying something, it sounded kind of like this,” you mimic the phrase, stumbling a little over the pronunciation but it’s almost perfect. It is perfect to her.

Those green eyes you adore so much well up in tears to hear you say “I love you” to her, especially to hear it in Russian. But it’s so, so cruel because you have no idea what you’re saying, no idea what she meant when she said it to you first.

She laughs again hopelessly, quickly changes the subject and lets you rant on and on about what you have to do that day.

When you get off the phone, she sighs and falls back into bed, playing the way you said I love you over and over in her head.)

Yelena loves you, and she knows you’ll be the death of her.

She becomes especially aware of this recently, when you start acting odd. You’re distancing yourself a bit because you’re in love with her so much it hurts, but she doesn’t know that and she’s bothered like never before.

So she finds herself at her favorite bar, which is also your favorite bar, to ease her nerves. She’s both surprised and thrilled to see you sitting in the corner table there, if a little confused. Still, she’s pulled to you like a magnet, like she’s been for the past year, and she approaches you with a grin.

Pt.2:

[witchthewriter]

Thank you for doing ships! I've always wanted to have one done for me, so I'm truly greatful for the opportunity.

Level: Four (if you have the time and energy to do three ships that would be fantastic, but if not don't worry about it)

Basic things: I'm 5'1. I use she/they pronouns. I'm bisexual. I'm a capricorn sun, pisces moon, and cancer rising. Last but not least I am an INTP. Last minute addition I am Ravenclaw.

My three randoms are: Peaky Blinders, Stranger Things, and The Umbrella Academy.

In depth info:

I can be described as independent, stubborn, intelligent, eccentric, and cold–hearted (as I have been given the nickname Ice Queen).

I get anxious and stressed pretty easily but I hide it well and try to move on if it's not too severe. I am very family oriented even if they get on my nerves. I find it very funny because I am one of my parents youngest kids, but have lived as the oldest in the house, and I'm the middle child of the youngest three. Essentially I have oldest, middle, and youngest child vibes.

I mimic others easily especially if I'm around them for a while. I have a fantastic sense of humor and am in love with puns and dad jokes.

My taste in everything is very all over the place. I like all music and will watch or read almost anything you put in front of me. I love to sing, read, play piano, learn, watch crime shows, and write.

I tend to be very quiet until I have known the people I'm around for a bit then I don't know when to stop.

I love animals and most often get along well with them. Pitbulls are my favorite dog breed and I will absolutely die on that hill.

I dress how I want when I want. For example one day I'll be in a very pretty dress and look fabulous then the next I'll be a disco girl and after that I'll look like the handsomest little guy there is.

I have a very keen sense for observation and try to be three steps ahead. I love to be prepared as it makes me nervous when I am not. I tend to predict how things will turn out and am very good at sniffing out who likes who (including myself).

I did a bit of a ramble, but I know the more information the better. So I really appreciate you reading my ramble and all. Thank you!

Want to be shipped? Here be the instructions 🦋

Hello, my darling! You sound like such a lovely person <3

What each ship has in common: ⋆ Headstrong ⋆ Independent ⋆ Notable  ⋆ ‘Man in charge’ ⋆ Admirable

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Thomas Shelby. I think he would connect with your traits such as your keen observational sense, intelligence and the fact that your nicknamed the Ice Queen. By this I mean he isn’t one to show emotions, and I think he would go well with someone who can overcome their stress/anxiety to focus on the task at hand!

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・I think you would meet because he needed something (from your family shop, the place you work etc.) 

・He has a keen observation as well, and is able to sniff out people who have useful aspects. I definitely think he would see this in you, and therefore want your intelligence and knowledge to help with the business

・Sitting at his desk when he gets back late, you doing some of the paperwork. He’ll just lean against the doorway, light up a cigarette and smirk at you

・Calling each other by your last names

・Having the respect of his brothers

・Getting to know Polly and actually really liking each other

・Having insightful discussions with Ada about politics, literaure and just ... life

・He would always make sure you’re safe. Once you have the Shelby name than you will be protected even by title. No one would fck with you. Like ever. 

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your ability to see more than others around you do. You’re able to acclimatize into groups and situations, which he finds impressive. Also, the fact that you like to be prepared. He doesn’t like spontaneity, or rather, he doesn’t appreciate it. 

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

I think Ada would be your best friend. She would love having you in the family, more girls to outweigh the guys. She loves your intelligence and likes to pick your brain. You would have such great conversation!

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I SHIP YOU WITH EDDIE MCBEAUTIFULFACE MUNSON <3 <3 <3 THE MAN OF EVERYONE’S DREAMS. THE METAL HEAD THAT CHANGED A UNIV- okay sorry I’m going too far. But honestly this man right here, this one, yeah he’s amazing. Enthusiastic, charming, kind-hearted!!!!!!!! His heart <3 is SO SOFT, He loves loves loves to make people feel comfortable. Literally you would suit each other so well!

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・BRAIDING HIS HAIR, if you don’t know how to braid then just playing with it. He will literally moan at how nice your fingers feel on his scalp. 

・He would follow you around like a lost puppy unless he’s focusing on DnD, then his whole concentration would be on that. I think he would love your input too

・Singing along to both of your favourite songs, like full air guitar, jumping around, making so much noise!!!! It would be such a blast!!!!

・Dustin would absolutely love you, anyone that Eddie adores, Dustin would too

・Sitting in between in his legs reading while he watches a movie or reading to him. He would absolutely adore your voice

・Kissing each other’s knuckles

・Having so many inside jokes

・Uncle Wayne thinks you’re such a good influence on Eddie and he has hope for his nephew’s future 

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your smile. Your brain. He just loves the way you work. He finds you so interesting. Like he’s so stumped that someone like you would ever want someone like him. I definitely think Eddie is a tad insecure and hides it with his loud personality.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

I think you would have such a fun time having Robin as your best friend. I was going to say Nancy, but I think with friendships, you deserve someone who is out of the box, who has great enthusiasm and can make you feel at ease. 

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Diego! I think he would absolutely suit you so fricken well. You would bond over being so hypervigilant and feel at ease around each other. There’s a hidden piece that Diego realises you fill inside of him. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You guys would definitely start off as enemies. Like even if you’re just an ordinary person working at a cash register, he would come in and be like “oh ... it’s you...” 

   And you’d just roll your eyes. 

・It would evolve because somehow he either needed your help or you were thrown into some sort of apocopyptic catastrophe and needed to be rescued. And Diego came as your knight in shining armour. 

・I can see there being such witty banter, like the sarcastic comments never stop once you get together

・Learning about Diego’s past and feeling really upset about it. You hate it when people having a horrible upbringing and to see someone who is still carrying that weight of that ... it breaks your heart

・He would be such a good cuddler - like imagine him wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight against your chest

・SO PROTECTIVE, YOU ARE HIS BABY AND HE WILL DIE FOR YOU.

・Hand holding <3 he doesn’t want to at first and tries to deny all the lovey dovey stuff but you don’t take it personally. But he is just teasing and as soon as you start to walk away, he’ll grab you and pull you back

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

That you’re stable within his life. He didn’t grow up with love, he didn’t grow up with a proper family. There was so much consistency around traumatic behaviour from his father that having a loving partner, who is stable - is such a change. Diego absolutely loves that he can count on you. 

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

I honestly think you and Viktor would get along so well. He would understand your sensitive side (especially that pisces moon and cancer rising!!!) I can definitely see Viktor having pisces and/or cancer in their big 3. 

You would bring a lot of love to the Hargreeves family as a whole. And they all cherish your friendship!

[dazaiscrimes]

it’s all shits and giggles until it gets serious

I wrote this for all Taurus’ out there but especially @megumifushi 

warnings: tooth-rooting fluff, crack, maybe a little ooc of Megumi but I really wanted this to be about him

wc: 1.1k

You would describe your relationship with Megumi to others who asked as an easy-going friendship. Hell, probably the most stable friendship you have ever had. You might even laugh and call it destiny. Megumi and his older sister, Tsumiki, moved into your complex when you were six and he has been a constant in your life ever since. Your mom would always invite them over for dinner, worrying over their lack of a constant adult figure in their lives. Dinners would turn into play dates, then into sleepovers, then into long weekend trips out of town with the family. You had always been closer to Megumi due to the age difference and soon you were best friends. You attended the same grade school and even followed him into middle school.

You were a real two peas in a pod.

Things started to change when you both got to high school, him deciding to go to what he called a religious private school (you would later find out it was Jujutsu High and what he was doing there) and you a school across town. But you never truly lost touch. Sure, it was harder to spend time together consistently, but he made sure that he would come by your family home at least every month to have dinner with you and your family. After Tsumiki was cursed, he broke down and told you everything, about curses, about the Zen’in family, about his technique. You took it all in stride, not once interrupting him and giving him the support he needed.  He knew he could come to you after particularly rough battles, and you would patch him up to the best of your ability. You decided to go to university nearby and continued to be the support he would rely on. A few years later, he attends your graduation with your family, buys you a huge bouquet of red roses, embarrasses you in front of all your friends (you even became friends with the whole Jujutsu High crew), and treats you to dinner afterwards.

You find yourself giggling hard as he carries you home, struggling to find a cab at such a later hour, on graduation day no less. Megumi tries his best, carrying your bridal style as you were too stubborn to take off the (decidedly bad decision) 6-inch heels.

“Megumiiiii, I wanna hang out! I beat I can convince Yuji and Maki to arm wrestle again!” you giggled, hot breath tickling his ear. He slight shivers at your how close your mouth is, and you pull away thinking he was uncomfortable with the situation.

“It is 3am, Y/N. We all know Yuji is a baby and he is already in bed. Another time, I promise,” he replies tiredly. The pout you make at his statement honestly gives his heart a little *dabump*. Stop these thoughts immediately, he tries to calm himself.

Eventually, you make it back to your apartment and he suplex’s you onto the bed with a big sigh. “And his name is John Cena, *cue meme music*” you struggle through the laughter. He simply rolls his eyes at you and plops next to you. A few quiet minutes pass and you think he must have passed out until he asks you a question out of the blue.

“You’re a Taurus, right?” he questions you timidly.

You lazily turn your whole body around, facing him. “Mhmm, why?”

“Nothing,” You watch him turn his face away quickly, but not before you notice the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Throughout your time knowing Megumi, he had always asked some strange questions like this. Your favorite flowers, movies, anime, you name it. He would always surprise you with his knowledge about you, but honestly, you kept the same tabs on him as well. You knew he hated red bell peppers and sweet side dishes, that he tamed his demon dogs at age 6, and that his favorite book genre was nonfiction.  If you were to think deeper about it, you would know you loved him. But you pushed those feelings aside, knowing that something between you could never happen. He just was not into you the same way, only seeing you as his “good friend,” which is how he introduced you to all his friends.

You decide to let the question pass, not really thinking that it was out of the ordinary. Another 10 minutes passed by when you feel the bed shift and suddenly, you’re staring into the deep ocean color of his eyes. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves, giving you a comfort about also, a tug of the heart. He was untouchable to you. The words that come out of his mouth are not at all what you were expecting.

“Did you know that Taurus and Capricorn’s are highly compatible?” He spits out quickly. “Apparently, they are always on the same wavelength, and find it very easy to understand each other. You know, I really understand you. You are like a rock, uh, solid, unmovable. You are always there for me, loyal. Look, what I am trying to say, is that I think we would be compatible??”

You are stunned by this sudden outburst. Never, and you mean never, has he said so many words so quickly with uncertainty. For all the years you’ve known him, he has been a constant, stoic man, never letting his emotions go unchecked. You feel your jaw drop open, mouth just opening and closing, trying to form a sentence but failing miserably. You feel his stare and he starts to babble more.

“Nobara gave me a crash course on zodiac compatibility and honestly, I didn’t believe in this stuff before but after learning how similar it sounded…” his sentence was suddenly cut off by your lips. His lips were warm, soft, and tasted slightly of ginger. As soon as he processes what was happening, he responds immediately. He gently grabs your face and pulls in closer. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, asking for permission. You gladly accept him further and you feel like bliss.

Eventually, you both must come up for air and end up staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments. You never thought in your wildest dreams that this would be a possibly, that he would reject you all along. But what if he had those same thoughts? Is that why he has waited so long to tell you? His eyes conveyed all the emotion he was not able to say out loud.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It had been years since that moment, and it changed everything. You glance down at the wedding band on your finger for a second, reminiscing about the old times. You feel Megumi come up behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

“That time Nobara tricked you into believing zodiac compatibility,” you hear him snort behind you. “I’m glad it worked.”

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“By the way, how did she convince of this?” You raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to tell a lie.

“She snuck a whole pamphlet into my book and wouldn’t leave me alone until I read it. She even recruited Yuji and Gojo to pester me about it. I hate dealing with people, so I finally gave in,” he sighs. “I hate them, but also, thanks I guess.”

[ravensbug]

Beautiful

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Lin Beifong x reader

Request: No

Prompt: “It’s beautiful”

Summary: You’ve been stuck at home ever since you broke your leg. Lin refused to even let you go to the precinct to work at your desk. Seeing as you had nothing to do at home you decide to paint, seeing as it has been years since you’ve done so. Lin comes to visit to see how you're doing and admires your paintings. She visits more often to see how they’re going.

You picked up the two-inch brush and primed your canvas with turpentine. You decided you were going to use oil paints today, rather than the watercolor you’d been using for the past week. It was a change of pace since oil paint took much longer to dry. It allowed for more complex ideas and significantly more details.

You were always fond of painting animals, either from memory or when they would sit outside your window. You mostly painted birds, but there were a few cats and dogs scattered throughout your list of paintings.

Switching to a different brush, you situated yourself in a more comfortable position in your chair. Painting was much easier when you were standing, but your broken leg didn’t allow you to do that. It was more like Lin wouldn’t allow you to. She would scold you if she came over to find you standing while painting.

