#this sketch hasn’t let my mind since i saw it

[pokemon1oadvanced]

I’m now ready for whatever next season throws at me 💪🏻

[auxiliarydetective]

Sanji/Cora/Zoro Fic Snippets, Part 2

More of the prompts that @starcrossedjedis sent me!

These are both a bit more on the shorter side, hope you don't mind! Also, I originally promised myself I was gonna do fluff only, but a little bit of hurt/comfort snuck into the second one ^^"

Enjoy!

💛 Reunion Kiss/Relief

Cora was leaning over the railing, waiting for Usopp to come back up with Sanji. Whatever had happened to Sanji over the last two years, it was concerning, to say the least.

“That idiot,” Zoro grumbled, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

That was… new. Well, one of those things.

Cora chuckled. “You’re always so nice to him… Glad to know at least that hasn’t changed.”

Zoro spun her around in his arms, then placed a rough hand beneath her chin and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was oddly gentle, yet desperate at the same time, and all the while just as rough as Zoro’s kisses always were. It was the comfort that Cora had been yearning for for the last two years, mixed with the thrill of something new. When Zoro finally pulled away from her, she immediately missed the taste of his lips.

“Eager, are we?” she breathed.

“Can you blame me?” Zoro chuckled. “It’s been too fucking long.”

“It has.”

As if she were just a doll, Zoro easily scooped her up into his arms, letting her wrap her legs around his waist.

“There we go. Did you get smaller?”

“No, you idiot,” Cora laughed. “You got taller!”

“Did I?”

“Yeah! I’m wearing taller heels than usual and you’re still bigger than I remembered.”

“That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“You’ll get tired of looking up, so I get to carry you around more.”

Once again, Cora laughed, clinging on to Zoro so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall. Not that he would ever let that happen. She let herself lean against him, running her fingers through his hair, trying to familiarize herself with every single detail about him again as quickly as possible. New freckles, new scars, the same shapes and colors she knew so well. The same but different. And she couldn’t wait to get to know him all over again.

True Love’s Kiss/Magic Kiss/Healed

Cora stood in front of her closet, going through her clothes. She was looking for some old clothes to improve on, an embroidery project for those long days at sea, for those nights spent out on night watch, whether voluntary or not. Clad in only her underwear, she flicked through the various clothes hangers, looking at one garment, trying on another… Finally, she picked out an old skirt, plain black and uneventful. One of the few items she had actually bought and not sewn herself. Perhaps… Swiftly, she put it on, spinning around once or twice, then walking over to her vanity table to grab a piece of chalk. Carefully, she started sketching patterns and lines onto the fabric.

That was until she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze got caught on those characteristic lines on her back, senseless and discolored, as if someone had dropped their sewing kit and the needles had gone everywhere. Some were bigger, some were smaller. Some still hurt sometimes.

Suddenly, she heard someone call her name, and there were steps in the room. In a hectic motion, she yanked one of her jackets out of the closet and swung it over her shoulders, covering her back. Then, she noticed who it was: Zoro and Sanji, probably there to have her settle an argument or a bet. Or both. Or being clingy. Maybe all three.

“God,” Cora gasped, “don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry, princess,” Sanji apologized.

“The door was open,” Zoro just shrugged.

“Was it?” Cora sighed, sounding both annoyed and tired.

“Aren’t you supposed to cover your tits when people come in?” Zoro asked, causing Sanji to give him an annoyed stare.

“And since when do I care about covering my chest, huh?” Cora replied. “I’ve got some very pretty bras, why not show them off? Such a shame to be hiding them under shirts all the time.”

“But you’re still hiding your back?”

“… Touché.”

Typical Zoro. He always knew how to hit a nerve, but he had no idea how to do it gently. “Gentle” was more Sanji’s style. True to this, the blonde cook came up to hug Cora within seconds, gently running his fingers through her hair.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he whispered.

“Wounds on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame,” Cora just mumbled.

“Don’t use my words against me, you got it?” Zoro growled, pulling the jacket off of Cora’s back. “You’re not a swordsman, you’ve told me that over and over. And that rule only applies in a situation where you’re in control. Where it’s fair. You didn’t even have a chance to fight.”

“Look, Cora,” Sanji mumbled, cupping her face with his hands as Zoro ran his fingers along the scars across her back. “How you got those scars doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. They healed. And we’re not going back there anymore. Never ever, you hear me? They’re never gonna find us, and if they do, we’ll be far away before they can even try to catch us. Alright?”