You really wished you two could spend more time together, but being a cop was a time consuming job for the both of you. More so for Lin, being the Police Chief and all.

Her visits were always nice. She would usually come with food, knowing you spend all day painting without a break. Of course she wouldn’t have eaten either, so she couldn’t judge you too harshly.

Today you decided to paint a raven, by far your favorite bird. Even though it’s feathers were all black, you were able to put so much color and detail into them. Of course feathers were still a pain in the ass to paint. If even one was off by size, color, or even shading you had to repaint it.

But that’s what made oil paint so much better than watercolor for this. If it didn’t look right then you could fix it. The paint didn’t dry right away. It was a nice ‘cheat’ as you would call it, even though it wasn’t cheating.

The downside was that the paint didn’t dry right away. Kind of redundant, but you couldn’t do too much work all in one day. The paint had to dry so you could add some details without the colors mixing. Things like eyes would be done last to avoid any chance of the paint getting wet.

You took a small amount of the general paint colors and painted over your sketch. You could still see the sketch, but there was a light layer of colored turpentine now covering it.

Turpentine was very important for oil paints. The paint refuses to attach itself to the canvas without it. It also serves as the cleaning agent, as water only moves the paint around everywhere.

You took some of the grey and began with the beak of the bird. Starting at the top was important to avoid smudging. You also had the background to worry about, but that would come last. You would rather be able to remove the excess paint covering the raven than paint over the background and have layering issues.

Once you were satisfied with the color and shading of the beak you moved on to the head. Black paint would be what you used for the most part. The eye, and the shading around it would come last, but it was still black.

You painted the small feathers that stick out from its head as well as the ones that cover some of the beak. The paint was nice and smooth, so you could get fine lines out of it when you needed to.

You painted down the neck and stopped before the wings began. It’s important to know that with oil paint you work from dark to light, rather than from light to dark. Lighter oil paints, like white, can never truly be covered once added. You avoid this by always adding less white until you get the desired shade.

Once you added the small details to add definition to the head and neck you began work on the wings. The most painstaking part of the painting. You started with the left wing first, which was at an angle. Less feathers to paint and it allowed you to get a technique figured out for this painting.

Because of the background you had chosen, a cherry blossom tree, you decided that the highlights on the feathers would include some green and even a hint of blue. It created a contrast that was noticeable, but wasn’t ugly.

The top of the wing was much easier to deal with as it was made up of smaller feathers. Since the wings were both tucked in you could get away with only using vague highlights to show off the small feathers. You knew you would come back to them eventually, either later while painting or when you finally decided you needed to fix it. For now it looked fine.

Moving down to the individual feathers you painted them one by one. Not just plain black either. Full shading on each feather before you moved onto the next. And if the previous feather didn’t look right after you finished another you would go back until it looked right. This was tedious and sometimes annoyed the hell out of you, but making these feathers look right was your main priority.

About halfway through the first wing you threatened to rip the canvas in half. The feathers weren’t cooperating like you wanted and there was the nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that you could never get them right.

Oh the perks of being able to paint. On one hand it relaxed you and kept you from thinking about being stuck in your apartment all day. On the other it pissed you off to no end when you couldn’t get something exactly right.

You eventually gave into your frustration when you threw the brush at the painting. It didn’t ruin anything thankfully, but it made you feel better.

Sitting back in your chair you couldn’t help but scold yourself for being stuck in this situation. You were always careful when it came to using your cables and zipping around the city or down from one of the blimps. But as life would have it you still weren’t careful enough.

Your fall wasn’t life threatening in any way, thankfully. Lin wouldn’t have known what to do if it had been. It was maybe fifteen or twenty feet from the ground when your cable suddenly snapped. There was training for these instances and you knew what to do.

You had used your other cable and attached it to a nearby building. It helped angle your descent to not have as much of impact which was the key to why you weren’t injured anymore. But you still managed to land awkwardly, catching your foot on a small hole in the street and breaking plenty of bones.

The adrenaline of the whole situation caused you to not feel anything, which was for the better. You tried standing up, but when your leg refused to hold your weight you knew something had happened.

Lin ignored whatever they had come to do in the first place and ran over to you. You weren’t crying, but there was a sense of sadness or disappointment around you.

No matter how many times you and the doctor told Lin you were going to be ok she never really believed it until you got home. You would have a cast on for six months or more if you tried to use the leg. You knew it would be more because you were stubborn as hell.

You didn’t want this to stop you from working, even if you were stuck at your desk for those six plus months. Lin, however, refused to let you come to work. She personally walked with you back to your apartment after you had come to the station the day after getting injured.

Lin would rather you be in a wheelchair than crutches, but she knows she can’t control everything you do. She remembers that you can handle yourself even if you’re more vulnerable now. She spends more time with you because of that, but neither of you complain.

Once you were done reminiscing about how you got to where you were right now you took a deep breath. Art wasn’t easy, you knew that. Being out of practice wasn’t much help either.

You picked up the brush from its spot on the floor and cleaned it off. The floor had some paint on it, but it was nothing a rag couldn’t clean up. At least it wasn’t a spill.

After another deep breath you went back to the feathers. Taking that short break to let out your frustration worked well. Whatever was stopping you from figuring out had left your mind. You could see that it was simply how wide the feather was. A stupid mistake that you scolded yourself for.

Finishing the wing became much easier now. It wasn’t faster because even though there were less feathers as you went down they also got longer.

You noted that you might have to change the shading after getting an idea. It was only a maybe though. Making it seem like there were flowers above the bird and out of view was hard, but not impossible. You would come back to that idea later.

The body in between the wings was left unshaded. Plain black was enough since your light source would make it shadowed anyway.

Now came the second wing. It would have to take much more time and patience for you to do this one, as you could see more of it than the other wing. Thinking you had plenty of time left in the day to finish the painting you started on the wing. You only stopped when you heard the lock of your door turn.

Were you startled by it? Yes, you definitely were. But it could be argued that Lin was more startled by having a knife floating inches from her face as she opened the door.

“Lin! Spirits you scared me!” you guided the knife back to the counter.

“I’m glad you’re prepared for intruders,” She seemed unphased even though you knew better than to think that.

“C’mon. You don’t need to be the high and mighty Chief of Police here,” you smirked. That was one of the things she had started to do around you. Let down her guard. It was rare for her to do that and you felt appreciated knowing she did that around you.

“I brought you dinner.” she lifted the bag of food in her hand. It was for both of you, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

“You’ve been working on that all day haven’t you?” she placed the food down on the counter and walked over to you. She studied the painting while waiting for you to respond.

“Apparently I have,” you sighed. “I don’t even know the time.” You leaned over and looked at the clock. Seven in the evening.

“Well you got off early,” you smiled at Lin. It was rare for her to get off anytime before eight.

“Wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all,” there was a small grin that showed on her lips. You wondered if she left early on purpose just to see you.

“So what did you get us this time?” You added the us last second. You two had eaten dinner together so much in the past few weeks that it was the new normal for you two.

“Kwong’s,” she answered.

“No way! You didn’t?” You got up out of your chair and hobbled over, without your crutches. You were excited, who could blame you?

Kwong’s was something you had only a few times in your childhood, saved for ultra rare occasions, like your graduation.

When you made it over to the counter you saw that Lin had indeed gotten you two Kowng’s.

“How the hell did you get Kowng’s? They’ve been filled with customers for months.” Lin turned when she saw that you were now next to her. You knew your question wouldn’t be answered because of the scowl on her face.

“You have crutches, please use them. I’d like you back in the station as soon as possible,” she scolded you. It wasn’t her usual tone that she gave newbies at the station or even vets who were on her nerves. There was worry rooted deep in her voice. She cared about you, you knew that.

Lin walked over to where your crutches rested and grabbed them for you. She handed them to you and you reluctantly took them and put them under your arms.

“I’ll get the food ready, you go sit down. Use your crutches this time,” she told you.

You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the table. If anyone else had done that, they would have been dead. But you weren’t anyone and you figured that out when you got injured.

You had speculated that Lin had liked you after the fourth day of her bringing dinner, as an excuse to see you. She would always say she was checking in, lying to herself about why she came to see you every time.

Once you had confirmed it, which was hard to do, you tried to get her to admit it for a while. You knew nothing could make Lin blush, let alone laugh, so when you were able to do both, that was the confirmation. That happened almost a week ago. Her hesitation to tell you frustrated you to no end, much like the feathers on your raven had.

Lin placed the take out boxes on the table and grabbed plates from your cabinets. Once they were on the table you both served yourselves some food.

Talk was usually minimal when you two were eating. You occasionally asked about what was happening at the station and Lin would usually tell you. She would grumble about it of course, because everyone there seemed to think her advice or orders didn’t matter to them. You would always listen, only sometimes saying things back to her about whatever she was grumbling about.

Today there was a strange call in and Lin couldn’t even finish telling you what happened before you were laughing your head off. You laughing brought a smile to her face because it was the first good thing that happened to her today.

When you two finish eating Lin is the one to clean everything up. You protest by trying to get up, but your leg seems to have a mind of its own and sends a wave of pain up your spine. You winced and sat back down in defeat.

Lin gave you another glare, but it was still soft. No anger was present, she couldn’t be angry at you. She would have done the same thing if it was her with the injury. Nothing would have stopped her from continuing to work in the station. Well you probably would and Lin would listen to you.

That was another thing that Lin would let only you do, argue. She would shut everyone else down immediately. Of course when she had tried to do that to you, you didn’t cower away like everyone else. You stood your ground against her and she admired that about you.

When she finished cleaning up dinner she moved to grab her coat and leave. You didn’t want her to. It was always what she did. Come in, eat dinner, and leave. It was nice and all, but you felt lonely cooped up all day.

“Could you stay? At least for a little while?” you asked. You sounded more desperate than you wanted, but it was how you felt.

Lin had stopped putting her coat on and looked at you. You felt like you made a mistake, but it was too late to go back now.

“We don’t have to talk or anything, I just don’t want to be alone.” You really sounded desperate now. You scolded yourself in your head for it.

“Sure,” she hesitated. “Of course.” She didn’t know why she hesitated to answer. Of course she wanted to spend time with you, that’s why she came over with dinner all the time. Bringing dinner was just the excuse though.

“You can continue painting if you want,” she suggested. You thought about it and then shrugged.

“I think I’m done working on that for today. It’s already made me frustrated enough,” you glared at the painting like that would do something.

“Are you having trouble?” she asked in disbelief. She was walking closer to the painting again, looking it over for a second time.

“Yeah, feathers are a lot harder than you think. It still doesn’t look perfect.” you had come over to the painting, on your crutches, and stood next to Lin.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she told you. “It’s beautiful.”

It was your turn to blush for the first time. You didn’t know if Lin wanted you to blush or not, but that wasn’t important. What she said was. She had always complimented your art when she came over, but it was always “This looks nice,” or a simple “Wow”. Her calling your art beautiful was like her holding your heart in her hands. Surprisingly soft for someone compared so closely to the element she could bend.

“T-Thanks,” you muttered.

“It’s been awhile since someone’s seen my art let alone compliment it,” you explained. Like that was the only reason for you to be flustered.

“I don’t understand why you ever stopped.” She looked at some of your finished watercolor paintings that were hanging by clips in front of your window.

“I never had the time when I was always at the station. I tried for a few months, but it just became stressful rather than relaxing,” you explained.

She had stopped and looked at one particular painting that stood out from the rest. It was the only non-animal painting you had. Still watercolor of course, which made it even more brilliant in Lin’s opinion.

She recognized it in a second. It was the view of the city from her office. You had painted her office. She smiled as she looked over the picture. She couldn’t see any mistakes. You truly strived for perfection in this painting.

“Oh,” you realized which painting she was looking at. “I was really missing the station that day. It made me feel better having some part of it here, even if it was a painting.”

Lin felt honored that you had chosen the view from her office as the part of the station you wanted to paint. She felt so gullible right now. Both of you felt that way.

“Thank you for always coming over,” you had said this a few times before over the past weeks.

“I honestly don’t know what I would do if you didn’t. I’d probably go crazy,” you laughed. That wasn’t entirely true. You would have found something to do, it wouldn’t have been as nice as having dinner with Lin, but it would be something.

“I’m sure you could’ve managed. Plus, there’s no one else checking up on you, so how am I supposed to know how you’re doing?” she raised an eyebrow at you.

“You could let me work at my desk,” you suggested.

“That’s not happening as long as you have that on your leg.” She pointed to the cast on your leg.

“I am perfectly capable of handling myself,” you argued.

You shouldn’t have argued. You knew that as soon as a sly smirk appeared on Lin’s face.

You had been leaning on your crutches while Lin had been talking to you. She knew that’s what you were doing and took advantage of that. She simply kicked one of the crutches out from underneath you and sent you falling to the ground.

“Shi-” You couldn’t react in enough time to find something to stop you from falling. You didn’t need to find anything because Lin wasn’t actually going to let you hit the ground.

You felt the wire wrap around your waist and hold you in your almost fallen position. You looked up at Lin who still had that smirk on her face.

“Y’know you really are mean,” you said jokingly. She grabbed your arm and pulled you back up. You leaned on her for support since you had dropped your other crutch while falling.

“I try,” she smiles. “Comes with the job.”

“Yet you rarely are to me.” you continued to lean on her.

“Because I don’t need to be with you. You actually listen to what I say,” she told you. You weren’t the only person who listens to her, Mako occasionally does, but that’s only after she scolds him.

“One, you’re my boss and two its kind of hard to ignore what you say,” you explained. Was this you admitting how you sometimes got lost in whatever she was saying? Yes it was.

“Everyone else has a pretty easy time ignoring me,” Lin counters. She took what you said as a compliment, in a way. She wasn’t sure what you were trying to say, so she couldn’t tell herself that it was really a compliment.