Cora nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Sanji smiled, giving her a gentle kiss.

“If any of those guys even try to get close to you, I’ll chop off their heads,” Zoro declared.

“I just wish I could’ve gotten out of there sooner,” Cora mumbled.

“You did what you could, and what’s done is done. Let them be assholes all they want, everyone’s gotta die one day.”

Cora hummed quietly, then a smile spread on her face. “Why did you come here anyway? Did you need anything?”

“That waiter claimed he was a better kisser than me,” Zoro grumbled.

“Really?”

“Because I am,” Sanji beamed. “Right, Cora? – It’s about the technique, not just shoving your tongue down someone’s throat.”

“You never seem to mind it when I do it to you,” Zoro chuckled. “And neither does Cora, by the way. Right, babygirl?”

“I, uh… I dunno,” Cora stammered. But then she smirked. “I’d need a direct comparison to know for sure.”

Immediately, there was a mischievous grin on both Zoro and Sanji’s faces.

“As you wish, madam,” Sanji purred.

Just then, Zoro picked Cora up from behind, causing her to let out a surprised shriek. Within few steps, he placed her down on her mattress. Both of the men crawled over her and started covering her in kisses, all the while trying to push each other away, throwing Cora into a giggling fit.

[middleearthpixie]

Human Touch ~ Chapter One

A/N: This is the follow up to Playing With Fire, but can be read as a standalone. I thought Frerin deserved a nice, steamy romp just like his older brother got with Leda, so this is his story. I know I’ve got like three other fics to update, but I thought maybe I’d throw this out there and see what everyone thought of it… 

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, new to the history department at the high school, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin  x OFC Elena Madison

Characters: Frerin, Elena, Alyssa, Nurse Angela Hart, Nurse Leigh Addams

Warnings: None (yet)

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

I know I ain’t nobody’s bargain, but hell, a little touch-up and a little paint ~ Bruce Springsteen

December 15

Monday night, 2:50AM

“Dr. Durin?”

Frerin rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but we just got a call from the ER. They need you down there.”

“What time is it, Leigh?”

“Ten to three.”

He bit back a groan as he sat up. He was getting too old for being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night. “Okay. I’m coming. What is it?”

“A six year old with exposure.”

“Exposure?”

“That’s what they said.”

He slid down from the bed where he was tying to catch some sleep in the on call room, and grabbed his white coat from the foot of it. “What the hell was a six year old doing out in this?” He gestured to the sleet pounding against the window. 

“I don’t know,” Nurse Leigh Addams shook her head as he joined her in the hallway. The lights were softer than normal, since it was the middle of the night, but he was still mole-eyed. 

“Damn it, do you know where I left my steth?”

“Take mine, but give it back.” She reached up to drape it around his neck, then gave him a gentle push. “Go.”

“I’m going.” He rubbed his eyes as he turned to make his way to the elevators. The pediatric unit was on the eighth floor, and fortunately, the elevator was quick. He was alone in the car, and all he could think about was getting a cup of coffee. Caffeine was a must when he worked the night shift. His days of being able to power through without it were firmly behind him.

The doors slid open and where the pediatric unit was fairly quiet at almost three in the morning, the ER was a bit busier and must’ve been for some time, judging by the sheer number of patients he saw. The rooms and curtain areas must’ve been at capacity, since there were nearly half a dozen patients on gurneys in the hallway as well. He moved by them, dodged paramedics clattering by with their stretchers, and at the main desk, said, “You called, Angela?”

Angela Hart smiled. “Dr. Durin, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you on nights.”

“Yeah, well, McArthur is out with the flu, so someone has to cover. Where is the frozen six year old?”

“Paramedics are rolling up now.”

He rubbed his eyes again. “Is there coffee in the lounge?”

“There should be, but it might be from the day shift.”

“It’s caffeine. I don’t care if I have to chew it. Let me know when the kid’s back.” 

The lounge was directly across from the main desk, and thank Christ the coffee seemed fresh. He poured a cup, raided the fridge for half and half, only to find nothing but flavored creamers. He wrinkled his nose, but grabbed the French vanilla and poured it into the cup. 

“Frerin,” Angela poked her head into the lounge, “your boy is in Trauma One.”