Your words were caught in your throat. How exactly could you tell her that you got lost in her voice. That sometimes your heart flutters around her the same way you know hers does around you. You really couldn’t explain in words. So you didn’t.

Did you regret moving in to kiss her? No, not one bit. Hell you were glad you finally did it because you knew Lin had been dodging around her feelings for weeks.

Her arms snaked around to hold you by the waist and you wrapped your arms around her neck. It felt so good, it felt perfect. You wanted to stay like that forever. But unfortunately both of you still need air to breath so you have to stop.

“You…” Lin began before pausing.

“Oh don’t act coy with me. You don’t think I’ve figured out why you come here so often?” You watched embarrassment flood her face.

“Not that I would have wanted it any differently,” you smiled. That made her feel better.

“Am I not allowed to worry?” She asked. She looked at you and the shell, the armor, that she wore to keep her emotions hidden was off. She was out in the open, her heart in your hands.

“You are. I’m glad you do,” you were still smiling. Of course you wanted her to worry, it made you feel loved.

“I still want to go back to my desk though,” you complained.

“What am I going to do with you?” she sighed.

“Love me?” you gave her a cheesy grin.

She rolled her eyes and kissed you again. Mostly to make sure you weren’t going to ask to go back to the station. You were hers to protect and she was going to make sure that you stayed here until your leg healed. Even if she didn’t bring dinner every night.

[narrators-journal]

Tooth rotting fluff of ukryu in the modern cafe au 👉👈 make both of us happy. Idc if you write something out or do hcs we just need a liddle love

I did my best to make it properly cute, but I honestly struggle to tell if something is truly cute to anyone but me. This little scenario was inspired partially by a story by, I believe, IAmStoryteller on archive of our own, all respect to them for this idea!

Ukyo's plan after the military had been to settle down and live a quiet, stress-free life, so he found himself a quaint cafe to work at in a quiet part of town. It was a dream job for him, not super busy most of the time, lovely bosses, and the rowdiest coworker he had was a girl in university who had a habit of singing her heart out to Lillian almost as soon as he left at the end of his shift and she was alone. The only other nuisance Ukyo found was a specific customer. Ryusui Nanami, of the Nanami conglomerate.

Ryusui was known for being a loud, abrasive, slightly out-of-touch rich kid who seemed to have no idea about honest struggles, so the radar technician didn't exactly start off liking him. However, the millionaire was swift to set his sights on the shorter man and was determined to disrupt his peaceful life with his well-off chaos. At first, Ukyo thought he'd get the hint that this hairbrained scheme of his wasn't going to work, but Ryusui was as stubborn as a mule and was shockingly charming and accommodating, which was Ukyo's one weakness when coupled with how attractive the heir to the Nanami conglomerate was.

He was just as loud as the cafe worker had thought he'd be, but when Ukyo explained how sensitive his hearing was, he actually toned it down, and sometimes would even go so far as to use sign language if it was one of the cafe's rare busy days and the place was already roaring with noise. With that, and some other charming things he'd done, the pretty rich boy had managed to finally win Ukyo over, and so, their relationship started.

It'd now only been two months at most since Ukyo had been lured into dating him, but he'd already been tossed from Ryusui's bedroom window like a child's bag of soccer equipment, which is why they now mostly spent the night together on his ship, harassed by Minami for answers to her questions about their rumored relationship, and subjected to sugar baby jokes by customers who assumed correctly that he and the blonde were an item despite them not being public thanks to Ryusui's parents being hellbent on his sexuality staying under wraps.

Though Ukyo had to admit, it wasn't that bad despite Ryusui's family life being...strange, and the few times the well-off man forgot his boundaries about noise. Despite his mask of being obnoxiously out of touch with reality though, Ryusui was honestly one of the most compassionate people Ukyo'd met in a long while.        "It's all an act, Uky," he'd admitted to the snowy-haired sonar-tech on their third date, "It's easier for me to just be the person everyone expects me to be than to fight it to try and convince them I've changed," he explained, taking a bite of the Alfredo Francois had made them for the date,        "Well, you realize you don't have to fake it around me, right? I think I would've left by now if I wasn't willing to accept you not being as awful as people say you are." the other man hummed, and Ryu looked at him, somewhat measuring his honesty before swallowing his mouthful and nodding. Ever since then, Ryusui had been much more open and relaxed around Ukyo. Even when he came by the cafe he worked at, Ryusui still came off as a more honest version of himself, not as snobby or pushy, just purely excitable, like a puppy dog.

The memory made Ukyo smile a bit, so he rolled over in the small bed he and the blonde currently laid in on Ryusui's boat to snake his arm around him as the sea swayed and rocked them gently,         "Whatcha up to, pretty boy?" the millionaire hummed, looking down at the smaller male who was cuddling up to him now, "I'm just being affectionate." he hummed, making the man snort, but he didn't deny him the cuddles, just putting his arm around him loosely and returning to watching his phone.

For a while, Ukyo just cuddled up to Ryusui and was comfortable until his phone buzzed and his alarm for work went off.         "I thought you didn't work today," the millionaire huffed, tightening his hold on the smaller male while he squirmed to get to his phone,        "I don't, but one of the workers had an exam today, so I offered to take her shift," Ukyo explained, stretching himself and trying to take advantage of how the gentle rocking of the ocean sometimes scooted his phone just a bit closer until he could finally grab it. So, the problem of the alarm was solved, but now he had to pry himself away from his boyfriend.        "Ryusui," he sighed, turning his head to look back at the noisy blonde as best he could with said blonde nuzzled into his neck, "Let go now, I need to get to work." All he got was a muffled 'nuh-uh'.

With a small sigh, the snow-haired veteran began wriggling and writhing and lighting smacking at Ryusui when he tightened his hold too much until finally he managed to win his freedom and scramble to his feet. In response, his boyfriend sighed dramatically, rolling onto his back and acting as if losing his small cuddle buddy was the end of the world for a moment, then he finally sat up and helped Ukyo gather his things. After that, he didn't actually complain or pout as he simply drove Ukyo closer to the cafe he worked at, but he did get revenge.

Just as the radar technician was getting out of the car and gathering his things, Ryusui came over to his side of the car and struck like a waiting, publicly affectionate snake, hugging him, littering his face with kisses, knowing very well how much PDA embarrassed the shorter man.        "I swear to god, Ryusui stop it! This is humiliating!" he whined, trying to contort himself to avoid the onslaught of kisses, but with the sailor being around 6'2 and as stubbornly strong as he was, Ukyo had no choice but to bear the act until he was finally released, his boyfriend satisfied with the vibrant red of his cheeks.         "Have a good day at work~" He sang, returning to the driver's side of the car, acting as if his partner wasn't glaring daggers at him. Afterward, Ukyo just shook his head and huffed, but went to the cafe, not really as mad as he acted.

[dearingbooks]

The Difference one Woman can make.

Late Friday night in June, we had stopped for a burger on the way to the cinema, we used to do family movie nights at the cinema when a new film came out that the majority of us wanted to watch, this time I was the one who was reluctant to go, sadly we do this significantly less now.  So, stubborn 2015 me, rolling her eyes and dragging her feet up the cinema steps to find our seats to watch the new Jurassic World movie. Pathetic! I thought, why pay money to watch a movie about a dinosaur theme park! My parents had completely lost it! Huffing and puffing I took my seat on the aisle and sipped my blue raspberry slushie and looked up at the big screen. Ugh! I wanted it to be over, quickly. I sat down and shut my mouth, despite not wanting to watch it, I wasn’t going to spoil it for the others; but I didn’t get why they would want to watch it, I watched the trailer before going, was not impressed, it looked dumb!

However, as much as my pre-Jurassic self would not like, I found who I was during that movie, I discovered a whole new admiration for actors and movies. I found that I related to the main female protagonist, Claire Dearing. She did not need a man, or children, she was so focused on her career and let no one boss her around. She was top dog, and I completely fell for this fictional character. I evolved through that movie with her character, I felt content with being a strong female who put career over family. I wanted to embody this fictional woman; I wanted to be her.

On the journey home I typed ‘Claire Dearing actress’ into google and saw this stunning redhead- Bryce Dallas Howard. I immediately recognised her from movies I had watched prior, and I was completely astounded at her range of characters she can portray and portray them well. After scrolling through her Wiki page and reading news articles about her, I learned that she is the daughter of Ron Howard, one of my parents’ favourite people in film.

“Dad, that woman in the movie is Ron Howard's daughter”, I needed to inform my family that my now favourite woman in film is the daughter of my parents’ favourite people in film. My parents were shocked that I enjoyed the movie despite my loud vocalisation of not wanting to watch it.

Googling ‘Bryce Dallas Howard’ became my new after school routine, learning that she applied to acting school as Bryce Dallas to avoid people knowing she is the daughter of an already famous actor and director, and she had met her true love at nineteen and is still happily married to him. Yet what most stuck out to the self-conscious, body hating 2015 me, was that Bryce wasn’t a skinny twig of a woman that you see in most movies, she had classy curves and promoted body positivity despite some backlash the media gave her. I made a connection with this woman I had never met because I too received negative comments about my figure, yet Bryce took that on the shoulder and learned to love herself. I wanted to feel that self-love about myself that she acquired.

After watching Jurassic World, I explored many more fandoms, and from there I became obsessed with movie franchises and TV shows, actors and directors. I could not give you a full list of all of the fandoms I am in, there are too many to count, and they have all played a role in helping me evolve to who I am today. All because I latched onto one character from one movie I did not even want to watch, one film got me hooked on this life: it’s like a drug. I cannot stop. I also went back and forth with my hairstyle due to this woman; in the movie Bryce has a stunning ginger graduated bob with a fringe, however I never had the guts to go ginger until now; shame the hairdressers are all shut.

Now, almost six years later Bryce Dallas Howard has had great success in directing two episodes of The Mandalorian. Over the Christmas break I watched the show with my dad, sat on the sofa, fire lit, the chocolate Labrador curled up between us, peach vodka and diet lemonade in my hand, hot cup of tea in my dad’s. We binge watched both seasons in a week (it’s amazing) and he was shocked to see ‘Directed by Bryce Dallas Howard’ at the end of one, let alone two episodes. “Shit, she’s come far in the past few years” he said putting another episode on.

Bryce allowed me to find my best friend, Iz, through Instagram; Bryce has brought so many people together it is so surreal. And when I found out that Iz was going to Southampton University in 2019, a 20-minute drive from my house, I was finally able to meet her, because of one woman we both adore. I was friends with Iz for three years before I was able to meet her, I asked my school friend to come along with me so she could film the moment Iz, and I met! We got pancakes and watched the second Maleficent movie at the cinema, it was one of the best days of my life. I was so thankful that I met a truly hilarious and loving girl through this one actress! Because of Bryce Dallas Howard, I have made so many other friends from all over the globe as they too idolise Bryce and together we have created the ‘BDH online family’. A small group of us do regular zoom calls to catch up and chat about the recent photos and updates that Bryce has posted on Instagram, talk about Covid-19 and the types of restrictions and lockdown rules each of our countries has. During one of our calls, we had the craziest idea- Invite Bryce to one of our zoom calls. Bryce said yes! And after a few months of organisation, we had the date. The date was-

My.

Birthday.

The day came around and I was so nervous, it was 11pm exactly. The Wi-Fi had cut out fifteen minutes before the call. I was in tears. Mascara down my face, puffy eyes, I joined the call with a few minutes to spare before Bryce joined it. My mum hung around off camera for the first 5 minutes to double check the Wi-Fi was stable, luckily it stabilised. The other girls had never been so glad to see me, everyone was panicked for me; I could not miss it for the world (despite telling my parents, in floods of tears, that I cannot join and that it’s the end of that).

“Kat! You’re here!” “Happy birthday!” “Are you okay? The Wi-Fi sorted?”

They all chimed, happy to see my little face in the bottom right corner of their computer screens. Luckily Iz was there, otherwise it would have been extremely awkward with only one of us since we are known as a duo in the online family, we have to do everything together, we come in a pair and there can’t just be one of us.

“Shit girls, that was stressful”

I hadn’t realised I was holding my breath until I exhaled the large breath when my    Wi-Fi settled, and I was on the call, I fixed my makeup and was ready to meet Bryce.

The few minutes we had before Bryce joined were intense, two of the girls left to get a drink and we weren’t sure if they would be back in time, luckily they did return.

“No way!” One of them, Anna who was hosting the call, gasped “Bryce is in the waiting room!”

We all freak for no more than 10 seconds, we compose ourselves then our faces are reshuffled, and we see this stunning glowing face that we all admire smiling at us. Omg, it's her.

“Hi girls!”

I have never smiled for so long in my entire life, my cheeks hurt afterwards. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining at all, it just hurt as I thought I would only be smiling for half an hour, since that is how long we were told Bryce had. However, we were speaking to Bryce for nearly an hour and a half, she just kept talking and asked us questions! She was so lovely to talk to, so relaxed; it was if I was talking to a friend that I had known for years!

“Before we go I want to all sing Kat a happy birthday!”

My idol wanted to sing me a happy birthday! The other girls were really ecstatic for me, I still can’t believe to this day that The Bryce Dallas Howard wanted to sing to me!

It was both the best and the worst happy birthday song that has be sung to me. It was the best because, well my idol was singing to me! And proposed the singing! It was the worst in terms of the actual song as they were all out of sync and lagging, it was bloody hilarious!

At 10:27pm the next evening, watching a rerun of Game of Thrones on Sky, I got a notification ‘Brycedhoward just posted’, I clicked the notification then see our smiling faces on her page, she posted a screenshot of our call on her social media! The call was supposed to be a secret so other fans weren’t upset. There’s a few snotty comments on the post, but they’re just jealous and to be frank, I don’t care! My smiley face is on her page forever! All ten of us have printed the screenshot of Bryce’s post off and put it in a frame, one day all ten of us hope to congregate somewhere, most likely in America, and sign the backs of all of our photos. I’m still in utter awe and shock-  How many celebrities have you seen that would do a free zoom call with some fans? Not a lot, and that amount is even slimmer when they talk for an extra hour than scheduled. Bryce truly is one of a kind and the best idol anyone could ever hope to have.

Compared to a zoom call with Bryce herself, the few times she has liked my comments on her posts feel like nothing in comparison! I remember being so excited, running downstairs to my parents.

“Mum! Dad! Bryce liked my comment! She knows I exist!”

“Was it actually her? Remember when you got a Facebook request from Robert Downey Jr and it turned out it was a fake account?”

I rolled my eyes at her, it was Bryce, it was her verified account. The comment was a book recommendation I had for her, she posted on her hashtag BDHbookshelf and I thought I’d take a chance and comment a book recommendation I had for her, and the chance paid off.

I cannot wait to see what the future holds with Bryce, she has been such an inspiration to me for the past few years, and she promotes such wonderful causes and body positivity! I hope to one day meet her and thank her in person for changing my life for the better, and I think I’ve come up with the perfect opportunity to meet her- Iz and I have decided to travel up to London for the Jurassic World Dominion premiere in 2022 (if Covid lets us!), we’d get a hotel and actually meet Bryce in person, as well as meeting other members of the online family!

Words cannot fully contain the admiration that I possess for Bryce, her soul is utterly and truly exquisite, she has been such a visionary while I’ve been transitioning from a girl who had no idea who she was with no dreams or aspirations, to a woman who has now found so many new friends and now knows who she wants to be.  

[ruensroad]

o(≧∇≦o)

another sleep deprivation prompt!!! for rencheng!!! "What? Sorry, I'm having trouble focusing..."

Thank you! sorry for the delay, life got a little crazy!

From this prompt list and from this RenCheng AU :)

He could still hear her laughter, some days. Everytime he sat too straight, poured his tea too perfectly, she was there to chide him in his mind. Lan-xiong, so strict! Lan-xiong, so perfect!

While he could say with true honesty that he hadn’t fallen in love with Cangse Sanren the same way Jiang Fengmian had, a part of his heart still fully belonged to her. Which wasn’t too uncommon. Despite her carefree, chaotic nature, she had been beautiful and bright, and nearly everyone that she’d met had fallen in love with her to some degree - a sentiment that, no doubt, would have amused her greatly.

There had been a time that she’d been the bane of his existence. She was everything he wasn’t, everything he’d been taught was incorrect. She was wild and mischievous, unafraid to speak her mind. She laughed often and loudly and started duels because she could. Knowing now that feelings had formed for her explained some of his early reactions, his quick anger and frustration. 

She always had left him flustered, not only with her forwardness, but also her depth of kindness and understanding. Even when he had nearly gotten her and Jiang Fengmian killed, she had forgiven him. And sure, it had resulted in the loss of his goatee, but their friendship had been strong and forthright forever on, and even now touched his heart in ways not much did.

He felt, most days, like his heart was a house built of different rooms. One room was for his nephews, large and important. One was for his friends and family, whom he guarded like treasure. One was for Cangse Sanren and all other friends he had lost along the way. And one for-

“Shufu?” Lan Xichen asked, and by his tone he had been saying it for a little while. Lan Qiren blinked out of his stupor and realized he’d been stroking his beard, giving the illusion of deep thought. Judging by the concern on his nephew’s face, he must be quite the sight, frowning and thinking in his sleep clothes. He’d just awoken from his rest and lost himself to thoughts, which he never did. No doubt, Lan Xichen was ready to call for Wangji at the first sign of illness in a panic.

The thought made him smile, which probably helped nothing. “Forgive me, Xichen,” he murmured, trying to find some of that containment he was so known for. But he was soft today, lost in memories of a golden time. For they truly were tinted gold, those days where he and Jiang Fengmian had been pulled by their sashes after a laughing Cangse Sanren, who promised adventure and no end of trouble. “I did not hear you.”

Every memory he had in each locked room of his heart was colored differently. For his nephews, it was a somber, beautiful blue, and sometimes he could almost imagine the world actually tinted so when he was with them.

“I simply remarked on how long you slept, shufu,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that let Lan Qiren know he’d worried him. “And that I hope you are feeling better.”

Lan Xichen was kinder than the world deserved. Lan Qiren, soft as he was, took in the beloved planes of his face with pride before his eyes flickered down the root of the issue: an untouched cup of tea. Ah, no wonder. 

He took the tea and warmed it back up with a wash of qi, sipping it gratefully. Lan Xichen’s smile warmed in relief to see it.

“I am rested,” Lan Qiren promised and set the cup neatly back down, which only made Lan Xichen calm down further. It was always in his habits, he’d found, that Lan Xichen paid the most attention to. As did Wangji, and he smiled to himself at memories of a frowning, silent child worriedly pulling on his sleeve because he had not finished his tea. He would make sure to finish this cup for both their sakes, no matter how he truly felt. “Just in my thoughts this morning.”

Lan Xichen nodded and sipped his own tea, the movement graceful and perfect. He looked so much like his mother that the room in his heart where he’d secretly locked Madam Lan away ached. That room was coated in roses and black thorns, and he pushed her memories from the fore of his mind, but it was a little too late. He was already bared open, so the next words hit him like barbs, a thousand arrows to yet another room of his heart, colored in purple and echoing with distant thunder..

“Sect Leader Jiang has been asking about you,” Lan Xichen said and there was a tiny laugh in the words. “As has Young Master Jin. I haven not seen you play with anyone since Wangji, shufu.”

“He is a child, Xichen,” Lan Qiren defended easily, “and his uncle was sick. A simple decision to keep him calm.”

Nevermind that there were nannies here, and other children. It would have been just as simple to hand Jin Ling into the care of one of them and let him play away his worry with A-Yuan and A-Yi, and other boys and girls his own age. But that stubborn room in his heart had not let him, for it was beginning to sprout with golden peonies too, and already he could hear Cangse Sanren’s laughter.

Lan-xiong, so fearsome! If you scowl like that, no one will marry you!

His ears went hot and he sipped his tea to stave off any teasing. Blessedly, Lan Xichen took the hint.

“Of course,” he agreed, because he was a better nephew than Lan Qiren deserved, but his eyes were still going over Lan Qiren quizzically, a look he knew far too well. It was the same face he wore when he puzzled through a game of chess, or a painting, or a new piece of music, an inevitability that it would be solved.

Lan Qiren, for once, didn’t know what to say to dissuade him. Thankfully, a knock sounded before he could try and a young disciple bowed from the door. 

“Old Master Lan, Sect Leader Jiang and Young Master Jin are here to see you.”

He wanted to laugh, almost, because of course Jiang Cheng had wasted no time. A storm opened in that heart room, fluttering with lotus and peony petals, and he realized he was stroking his beard again. It went unnoticed by Lan Xichen this time, given he was politely excusing everyone away, and Lan Qiren could hear her laughing again, goading him on.

Lan-xiong, be brave!

“No,” he said over Lan Xichen and looked up at the disciple. “Let them in.”

“Shufu, you’re not dressed,” Lan Xichen argued immediately, the surprise on his face making his eyes wide and his voice a little high. 

“I am aware,” Lan Qiren said evenly and took a sip of tea just so he could set the cup down in a more final motion. “Leave us please, Xichen. Sect Leader Jiang and I have something to discuss.”

“Of… course, shufu,” Lan Xichen said, and his confusion made him look like a lost little boy. Lan Qiren ached immediately to pull him into his arms and guard him from the world, but the moment was gone quickly and Lan Xichen slipped past the door. 

The very air seemed to crackle with lightning as Jiang Cheng stepped inside, and even with a five year old on his hip, he looked imposing and handsome and all of Lan Qiren’s world tinted to a stormy purple.

“Old Master,” was his greeting, voice low and rough, but full of confidence, if only for the moment. 

“Sect leader,” Lan Qiren gave back, like he wasn’t in sleep clothes with his hair down, like this was just any other meeting between them and not the most important talk of his life. “Young Master Jin.”

“Old teacher!” Jin Ling wiggled to be put down and Jiang Cheng obliged him. The boy hurried over to Lan Qiren with what looked like a mess of paper in his hands, but was actually a folded paper dog that he handed over with happiness. “Are you feeling better? I made this for you. Jiu-jiu showed me how to do the folds!”

The offering was simple, but made him ache. He nodded seriously and took the little dog, setting it on the desk. “I am well, Young Master,” he promised and got a luminous smile for his words. “Thank you.”

“A-Ling, go play with your boat. Old Master Lan and I need to have a talk,” Jiang Cheng said, pulling the wooden toy from his sleeve. Jin Ling grinned and took it, then retreated to a spot near the go board. He might as well not have been there at all with how intensely Jiang Cheng was staring him down and it took all of Lan Qiren’s will not to shake as he poured the man a cup of tea.

It was silent and heavy as Jiang Cheng folded himself into the place Lan Xichen had been, and Lan Qiren felt his mind flicker back to golden days, even as his eyes were entranced by the vision of violet and silver before him. 

Cangse Sanren was as close to a first love as he’d ever gotten, and she had been his opposite in every way. Jiang Cheng, the one whose room in his heart knocked the loudest, was more like himself, strict and perfunct, bitter of the world and tethered only by the love of a nephew. He was a study of what was proper and expected of any sect leader, warrior, and ally. He was fierce and stalwart, a wall all bad things had to break down before anyone else was hurt.

Lan Qiren had been in awe of him a long time and let it show in his eyes as he set down the cup. He knew Jiang cheng expected words, expected an explanation, but like Jiang Cheng himself, he was not a man made of them. The only words he knew were rules, which were armor and guidance. But words from the heart? He might as well have been an illiterate fool.

The only consolation was that Jiang Cheng seemed to be having as much trouble as he. As the silence stretched on, he watched the irritation and embarrassment only grow as they both tried and failed to speak. Finally, Jiang Cheng simply swore under his breath, and though it broke a rule, it lit a fire in that room Jiang Cheng owned in his heart and made him laugh.

Like ice breaking, Jiang Cheng huffed a brief chuckle to join him and his shoulders slumped. “This is stupid,” he said, and Lan Qiren had to agree. “We talk all the time. We should be able to do this.”

Lan Qiren nodded and stroked his beard, a movement Jiang Cheng watched with dark eyes. “I do not speak plainly of what is in my heart, Sect Leader,” Lan Qiren said, and it was the bravest he’d ever been. The heat in his ears trickled down into his neck, plain for the man to see.

“Your heart?” Jiang Cheng echoed, incredulous, and he too looked like a lost child, hopeful and aching for things that were always ripped away. Lan Qiren felt the same instinct to hold him and guard him from the world he felt with his nephews. “That would imply that I am in your heart, Old Master.”

It was a challenge, and a plea. Lan Qiren looked down at his cup of tea and saw his own smile. “You are.”

Simple, could it really be that simple? He met Jiang Cheng’s eye and waited, watched a valiant struggle flicker in those eyes and over his expression. It settled on more of a scowl, in the end, but that was just armor too.

“You… too,” Jiang Cheng swallowed, fought the words out with all the same intensity he gave in every battle fought before, steadfast, yet ready to be struck down at any moment. “For me it’s the same.”

Jiang Cheng went tense afterwards, as though just hearing the words would make Lan Qiren reconsider. He was tempted, in truth, if only because it was so unusual, and that he did not wish for Jiang Cheng to be trapped by someone just like him, but even more unbending. Surely, Jiang Cheng deserved more? Surely this miracle was not meant to last?

Lan-xiong…

He closed his eyes and breathed, then took a sip of tea to settle his nerves. There were so many things he wished to say, but didn’t know how to. He had never been gifted in that way as Cangse Sanren had been. But then, neither was Jiang Cheng, and in that he found his answer.

Love through action, his only method. He prayed it would be enough.

“I expect a proper courtship,” he said sternly. “There are rules for this kind of thing and expect you to heed them all.”

Internally, he winced, because why did he sound like a chiding teacher? But for some reason, it seemed to settle well, and Jiang Cheng sat all the straighter, with an ease that had not been there before, and nodded once.

“So I will,” he promised and that part of Lan Qiren’s heart was utterly lost.

[wordsablaze]

To Be Loved

Love is a fickle thing, it can burst into life within minutes or it can take months to fully bloom. The one thing Jaskier and Eskel can always agree on is that it's more than worth the time it takes...

A/N: continues on from to be found but also works as a standalone, written for aro week <3

-

Their first date had gone well, all things considered.

Eskel had been a little sleep deprived on account of working until late and worrying until even later but Jaskier hadn’t seemed to mind at all, bursting with enough enthusiasm for the both of them.

He’d been waiting outside the bakery at six, scrolling through his phone and looking up just as Eskel was debating whether he should just sneak back inside. Jaskier had grinned widely and Eskel had immediately known it was going to be a good evening.

“You look like you have a lemon stuck in your mouth,” Lambert tells him as he walks into work a week later.

“And how would you know what that looks like?” Eskel grumbles.

To be honest, he’s felt like he has a lemon stuck in his mouth since last weekend because Jaskier had promptly disappeared off the face of the earth. He wants to think it’s just a coincidence but he can’t help feeling as though it’s another case of the whole Eskel isn't good at first dates so of course it wouldn’t work out thing again.

Lambert raises his hands in surrender and gestures to the kitchens, where everyone is allowed to work in peace when they’re not in the right mindset for actual interaction. He zones out immediately, only looking up when Coen pokes his head in the doorframe.

“We might need your help with this guy,” he says, and Eskel sighs, already expecting a problematic customer or something.

What he’s not expecting is Jaskier tapping his foot on the floor and biting his lip. He freezes when he sees Eskel, opening his mouth to say something, but Eskel holds up a hand. “Can you come through to the back? I don’t want to have this conversation here.”

In the few minutes it takes for them to reach the office, he’s decided he’s more than ready for Jaskier to admit his spontaneous flirting was just a whim and he's not interested in anything else. Only, Jaskier does nothing of the sort.

“Eskel, I am so sorry about disappearing! I didn’t mean to, I swear! It’s just that Shani’s place flooded so she broke her ankle and I had to drive her to the hospital but we were arguing on the way and this guy at a red light decided I’d hurt her as if I wouldn’t rather die but we ended up fighting and I ended up with a concussion again and we both had to stay for observation or something and I- I’m really sorry for leaving you hanging,” Jaskier blurts.

Eskel blinks.

“Is she okay?” he asks, not really sure what he’s meant to be focusing on.

Jaskier nods, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a slow exhale. “She went to medical school, she knew exactly what they were going to do before we even got in the car.”

“That’s useful,” Eskel replies, but then shakes his head. “Wait, are you okay? Someone gave you a concussion?”

He’d been amused last time Jaskier had downplayed concussions but now he’s seriously wondering if he should be concerned about how the other man can be so unfazed by so much - it’s not like you can develop an immunity to head trauma.

Jaskier just nods again. “Of course, I’m fine. I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression?”

“Not at all,” Eskel lies.

There are arms around him before he can try and figure out whether Jaskier had seen through his lie. He stumbles slightly but allows the embrace to happen, oddly comforted by the fact that Jaskier is just as relieved to have explained the truth as Eskel is; maybe this time things truly can work out, he thinks.

.

“You really don’t have to go tonight,” Jaskier says for the fourth time that day.

Eskel sighs, throwing a cushion at him. “It’s been three months since we met, I think it’s about time I see you perform.”

Jaskier hums before flopping onto the small sofa, resting his head on Eskel’s lap with the rest of his body draped lengthwise, his feet dangling off the armrest at the end. “But I know you don’t like loud or crowded spaces and we aim to have exactly that,” he pouts.

There’s a long moment in which Eskel just appreciates that he’s not being forced to go despite how bizarre it is to experience the exact opposite situation. He smiles down at Jaskier and very truthfully says, “It won’t matter because I like you.”

He places a finger on Jaskier’s lips when he tries to argue again, chuckling. “And before you ask me again if I’m sure, don’t.”

Jaskier’s eyes practically sparkle for a moment before he twists his head and bites Eskel’s finger, nowhere near hard enough to hurt but firmly enough for it to be a shock.

Rolling his eyes, Eskel laughs. “What, my baking isn’t enough for you anymore?”

Starting to reply only to realise that he can’t form actual words whilst biting down on an index finger, Jaskier pulls Eskel’s hand away and grins. “Dessert is fine, darling, but you’re a five-course meal and I wouldn’t trade all the oven goodies in the world for you.”

Eskel has no idea how to reply to that.

It’s far more romantic than anything he’s used to and he’s never been good at flirting so the last thing he wants to do is say something that ruins whatever they have going on. After a long moment of panic, he settles on shrugging. “We have a pretty good oven.”

Jaskier hums in reply and thankfully doesn’t press on his hesitation, sitting upright with a small sigh. “I suppose I should go get dressed. Are you driving?”

“I don’t trust you with my car,��� Eskel says, only half joking.

“I’ll be wearing those heeled boots then,” Jaskier grins, taking absolutely no offence as he springs to his feet and blows a kiss before heading to Eskel’s bathroom, where he’d dumped his change of clothes when arriving earlier and declared it was his domain for the rest of the day.

If anyone had told the Eskel of a few years ago that he’d willingly allow someone so chaotic to saunter around his home and genuinely flirt with him in every other conversation, he’d probably have rolled his eyes and assumed they’d somehow mistaken him for someone else; maybe changing his mindset has been for the better, he thinks.

.

The ocean has no right to be so elegant.

Eskel had never been a huge fan of beaches because the stubbornness of sand is quite frankly sinful but Jaskier absolutely adores everything about them and there’s only so many of his puppy dog eyes that can be refused.

“We’ll barely even touch the sand, I promise!” Jaskier had declared, and he’d made sure of it too.

Soon enough, they’re settled on the rocky side of the beach, propped up against a larger stone with their legs stretched out in front of them and their shoulders pressed together. Jaskier slips his fingers into Eskel’s and gently squeezes, which has quickly become one of Eskel’s favourite things ever.

“Aren’t the waves gorgeous?” Jaskier asks wistfully.

Eskel hums. “They can still kill you.”

Jaskier laughs, nudging him. “Ever the optimist, aren’t you? Nothing can kill me, darling, not today.”

Well, he can’t really argue with that because he feels the exact same way. It’s hard to think of anything morbid when celebrating six months together and he doesn’t particularly want to try so he just nods in agreement.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispers after a while.

Eskel turns to him, tilting his head to one side. “No, you were right, it is soothing to watch the waves.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Jaskier lifts their connected hands and places a soft kiss on Eskel’s thumb before looking directly at him with an even softer smile. “Thank you for letting me stay for so long.”

He says that as if Eskel isn’t in disbelief about someone being willing to stay with him for so long, especially someone like Jaskier who could probably charm his way into the lives of anyone he pleases.

“I should be saying that to you,” Eskel admits, “I know I’m not exactly the best partner out there.”

Jaskier genuinely looks offended. He uses his free hand to poke Eskel’s stomach and glares at him. “Don’t say things like that, you are possibly the kindest and most patient person I know, not to mention the most handsome.”

Eskel’s face heats up at that and even though he knows he tries to be kind and patient, he can’t help wishing he could be more, that he could be charming and fun and worthy of the poetry Jaskier keeps texting to him whenever he’s drunk.

“Hey, look at me?” Jaskier asks.

Eskel’s head moves before he gives it permission but he has no regrets because Jaskier is smiling and he’s grown overly fond of that stupid smile and the way it manages to make him feel a little better every time it’s directed towards him.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispers.

Oh.

His expression must give his alarm away because Jaskier squeezes his hand again and shuffles so he’s leaning his head on Eskel’s shoulder, looking out at the ocean. “You don’t have to say it back but I couldn’t possibly have gone another day without telling you. And it doesn’t matter, you’re still the best.”

Jaskier falls in love with someone or something new every other day but they’ve both been hesitant to acknowledge his unwavering commitment to loving Eskel until now. Eskel exhales slowly, letting his head rest stop Jaskier’s and closing his eyes.

His first instinct is to apologise but he’s almost certain Jaskier would throw him into the ocean if he did so he settles for squeezing Jaskier’s hand and shuffling even closer, focusing on the way they fit together so well, on the way everything they do together is comfortable, on the way he doesn’t feel pressured to pretend.

He’s always been a little scared of actually finding the love he usually only hears about through everyone else in fear of somehow failing at it but Jaskier has never demanded anything he wasn’t happy to give; maybe love isn’t so frightening with the right people, he thinks.

.

“Jaskier, where’s my hoodie?” Eskel asks, frowning at his wardrobe.

He knows Jaskier sometimes borrows his clothes but he’s not sure how to take that since he seems to do that with literally everyone he knows, whether that’s his bandmates, random people he meets at bars, or even Ciri on a few memorable, drunk occasions.

“Which one?” Jaskier calls back from the kitchen where he’d gone to find popcorn because he refuses to watch a film without some.

Eskel sighs. “The red one with the flowers.”

“Roses!” Jaskier corrects, and Eskel just knows he’s shaking his head in exasperation. “And I don’t know!”

After a moment of frustration, Eskel shrugs on the other red hoodie and makes his way to the kitchen, groaning when he sees Jaskier wearing the not so missing hoodie. Jaskier’s eyes widen at the sound and he spins on his heel to check the microwave as if having expected it to be exploding.

“I thought you said you didn’t know?” Eskel asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier only frowns. “I don’t?”

It takes him a minute to catch on and finally glance down at himself, at which point he bites his lip and looks up again sheepishly. “I just grabbed a random one,” he mumbles eventually.

Eskel rolls his eyes because it’s not the first time they’ve had this type of conversation and makes his way over, using his thumb to gently pull Jaskier’s lip out from under his teeth before very softly kissing him. “Blue suits you better,” he whispers.

Jaskier nods, still wide-eyed and a little breathless as he lifts his arms and loops them around Eskel’s neck. “But red reminds me of you,” he whispers back, his gaze flickering between Eskel’s eyes and lips.

Well, there goes Eskel’s heart melting again.

The microwave beeps at them before he figures out how to reply, both of them jumping enough for their foreheads to crash together. Jaskier curses immediately, stepping back as he rubs his head and glares at the microwave as if it’d just stabbed him.

“Hope the popcorn is worth the pain,” Eskel says, laughing.

Jaskier sticks his tongue out before pulling the popcorn out, pouring it into a bowl and handing said bowl to Eskel as he has the steadier hand and is far less likely to spill it all before they even sit down, which they’d unfortunately had to learn from experience.

“Don’t doubt me, darling, you are going to love this film!” Jaskier declares just as he always does - he’s only right about half the time but Eskel has to credit him for the everlasting confidence at least.

It doesn’t take them long to settle, Jaskier leaning heavily on Eskel and their arms wrapped around each other, and although Eskel is about ninety percent certain he won’t like the film judging by the cover, he wouldn’t dare interrupt Jaskier’s mission to broaden his cinematic horizons or whatever.

“You are unfairly comfortable,” Jaskier mumbles, practically burrowing into his chest.

Eskel laughs, snuggling closer himself. “You have very strange standards.”

Jaskier hums quietly, choosing popcorn over replying to the accusation just as the film finally starts with a rather cliché shot of the view from a window. He was right in thinking he wouldn’t particularly like it but Jaskier’s constant commentary has both of them laughing and it’s worth the watch anyway; maybe being with someone else makes the boring things less boring, he thinks.

.

Weird how a year can feel like forever as well as no time at all.

Eskel wakes up on the morning after their first anniversary with a slow smile, taking in the way Jaskier is sprawled over him like some sort of misguided blanket.

Perhaps it’s just Jaskier’s poetic influence over the past year but he thinks it’s utterly fitting that sunlight just so happens to be falling over the two of them in a way that makes it seem as though they’re glowing even though it’s still winter.

It’s a good thing Jaskier sleeps like the dead when he actually manages to fall asleep for a normal human amount of time because it gives Eskel the chance to do things like bring them breakfast in bed. This one he’s been planning for a while so he doesn’t waste any time gazing and quickly slips out of bed, getting himself sorted and making his way to the kitchen.

He more or less makes the pancakes with muscle memory alone because there’s a part of him that can’t help worrying. He knows Jaskier loves him, he knows that better than he knows most things, but he’s never had a relationship this long and he doesn’t know the right etiquette to all of this.

“Eskel?”

Cursing inwardly, he grabs the tray - complete with a plate of four pancakes, two mugs of coffee, and one small envelope - and heads back to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway. “Right here,” he smiles.

Jaskier returns the smile, then yawns before raising his eyebrows at the sight of the tray. “We already had anniversary breakfast yesterday?”

“Are you saying you don’t want the pancakes?” Eskel asks, smirking when Jaskier sits up with a grin that makes his answer perfectly clear. “Thought so.”

“Mhm, you’re the best boyfriend in the galaxy,” Jaskier says as Eskel places the tray at the foot of the bed and settles beside him.

Eskel is more than aware his face has probably gone embarrassingly red but for once, Jaskier doesn’t point it out, instead getting distracted by and picking up the little envelope with a frown. “What’s this?”

Deep breath.

“Can I open it now?” Jaskier asks, thankfully able to guess that Eskel’s throat has gone a little too dry for him to explain.

When he nods, Jaskier offers him a smile and rips one side open, gasping when he sees what’s inside: a key. Or more specifically, a replica of Eskel’s house key.

“I love you,” Eskel says honestly.

It’d taken him a while to get things sorted in his head - not to mention several awkward conversations with his family and friends - but at this point, he’s absolutely certain he loves Jaskier and nothing can make him question his heart in the slightest.

Jaskier sniffles and throws his arms around Eskel before he can apologise for making him cry. And Eskel laughs, holding his boyfriend whom he truly genuinely loves because he is capable of that after all close until they’re both satisfied they’re not going to actually burst into tears or anything.

“I love you back, of course,” Jaskier says as he pulls back, rubbing his eyes.

Eskel grins, ignoring the way it almost physically hurts his face, and only grins further when Jaskier kisses him despite both of them being a little too smiley for it to really work.

“I can’t believe you made me cry before pancakes,” Jaskier grumbles eventually, elbowing him, but he’s still half-grinning and there’s a lot of mixed signals.

Laughing, Eskel brushes his thumbs under Jaskier’s eyes. “The pancakes aren’t going anywhere.”

Jaskier hums in acknowledgement and twirls the key between his fingers for a long moment, apparently thinking something over. “You are aware this means you’re never going to get a moment of peace again, right?” he asks.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” Eskel replies even though he’s never felt more at peace than when he’s with Jaskier.

“On your head be it, darling,” Jaskier laughs, shuffling so he can curl into Eskel’s arms again, “I love you so much.”

Eskel’s reply is swallowed by the lump in his throat but it’s okay because Jaskier knows and he knows Jaskier knows and that’s more than enough. Their breakfast will probably go cold before they get round to it but neither of them will mind because everything else is just so perfect; maybe love is just being patient with the differences, Eskel thinks.

-

ik this is fairly niche so it's unlikely many ppl will be reading but just in case: this fic was not meant to reflect aromanticism as a whole - sometimes you just don't aim for love and that's totally valid !! this was just a lil ventfic,,

ongoing masterlist for this au if you’re interested :)

-

thanks for reading !! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier​

[issamhysa]

Énouement

Pairing: Will Graham x Reader

Summary: After the fall, Will believed he would never recover. Time proves him wrong.

Warnings: Rowdy girls, fluffy situations, dad Will Graham, and obviously, SPOILERS!

A/N: Ah, hyperfixation.

Five years. It had been five years since Will left his old life behind. The FBI, Jack Crawford, and Hannibal Lecter were now but fleeting memories he no longer acknowledged. Memories he swore he would never allow to hurt him again.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. And you.

He knew you trusted him enough to believe him. You had known Will when he found himself at his lowest point. Back when he was in therapy with Hannibal Lecter, coming to you at three in the morning after a nightmare and forcing himself to strain his empathic abilities for the sake of Jack Crawford. You knew about the atrocious acts Hannibal coerced Will into doing. You knew about Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Randall Tier, and Francis Dolarhyde. You knew about what had happened between him and Alana, and you knew about Margot and Mason. He had told you everything.

And despite it all, the nurses and doctors told him you refused to leave his side when they found him after the fall.

The two of you had only been going out casually back at the time, although, later into the relationship, you confessed you weren’t sure if Will loved you as you did him. It took months of recovery with you by his side for him to finally come around and admit how he truly felt about you. 

You and Will decided to leave Wolf Trap. He left everything, took the dogs and moved as far away from his haunted past as he could. Months later, he married you in Switzerland.

It wasn't a big wedding, it didn’t need to be. Your wedding consisted of a few of your closest family members, Alana Bloom, Margot Verger, and their son, Morgan. They were the only people Will allowed back into his life after everything had happened, and so they became part of your little family.

You and Will had never planned on having children. Of course, you talked about it and you both agreed that it could be something you would both want eventually. But after seeing how Will interacted with Alana's son Morgan, you did find yourself wanting to see Will interact with a child of his own. A couple of years later, you had two beautiful girls.

Now, Will found himself sitting outside in the backyard on an embroidered quilt with your head on his lap and your feet flat against the soft green grass. The sun shone brightly upon the both of you, and Will inhaled the fresh air before exhaling in a contented sigh. His toes dug into the dirt under his feet, and his hands worked on slowly feeding you wild strawberries he and the girls had picked in the morning. Will watched you turn your head away from the kalimba between your hands and towards the woods. Upon seeing the smile on your face, his eyes turned to gaze at the sight before him. The smile that spread through his lips was a prideful one.

The oldest of your daughters, Thora, was chasing the little one, Cashmere, all over the edge of the woods, a toad held between her delicate little hands. Their favorite sundresses were stained with mud at the bottom, as were their bare feet. Wildflowers, twigs, and green leaves decorated their wild curly hair, courtesy of Will’s own genes. Their eyes were bright as they ran around, screaming and giggling in pure joy. Will's dogs chased after them, tails wagging faster than Will had ever seen them wag. They barked at the running girls, who paused to pet them with muddied hands. Ever so loyal, Winston sat by Will, watching over the girls as they ran around and played. Will scratched behind his ear gently, causing Winston’s paw to thump almost rhythmically against the dirt.

Never in a million years did Will Graham imagine this is how his life would turn out.

Will couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the thought before turning to look down at you. He found you smiling up at him, and for a second, Will was awestruck. Your smile was one of the things he loved most about you. Something that never failed to make him stop and wonder how the hell he got so lucky to have you. 

He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. As usual, your lips tasted of the sweetness he became addicted to from the moment you shared your first kiss on that stormy night in Wolf Trap. Reluctantly, he pulled away, his thumb gently brushing a fleck of dirt off your cheek. 

The girls returned to the two of you, panting and grinning and holding something behind their backs. They shared a look and brought their hands forward, holding two daisy chains. 

“What’s this?” You asked, setting your kalimba down and sitting up straight to look at the girls, who giggled with glee and plopped a daisy chain on his head and yours.

“Flower crowns! One for mommy, and one for daddy! Now, you can be the king and the queen of our kingdom! Right, Mere?” 

“Uh-huh! King and queen!” The little one nodded her head wildly, her little cheeks flushed from exertion.

You smiled, “Thank you, little loves. These are beautiful crowns, aren’t they, Will?” You looked at him, the flower crown sitting at an angle on your head.

Will’s smile softened as he cupped his daughters' cheeks, leaving soft kisses on their foreheads. “Fit for a king and a queen. Thank you, my little princesses,” he answered, gently tucking a strand of hair away from Cashmere's little face.

“Now,” you spoke up. “Go wash up, it’s almost time for dinner, and we’re making your favorite tonight, Thora.” 

The girls lit up, bouncing on their heels, and clapping their hands together. Cashmere even started spinning around, which rendered her a little dizzy, as she stumbled for a second. Will had to reach out and grab her to keep her from falling.

“It’s spaghetti night!” Thora cheered, her blue eyes wide. “Wait, can we have dessert tonight, too?”

“Dessert! Dessert!” Cashmere squealed, hearing her sister’s question and looking at you expectantly.

“Hmm, well, I do have a black forest cake sitting in the kitchen! You best wash up before Winston finds it and gobbles it up!”

While Winston tilted his head in confusion at the mention of his name, the girls squealed with delight, and after taking Cashmere’s little hand in her own, Thora bolted towards the shore to wash the mud off her hands and feet.

He was lucky, oh so lucky to have ended up with you and his gorgeous girls. They had your curiosity, your stubbornness, but they had his wit and cleverness. They were perfect, and Will had you to thank for that.

Will wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and connecting his lips to yours. He almost shivered when your arms wrapped themselves around his neck to deepen the kiss. After the two of you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his and nudged his nose with yours, making him chuckle.

“I love you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me my life back,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.

You smiled in return, brushing a curl away from his eyes and holding a hand under his chin. “You did that yourself, Will. But I love you, too, and I’m glad I was here to help.”

As the two of you pulled apart, Thora and Cashmere bounded back towards the both of you. You grabbed Cashmere and tugged her onto your lap, and Will wrapped his arms tight around Thora, tickling her and reveling in the sound of her sweet laughter. Next to him, you were peppering Cashmere’s face with kisses, causing her to squeal and laugh as well.

At that moment, Will suddenly wished he could go back in time. He wished he could look down on his old self and tell him that everything he’d go through, all the pain he’d be forced to endure would lead him to the woman of his dreams, to two beautiful girls that made him feel as though the world was brighter than it had ever been. 

To the life he had never expected he would have, but would never let go of.

[amaltheaz]

but i know something's starting right now

length: 1,403 words

rating: general

ship: kara danvers/lena luthor

summary: the past few weeks have been a whirlwind in Princess Lena’s life, and if she had to think about it, it all started after she survived an unforgiving storm over a relentless sea.

---

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind in Princess Lena’s life, and if she had to think about it, it all started after she survived an unforgiving storm over a relentless sea.

There's not much that she remembers from that particular day past from the moment rumbles of thunder and the crack of lightning began, to saving her beloved dog, Max, from the burning ship. There’s not much else she remembers, except perhaps, for that voice. The voice that could only have belonged to a siren, beautiful and haunting. The very same voice that’s been lingering in her dreams and invading her thoughts ever since that day.

Her life really hasn’t been the same since that day.

When she tried explaining it to her trusted advisor, Jack told her simply that she had been mistaken, that she was probably hallucinating after being so close to death, that there had been nobody else around but Lena, washed up on the shore with her clothes tattered by the ordeal. But it was real, she knew that it was. She might have been groggy, dazed and confused when she first opened her eyes but there was no mistaking what she felt as she slowly came to consciousness, fingers gently almost reverently trailing down her cheek.

Lena is nothing but stubborn and completely bullheaded when fueled by the insatiable need to prove that she’s right. And if she can rub it in Jack’s face afterwards, all the better.

Day after day, she went back to the beach, to the very same spot where Jack found her, in the hopes that she would find the owner of that voice. To no luck. As the week ended and another followed, Lena had been close to giving up. She couldn't just spend the rest of her days searching for a ghost when her kingdom needed her to look after them.

But all was not lost on one fine day.

Blue eyes struck her still to the ground when their gazes met once Lena managed to calm Max down from bothering the stranger. As blue as the deep, fathomless ocean that has called to Lena ever since she was a little girl and she felt as equally drawn to this strange woman as she does the sea. There was just… something about her that felt warm and—familiar. Lena had thought that maybe she finally found her hero, the one that saved her from drowning to the bottom of the ocean along with the shipwreck. But when no sound came once she opened her mouth, Lena's hopes were dashed once again.

Still, it seemed like the woman had nowhere else to go, what with the ripped sheets that were clearly taken from the billowy sails of a ship, tied around her body. Lena felt compelled to bring her back to the castle, to take care of her, to protect her. She didn't know why, just that she felt a burning need to do so.

And though she can't talk, she is certainly the most curious person Lena has ever met, her face the most expressive out of anyone Lena has ever known. So earnest and genuine in the way that she smiles so easily at everybody she meets, immediately brightening their day. And she isn't the only one. Though Jack has been reticent at first, Lena has never seen him nor the rest of her royal staff seem so animated or so enamoured with anybody, not even with the young princesses that travelled from far and wide to seek her hand in marriage. Her very affable presence made Lena realize how truly lonely she has been since she lost her family so many years ago, and Lena doesn't know what she is to do if she ever loses her.

Without even uttering a single word, this woman brought the castle and all who live in it, especially Lena, back to life.

In those first few days that she stayed with them, Lena couldn't help but notice her guest’s eccentricities, the way she acts like she has never seen most of the things that Lena had shown her. How things just seem so new to her. Lena had already assumed that she’s a stranger to the kingdom itself but it almost seems like everything is a stranger to her. It had been simply endearing to witness.

Hence why Lena has taken it upon herself to take her on a tour around the kingdom and the surrounding lands. And since then, she has learned quite a few more things about her friend, some of which were:

She has an unbridled enthusiasm for new experiences and a clear desire to learn… everything. Something that Lena herself knows a thing or two about.

She doesn't seem to be a fan of the seafood that the staff brings her to eat, always opting to eat other meats they have to offer.

She has… an odd fascination with her feet, often looking down at them as if they're completely brand new to her.

She has a keen love of music, always wanting to stop whenever they pass a musician or a band of them.

It came to no surprise then, that once Lena taught her how to, she makes for a graceful dancer.

She also makes for a terrible and dangerous driver. Never again will Lena offer her the reins to the horses. Lesson learned.

This late afternoon, they're getting on a small boat in a secluded lagoon now. It's one of Lena’s favorite spots throughout the kingdom and she wanted to share it with her friend. Somehow, Lena had a gut feeling that she would enjoy seeing the sunset. Lena’s heart flutters at the giddy smile that beams her way as she starts to row them forwards.

It won't be too long until the sun begins its descent into the horizon.

Once they're a good enough distance from the embankment, Lena takes her hands off the oars, allowing their boat to simply drift. It's not a terribly large body of water and she has been here so many times before that Lena isn't too concerned about losing her sense of direction.

She takes a moment to watch her friend, watches as her blue eyes hungrily take in their surroundings, seeming to giggle happily at the line of ducks following the trajectory of their boat. Lena watches her dip long, graceful fingers into the water, trailing delicately over the surface. There's a wistful, almost sorrowful expression on her face that disappears as quickly as it comes. Lena doesn't know what it was that might have caused her friend such pain but she has seen it occasionally enough to know that she doesn't like it at all. So she decides to attempt a distraction.

“You know,” she starts, waiting for those blue eyes to look back up at her, “we’ve been spending all of this time together and I—wow, this is kind of embarrassing. I don't even know your name?” She laughs though she catches a spark of interest then, a whisper of a smile that encourages Lena to continue. “I’m not really good with names but I can try guessing?” She waits for a nod. “Okay, how about um… Veronica?”

She barks out a laugh at the look of utter disgust on her new friend's face. “Okay, not Veronica. How about… Andrea?” she asks, receiving a thoughtful look and then a shake of a head in response. “This is going to be more difficult than I thought. Hmmm… Sam?”

“Kara. Her name is Kara.”

Lena doesn't even think to question who might have whispered that, especially when there is literally nobody else there. Something just feels right about that name though,,. “Kara?” she voices, quiet and unsure when the smile on her friend’s face brightens as she nods. “Kara?” she asks once again, a little more confident when the nod becomes more fervent. An ache twists in her chest at how her friend’s happy smile turns into something so beguiling and absolutely breathtaking. She takes in a deep breath. “Okay… Kara,” she whispers softly. An unknown impulse drives her to grab hold of Kara’s hand with her own, her heart pounding in her chest when Kara laces their fingers together.

She doesn't notice the sun beginning to set, or the direction that their boat is taking or the faint, whispering sounds of nature around them.

Lena’s world simply narrows to the deep, fathomless blue of Kara’s eyes staring intently back at her.

[metalheadcowboy]

Anyways Ferris Bueller’s Day off AU teaser lol

-------------------------

The second Steve heard the phone ringing he knew just who it was.

Billy Hargrove.

His best friend since elementary school. Of course that would be the only guy to call him when he’s home sick on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. He half thought about not answering, letting the phone ring out and going back to bed, but he knew that if he did that, not a second later another call would be coming after that, then another after that, then another after that. So, truly, he had no choice.

Steve slowly reached a hand out from under his mountain of blankets to put the call through to speaker, the cool air sending a sharp shiver through his body.

“Hello?” his voice was groggy and deep, you could tell just from the single word that he was sick as a dog.

“Stevie, babe, what’s happenin’?” In Steve’s opinion Billy sounded as great as ever, not a hint of sore throat or stuffy nose in his voice. Most likely he was perfectly fine, lucky him. He, honestly, wasn’t surprised. This was Billy’s ninth sick day, most of which he wasn’t actually sick for.

“Very little.”

“How do you feel?” Billy sounded serious and Steve couldn’t understand how. Hell, was that even a question at this point, they had known each other for upwards of seven years and the guy couldn’t tell when he was sick?

“Shredded.” The word sounded harsh, but felt about right.

“’S your mother in her room?”

“She’s in Decatur, unfortunately she’s not staying.” Steve made sure to put emphasis on the unfortunate part, “Where are you?” He finally opened his eyes and turned his head to the side, his own curiosity taking over.

“I’m takin’ the day off, now get dressed and come on over.” Billy made it sound just that easy. He hated it.

“Can’t stupid, I’m sick,” Unlike you, he wanted to add, but didn’t have the energy to be a smart ass.

“Ugh, that’s all in your head, c’mon over.”

“I feel like complete shit, Billy. I can’t go anywhere.” Billy had always been stubborn and now was no exception.

“I’m sorry to hear that, now come on over here and pick me up.” With that the line went dead before Steve even got to get another word in. 

He reached over and turned off speaker phone the dull endless ringing of the dead line giving him a headache. But not as big of a headache as Billy was giving him. Wanting him to come over when he was sick, just who the hell did he think he was? The president or some shit? No.

Before he knew it the phone was ringing again and he was reaching over to answer it. He really wished he could grow a pair, at least one big enough to stop him from even answering and going back to sleep instead. 

“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do.” And maybe Billy was partially right. He couldn’t think of anything better to do then lie in bed throwing himself a pity party. 

The line went dead again and Steve pressed his finger harshly into the button that took it off speaker. 

“When Stevie was in Egypt’s land,” Steve sang roughly to himself, “Let my Stevie gooo.”

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 17- Goddess

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 5586

Warnings: Slight mature content, nothing major

AN: Ya’ll have no idea how much I love this GIF of Ivar. His eye roll is literally what I imagine him doing all the time.

16- Free

...

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Steady your stance.

Pull the string.

Release the arrow.

It was a lot harder than Artemis anticipated.

She missed her target, a small, dark rabbit that fled the moment the arrow pierced into the damp earth beside it.

She sucks her teeth.

"Mm, that was better, but you still lack the patience." Ivar says to her with a chuckle. To him it was second nature, but watching Artemis with a bow was like watching a babe attempting to walk.

He sat as comfortably as he could on a chair brought by one of his many other thralls, and he watched as Artemis lowered her bow in defeat. It amused him to see her strive for perfection. It reminded him of himself when he was a child and still learning the ways of archery.

At his heels were his obedient elkhounds brought with him from Norway, eager to run wild and hunt even in the early summer heat. They were the same ones Ivar threatened her with, but that was neither here nor there.

He held one of them tightly in place with a leather strap, the other 3 pulling hard against a male thralls grip. They were beautiful things, large, with cream and black fur and large dark eyes. The hounds were adorable at first glance, but they were fierce, destroying anything in their path with ease if Ivar commanded them to.

Ivar snapped his fingers, and the wolf like dogs immediately ceased their whinning, staring up at their master with expecting eyes.

"Go." He commands, both he and the thrall letting go of the leather, the hounds instantly fled into the trees. All 4 returned with a dead rabbit in its mouth in a matter of minutes, surrounding their masters feet.

"Your hounds are show offs." Artemis pouts while Ivar grins, giving his beasts meat treats as the thrall collects the rabbits.

"Who else is to provide our dinner if you can't manage to shoot anything?" He says with a tired chuckle. His features betrayed him, revealing his discomfort from the usual pain that inflicted him daily, but it passed just as quickly as it came. He extended his arm out, palm open as an invitation for Artemis to hand over the bow.

Once securely in his hand, Ivar places his crutch to the side. He looks about slowly, listening to the sounds of the forest with his blue eyes closed and his lashes dusting over his cheekbones. Moments like these were the ones that Artemis admired the most, quickly scanning her eyes over him.

Ivar was no master of blades, but he was extremely skilled with a bow, and he almost never missed his target, Artemis had witnessed it many times when he use to train with his brothers.

Suddenly his piercing eyes fluttered open, and he silently motioned for Artemis to hand him an arrow from her quiver.

"Wha-"

"Shh."

He quickly reprimands her, putting a finger over his lips before placing the arrow in its place and stretching back the bow string as far as he could, aiming the sharp arrow towards the bright green tree tops. He stared up toward the skies for a moment in comfortable silence. Artemis would have spoken again if it weren't for the whizzing of the arrow soaring through the air at a raging velocity.

The tree tops shook a bit, and a squeal emitted from its depths before a dark shadow descended from above, falling at the foot of the large tree trunk. How Ivar had the ability to shoot down a squirrel from such a distance was beyond her, but most impressive nonetheless.

"Did you not mention your patron goddess was a huntress?" He asks with a smirk, and Artemis rolls her eyes with a snort.

"I am named after a goddess, but it does not mean I am one." Ivar shrugs, handing her back the bow.

"I like to think you are." He says, turning his blue gaze towards the familiar brown.

Artemis blinks, only able to conjure up a shy smile as she felt her cheeks burn. A strange feeling began to flutter in her lower abdomine. It was a strange feeling indeed, but she liked it, the fluttering intensifying when he bites his lips in apprehension.

"And what have you done to elicit such flattery from my brother?" Both too distracted with each other, they failed to noticed Hvitserk watching their scene, smirking at them in the way all the brother's

It was borderline infuriating.

"Shut up, Hvitserk." Ivar says with a growl, far less malicious than he wanted. He watches his hounds charge from sniffing at the green pastures to leaping towards his older brother in excitement.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Hvitserk laughs, trying to individually caress eat dog that pounced up his legs, "But the bishop has come to a decision. He wishes to speak with you."

Ivar hums nodding his head as he grabs his crutch, "Very well. Perhaps we shall gain a warrior on our side."

"Why do you wish for the bishop to fight for you?" Artemis asks quietly, cocking her head to the side in curiosity, "I thought you hated Christian's?"

"I thought so too." Hvitserk agrees, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"I suppose there are a few that aren't so bad." Ivar speaks just as quietly, his penetrating gaze lingering on her for another moment before motioning with his hands for the party to head back into the city.

...

The bishop, after being humiliated in the streets of York by the foreigners, proved himself, killing a taunting man before Ivar's very eyes and swearing allegiance to him. To sink a knife into another man's flesh and ending his life was enough to ignite Ivar, it could be seen in the way his eyes glowed.

Plans were set in motion once again, this time with King Harald Finehair, who had been a head strong ally with them thus far. The viking settlement in York would be overseen by one of Ivar's men now that the king of Northumbria was eliminated and the kingdom of Wessex weakend tremendously. Many who came with the Ragnarson's decided to stay in the Yorkish settlement, and that included Arvid and Alfhild. Artemis didn't know whether it was their decision or Ivar's, but she supposed it was for the best.

Alfhild was pregnant, perhaps a sign of their gods that their growing family should remain on English soil until their call back to Kattegat would come.

She was excited as any future mother would, rubbing her still flat belly in affection for her child to be. Arvid was pleased, though not as much as a man who truly loves his wife. There was a pride in knowing that a man could impregnate his woman, but if he could not love her, then what was the point? Arranged marriages usually ended in this way, loveless and disconnected, but it was clear Alfhild held much love for her husband who was as stubborn as mule. Arvid was a good man, but like most men, he failed in the arts of love.

The news spread rather quickly: Ivar the Boneless's slave was a woman whose life was now her own to command.

A few men saw it as an advantage to steer their eyes away from their duties. Admirers would visit to forge for idle talk, much to Artemis's annoyance, and Arvid's. Usually he'd send them away with a mouthful of curses.

Ivar remained good spirited. The leader of the largest army known to man spent whatever free time he had giving her archery lessons on days where he had the most time to spare. Normally any great leader would strain their minds on more pressing matters, but Ivar always seemed to make the time for her. She never asked for it, but she was starting to enjoy him company.

Artemis supposed life was bearable, for now. Ivar treated her well as he said he would, with a decent space in the church of her own, and she had access to as much food as she could want. After supper, she'd collect as much as she could, offering bread and fruit to the other thralls who were in far worse conditions than she’d ever been. It was the least she could do.

She spends her days in the forge with the other smith's, repairing weapons and restoring the ships, replacing the large iron nails holding the thick wood together. Her nights were held under candle light, mending and creating new chainmail.

Sometimes, her mind wandered off to her father, and whenever it did, she'd have to pause to gather herself before she could burst into tears.

The only thing she could hope for was for the dreadful weather to clear.

...

The weather never did clear.

The rains of York bombarded them. Each day the clouds grew darker and closer, bringing with them the harsh rains that soaked them to the bone. It worried some if they were to travel in a few days time in such conditions, but the men worked through it, preparing their supplies for their journey back to the north.

Ivar managed to crack the iron on the side of his brace, and Artemis spent her morning welding the split metal back together. After wiping her hands on a wet cloth, she quickly puts her cloak on with the hood over her face, running through the showers and into the church.

Inside was mostly vacant, save for a few guards that roamed about with ale in their hands as their pass time. Their eyes lingered on her for a moment, but she learned to ignore it.

The bishop sat alone with a dreary look on his face as he was clearly annoyed with the intoxicated guards. He was seated among the many rows of benches placed within, his chained hands set atop the wooden table top with a plate in between of bread and cheese.

He greets her with a nod of his head. His dirty hands worked to rip apart bread, popping them in his mouth and chewing the pieces unbecomingly. She returns the greeting, quickly making her way to Ivar's chamber.

"You will not like what you see." The bishop's smile was hidden behind a crust of bread. Her obvious confusion amused him.

"What?"

Heahmund chuckles in the way that older men do, deep and guttural. He shakes his head, ripping another piece of bread.

"I've heard many rumors of the boneless leader and his...condition," He begins, watching Artemis's mouth twitch at the corners, "Well, nevermind. I suppose you will see soon enough." Annoyed with his chatter, she stomps over to the chamber, finding the door slightly ajar.

She hesitates, before stepping in.

"Prince Ivar, I've repaired your braces as reque-" She stops, eyes wide at the scene before her. The blonde, Freydis, was completely naked and looming over a shirtless Ivar with a predatory smile. She was in the middle of kneeling, before both look towards the intrusion.

His fingers paused their skimming over the nakedness of her side, and Artemis thought it would be in her best interests to leave such an intimate sight, yet she found herself momentarily frozen in place.

"Gods, Artemis, have you no regard for privacy?" Ivar reacts quickly, pushing Freydis away roughly as he eyed Artemis with a look of...well, she didn't know what to call that look. It was strange, almost apologetic.

"F-forgive me." She stutters, placing the sack with his braces neatly into a corner before running off. She stops beside the bishop, placing a hand over her beating heart as she let's out a shuddering breath. The bishop raises a brow, watching her in amusement as she places her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"I warned you."

"Shut up." She snarls at him, dashing off into the rain without another word. The last thing she heard was Heahmund's laughter echoing after her.

She stomps into the forge, the heat of the fire mixed with rain made an uncomfortable combination of humidity and moisture, dampening her mood further.

"Did Ivar favor the repairs?" Arvid asks cautiously, raising at brow at how disheveled she looked. He was already sensing her foul mood. They were barely on speaking terms, treading softly around each other, but he knew when she was upset, and it was very obvious that she was now. He didn't want to leave her alone, but his duties were to help the other men load their wares onto the ships. He places his cloak about his shoulders, awaiting an answer.

"It was fine." She grunts, not meeting his eyes. Arvid frowns, placing on his hood.

"I am to help the others gather the supplies for departure. See to the repairs." With that he stepped out into the rain, leaving her alone with her troubling thoughts.

So what if he preferred the company of Freydis? That was no business of hers...she attempts to lecture herself.

She peels off her cloak, tossing it aside carelessly. Her hair was soaked, chunks of it across her brow and cheeks from running without her hood on.

The scene replayed in her mind over and over again. The image of Ivar's face and how his fingers lingered over Freydis's skin was seared in her mind. She wondered how his touch would feel on her own skin before scowling.

"Shit." She groans dramatically, wasting no time in busying herself pounding away at the whatever weapons needed repairs. She was glad for the distraction, as her mind raced with unholy thoughts that bolied her blood. She found comfort in the sounds of metal hitting metal, the pattering of the rain soothing her for once.

The familiar scraping of metal and the stabbing of a crutch engulfed the empty forge. She sighs, her eyes peering up at Ivar as he entered. Now fully dressed and looking very much like himself, he was certainly amused.

She glares but says nothing, looking back at the task at hand. The blade was almost new again, and with one more dip in the fire it would be complete.

"Artemis," Ivar grins, grabbing a stool to sit beside her as she worked, "I can hear your ridiculous hammering from my chambers," His smile remained, and before she could raise the hammer again to beat the sword, he curls his fingers around her wrist, halting her actions.

"Something is troubling you." He remarks, easily snatching the hammer from her hand. She rolls her eyes, placing the sword into the bucket of cold water behind her. It was finished anyway.

"I am fine. " She replies stubbornly, attempting to grab the hammer, but he successfully holds it away from her. Even sitting he was much taller then her, and he held the hammer above his head like a child stealing another's toy. Artemis scowls, not bothering to reach for it anymore.

"Why are you here?" Ivar rolled his eyes, handing her back the tool.

"I think it only right to check on the work of my blacksmith."

"Here," She says, removing the sword from the bucket to shove the blade in his face, "Here is my work. Good?" Ivar smirks, humming as he moved two of his fingers to push the blade away from him.

"She was just a whore, Artemis, a bed warmer." She gives him a sharp look, watching as his blue eyes twinkle with mirth. He was teasing her.

"So?"

"So why do you seem so upset?"

"I am not upset."

"You're a terrible liar." She scoffs, pursing her lips.

"They say you freed her. Is it true?" Ivar hesitates.

"Yes."

"I wonder what she has done to merit that," Artemis mutters, "But I suppose it is no concern of mine." She turns away from him, wanting so badly to hide her emotions.

Ivar frowns.

"Artemis, look at me." She sighs, but obeys, moving to bring her gaze back to his. He reaches a hand out, gently moving away the wet pieces of hair from her face with a chuckle. He admires her for a moment, watching her lashes flutter in nervousness. Her cheeks were flushed, and she worried her lip between her teeth.

Ivar sighs, bringing his hand back to run it down the expanse of the new braids he sported. He couldn't bring himself to admit what he was truly feeling, and neither could she. Instead he teased her, offering her a toothy grin.

"Did you want to be in Freydis's place? Did you want to be the one about to suck me off?"

There it was, the reaction he knew was to come. Her face transformed into that of an angry wolf, eyebrows arched and lips set in a line. She wanted to punch him so badly, feeling her fists curl up on instinct.

She stops herself. Still not a good idea to punch a viking prince.

She quickly grabs her cloak, removing her gloves and tossing them at Ivar before stepping out into the foul weather. She needed to think, and be away from him.

...

"So, have you done...anything with her...yet?" Hvisterk inquires, ripping the meat off a chicken bone with his teeth, chewing unceremoniously. Ivar sat quietly, picking at his food, his mind running off.

"Who?"

"You know who, " Hvitserk rolls his eyes but continues, "Because if you don't, I would not mind." He shrugs, a smile breaking out when his brother glares at him.

"You will do no such thing." Ivar growls, slamming his hands down on the wooden table top, immediately silencing the church. He looked around before motioning for everyone to continue their meals, and so the chatter began again. Hvitserk laughs, tossing the chicken bone at Ivar, who quickly swatted it out his way.

"So I see she is still yours without being yours. Tell me brother, how can you have such a brilliant mind for war, yet such ignorance towards affection?" Hvitserk wasn't much of a romantic man himself, but even he wanted to feel the tender touches of love.

"Blame these useless legs." Ivar snarls. His nose flares in annoyance, reaching out to gulp down his own ale, and once he finished it, he grabbed at Hvitserk’s. He slammed the cup down when he finished, and after a moment, he relaxes, drumming his fingers over the table top and finally meeting his brothers eyes.

"Artemis is a distraction," He begins with a hiccup, "She is a Christian."

"That cannot be the issue," Hvitserk snorts, reaching out to eat another leg of chicken, "She is educated in our ways, you saw to that. I think you're scared baby brother."

"Hvitserk," Ivar warns, "Shut. Up."

"And she is beautiful, Ivar, " He continues, lowering his tone, "You decided to free her. You know men will venture towards her like hawks. If you desire her, then claim her." He shrugs.

"She is not the type to be...claimed, Hvitserk. She is not like...Freydis." He mutters the blonde girls name as if a poison were coated on his lips. She had been so convincing, whispering in his ear all the things he wished to hear, telling him the things he was capable of, and yet it all felt so wrong. Especially seeing Artemis's eyes after that.

"What happened with that anyway? Was she any good?" Hvitserk asks, crossing his arms over the table and leaning forward with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

"Nothing happened," Ivar hisses, "She couldn't-I couldn't," He hesitates, "Artemis walked in on us-"

"She what?" Laughter bubbled in Hvitserk's chest, and he couldn't hold back the grin, "Ivar you must be daft. You’re setting her up to fall into the arms of another! As I said, I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands-"

"I will fight you and all the others that dare approach her!" Ivar booms, slamming his hands onto the table, raising himself up as if ready to pounce at him. He gulps down the sudden rage, his eyes blinking, noticing his men once again stop to look at him.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Hvitserk asks, far use to his brothers outbursts. Ivar exhales through his nostrils, willing himself to relax. Slowly, he lowers himself back down with a plop, his eyes following his brother as he gets up and leaves the church.

He sighs, ripping apart a loaf of bread, and shoving the piece in his mouth.

How could he feel the way he did for a Christian? He swore to the gods he would stay faithful to his people, and to be with a true northern woman, but he found himself less interested in the women faithful to his gods, and more interested in that insuffereable woman faithful to her one.

"Shit." Ivar groans, dropping his head into his hands.

He was stupid.

...

Daylight came to an end and it had continued to rain in light showers that evening when the moon began to rise into the sky. Artemis searched for a moments peace, leaving the other blacksmith's with the remaining work that needed completing.

She bid England a farewell, knowing she'd never cross the sea again to view its horizon. Although it rained as if the sky were weeping, the surrounding nature was beautiful. Maybe not as beautiful as the hills of Crete or even the mountains in Norway, but it was peaceful.

There was a little yelp behind her, and she felt light nips against her ankles. Looking down she smiles at the pup as it cocks its head at her before wagging his tail, jumping on 2 legs to balance his paws on her leg. He was small, and a bit malnourished, with cream colored fur, black floppy ears and snout.

She often gave him bits of food when she had the chance, giving the pup reason to trail after her.

She smiles, bending down to scratch him behind his ears, grateful for his company. Picking a spot on the dewy grass, she spreads her cloak over it before laying down and closing her eyes with a content sigh. The rain had finally stopped and she was grateful, breathing in the night air. The river Thames' rushing waters helped to sooth her nerves.

It had taken some time, but her anger diffused. She couldn't be angry at him anymore, it was nearly impossible. Or perhaps she was just tired.

Or stupid.

The hound went to snuggle beside her, seeking out her warmth. It must have been an eventful day for both hound and girl, but they could forget all their troubles in that moment.

"Goddess of the moon, and hounds? And perhaps of torment as well." Ivar's voice was unmistakeable. Artemis could pinpoint it in a noisy crowd if she needed to. The sound of his voice in the distance was enough to have the hound act in suspicion.

"Prince Ivar." She greets him, eyes still closed, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He slithers along the damp grass, shushing the baby hound when it moved to growl at him.

"I never thanked you for repairing my braces, so...thank you." He plops beside her, laying down with his arms behind his head.

Artemis cracks an eye open with a snort. She turns to look at him, her eyes following the line of his profile. Ivar had his long hair loose, the dark strands forming waves from his earlier hairstyle, spread over the grass. It was a look Artemis was enamored with, but would never cared to admit. He was handsome indeed.

"Something tells me that is not why you are here." She says, and he finally turns to look at her, his blue eyes hard with determination.

"I wanted to...apologize for earlier. I did not mean to tease you so." Artemis sat up, turning to peer down at Ivar with a look of disbelief.

"Prince Ivar the Boneless does not apologize."

"I am being serious."

"So am I." He huffs, turning away from her to look at the moon, bright among the stars.

"It's fine." She finally says.

"That's it? It's fine?"

"Yes. "

"I meant what I said, you know," He continues, "Freydis was only a whore to warm my bed." He could almost hear how hard she was thinking.

"It's fine," She repeats, "There is no need to explain yourself, P-"

"Ivar," He cut her off, "You may call me Ivar." She pauses, fingers passing over the pups fur.

"Ivar." She corrects with a sigh, biting her lip to fight back a smile. It was different addressing him without his title.

She plops back down against the damp grass, her eyes moving across the night sky to catch a glimpse of all the stars. There was a comfortable silence that fell between them as they looked up at the heavens.

"Do you ever wonder," Artemis begins, "About the night sky, or the moon and stars?"

"No." Ivar snorts.

"There are stories my ancestors believed of the night," She recounts, "My father use to tell them to me when I was a girl."

"We have stories too. Nótt is the night sky, Mani the moon, and one of Aurvandil's toes is that star right over there." He points up, turning with a frown when Artemis laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"A toe?"

"Yes," He grunts, "What is it you Christian's believe?"

"That God created everything, of course."

"How dull." She laughs again, rolling her body to her side, finding he was already looking at her.

"The old Greeks believed the stars were people rewarded by the gods for noble deeds." Ivar smiles through his confusion.

"I like Aurvandil's toe better."

"It's, uhh, a beautiful toe, I suppose." Ivar chuckles, leaning up on his elbows.

"Why the sudden interest in the stars?"

"It was never sudden," She says, "I would sleep under the stars everyday of my life if I could. It is a comfort to admire the beauty in this world when it can be so cruel."

"Do you think me cruel?" Ivar utters the words softly, lowering himself to face her. It was getting darker, her features hard to make out with the simple light of the moon, but there was enough to see the surprise in her eyes.

"I...I think you cruel when the moment calls for it. Because you feel you need to be." Ivar closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. She was right.

"Cruelty wins wars. It conquers land," He pauses with a shaky breath, "But it would not win your heart." Her brows knit together in confusion.

"What?"

Ivar rolls his body closer to hers until he looms over her, maneuvering himself easily between her legs. She didn't put up a fight, though her eyes were wide with shock. He holds himself up, putting a hand atop her chest and feeling how her heart beated like drum.

"What must I do to win your heart?" She blinks up at him, debating if she should take him seriously.

"Why would you want to win my heart?" She holds his stare, their breaths puffing over each other with every timid exhale, "I thought perhaps you held the heart of another."

Ivar sucks his teeth, knowing exactly of who she meant. He dips his body lower until their chests touched and the tip of their noses brushed. His hair shields the sides of her face, cocooning her with his intense eyes. She hesitates before bringing her hands up to his chest, skimming the leather until her fingers curl over his shoulders.

"You are a foolish girl, you know that?" He chuckles, "A beautiful, yet foolish girl." He pauses, biting his lip in nervousness before gently placing his lips over hers.

Her lips were so soft, molding against his like a dance they had rehearsed over and over again. It was everything he could have hoped for, and he already begins to feel the buzz of excitement. She grips the back of his neck, bringing him closer, needing to feel his warmth. She melts into his kisses, feeling a pleasant heat engulf her.

It was...perfect.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted with an obscene sound, and he places his brow on hers, breathing in her scent of damp earth. Artemis brings a hand up to trace her fingers over his face, down the length of his nose, and to his jaw. She bites her lip, feeling her skin blaze like a fever.

"Do you really think me foolish?" She whispers, her eyes lingering over his lips before trailing them up to his eyes. They lit up when he smiles, crinkling at the corners.

"Did you really think she could warm my heart?" He counters.

"It was quite convincing." She mutters, "I thought perhaps I’d have to make one for you as I did your braces." She shifts her head away from his to save herself the embarrassment.

"Stop," He says gently, nudging her face back with his nose, "Do not hide from me anymore." He rolls off of her, and within a few seconds, he tugs her over him, her legs coming to rest on either side of his thighs. She grips the neckline of his leather vest to stabilize herself, and his hands sneak up to settle on her hips.

"Ivar, I-"

"Just listen to me, Artemis," She nods, resting her hands over his chest, "I was never fortunate enough to show affection as plainly as any other man could." He takes in a breath, closing his eyes as if to sum up the courage, before opening them again.

"I cannot explain it, but there is something you ignite in me that I could not ignore, no matter how hard I pleaded with the gods to make the ache in my heart stop. I can no longer ignore it." This time he turns his face away from hers, and this time, she brings him back, her palm brushing gently over his sideburn.

"Do not hide from me." She repeats his words with a smile, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. The same fluttering sensations in her abdomen from days ago resurfaced just from the simple intimate action.

"My heart aches for you." He admits, and she could feel his heart beating wildly as he said those words, his eyes swimming with...fear. She watches him carefully in silence.

"Artemis." Ivar pleads in a tone that was foreign to her ears. He was anxious.

"What of Freydis?" He sucks his teeth, lifting himself on his elbows to get a better look at her.

"If I truly wanted her, would I be wasting time revealing my heart to you?"

"I am not sure what you would do, Ivar." She admits, and he sighs, understanding her skepticism.

"I've never used her before." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?" Another sigh.

"I said, I've never used her...services before. Today would have been the first time." Artemis lowers herself over him, pushing him back down so that her face hovered a few inches above his.

"Are you lying?" She questions.

"No, baby bird, I am not," He smooths her over with the nickname, bringing both his hands up to grip the sides of her delicate face, her eyes suddenly glossing over.

"I did not have the strength to rid my thoughts of you. I thought perhaps she could rid them for me. For once, I was wrong." He runs the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones, and her eyes flutter at the sensation.

There was silence for a moment as their eyes battled each others.

"You torment me." He whines.

"Not a pleasant feeling, is it?" She laughs at the pout forming on his pink lips, letting him guide her back to his lips. He nips at her lips, smiling when she moans in what was a mixture of discomfort and desire. She pulls away, panting slightly as she buried herself in the crook of his neck.

"You are not alone in your affections," She mumbles over his skin, "But I must confess that I am afraid."

"I must confess the same," He says, "Love turns even the bravest of men into cowards. I see that now." She shifts her face to skim her lips over the hot skin of his face before lifting her upper body up again.

"Hmm." She considers his words as she shifts her hips over his, watching how his eyes screwed shut, mouth falling open. She freezes, unaware of what she’d just done.

"Fuck," He growls, his fingers sinking into her hips, "How did you do that?" Her eyes widened, totally naive of her own actions.

"I-I dont know." She stutters. Ivar shifts her hips over his again, and she chokes, closing her eyes as her body trembled from the foreign sensations.

"That," Ivar moans, drinking in the sight of her own face of pleasure, "That."

She feels him growing under her, the pressure pushing up against the heat between her legs. She licks her lips, feeling a desire surge through her that she'd never experienced before.

Ivar stares up at her in wonder, chest heaving and hands twitching over her hips before pulling her down for another heated kiss. His large hands explore the expanse of her back, settling right on the dip, pushing down to follow the rhythm in which she moved.

"I've never done this before." He pants shyly over her lips, releasing another moan that seemed to vibrate through her.

"Neither have I." She pants back, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"But the rumors-"

"Forget the rumors," She interrupts him, moving back just enough to make eye contact, "You believe love is what you feel for me?"

"I do." He nods without hesitation. She throws caution to the wind, swooping down for another kiss before replying.

"Then show me."

...

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