“Okay.” He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, winced as it scalded its way down his throat, and then he set the cup on the table. “I’m coming.”

Trauma One was down the short hallway and to his right, one of three in the ER, as they were the county trauma center when Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital was too far for transport. He hadn’t spent much time in the ER lately, but had spent enough that he knew the ER docs and nurses, they knew him, and they all worked well together. 

“Okay,” he said as he came into the room, “give me the bullet…”

“Mom?”

Elena Madison bit back a groan at her daughter’s whisper. “What is it, Alyssa?”

“I don't feel well.”

Elena lifted her head to squint at the clock. Three-thirty in the morning. She reached over to switch on the lamp. “What’s wrong?”

“My throat really hurts and I can’t get warm and everything hurts.”

“Do you want to sleep here, with me?”

“Can I?”

“Come on.”

Alyssa climbed up into the bed and snuggled up against her. Heat wafted from her daughter’s body, hot enough that Elena laid a hand on her forehead. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“A while. I felt funny when I was doing my homework, but thought I was just tired. But now… I really feel awful.”

“Let me see if I can find the thermometer. It might not be unpacked yet.”

Alyssa squinted at the light and nodded. “Okay.”

Elena frowned. Alyssa looked pale. Almost chalk-white, actually. The flu was going around at Sidleburg High, where she was a freshman. Oh, she hoped it wasn't that. They’d only been in town a few days, she hadn’t had time to find any kind of doctors yet and didn't even know where the nearest medimerge was.

Still, she got up and padded into the bathroom, where she searched for the digital thermometer. Luck was on her side. It was tucked into her makeup bag. 

She brought it back to her bedroom. “Under your tongue, peanut.”

Alyssa nodded as she opened her mouth and let Elena slip the thermometer under her tongue.  Then, she sat very quietly, just resting her head against Elena’s shoulder until the thermometer beeped.

Alyssa pulled it out and frowned. “One-oh-two, Mom.”

“Okay, tell you what, why don’t you just stay here and try to get some sleep and if it gets any higher, we’ll run to the ER?”

Alyssa winced. “Everything just hurts… I don't even want to lay down.”

Elena sighed softly. “Do you want to go see a doctor?”

“Will it help?”

“I don't know. It’s probably just the flu, but it might not be, either.” Elena gently pressed her hand to Alyssa’s forehead only to have her flinch and jerk back with a muted cry. “Okay. We’ll go over to the ER. Let me throw some clothes on, okay?”

Alyssa nodded and gingerly lay down to curl into the fetal position. “Okay.”

Elena grabbed a hoodie to tug on over her tee shirt, The leggings she had on would suffice, so she tugged on thick socks and her work boots, ran a brush through her hair and tugged it up into a hasty bun. “Ready, honey?”

Alyssa nodded slowly, sitting up with a wince. “My hair hurts.”

“Yeah, fevers do that. Come on.” Elena eased an arm about Alyssa’s waist and gently helped her to her feet. “Let me just grab my keys and we can go.”

Outside, Alyssa sucked in a sharp breath. “The snow hurts…”

“I know, baby, I know. I’ll have the car warmed up in a jiffy, I promise.” She helped Alyssa around to the passenger side of her Accord and gingerly fastened the seat belt. “Just close your eyes and try to sleep a little if you can. We’ll be there in a few minutes, if I don't get lost.”

“Try not to get lost, Mom.”

“I’ll do my best, Sarge.”

That earned her a weak smile and she pressed a light kiss into Alyssa’s hot forehead. Then, she closed the car door, skirted the car’s nose, and sank into the driver’s seat. 

The advantage to trying to find Sidleberg Memorial Hospital in the dead of night was there wasn’t a lot of traffic. The downside? She still didn't know exactly where it was and even with the GPS, it took her longer than she would have liked to find it. But finally, she swung the car into the driveway, looped around to pull up in front of the big revolving door leading to the ER.

“We’re here, honey. Let’s get you inside and I’ll move the car, okay?”

Alyssa nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Come on, baby, small steps. We’re almost there.”

“I’m so cold…”

Elena came around to grab her about the waist. It might have only been her imagination, but it seemed more heat radiated from her daughter than before and she shivered as well now. “Easy, honey. We’re almost there.”

“I just want to lay down, Mom.”

“I know. Soon.” She nudged the door with her hip to close it, then slowly walked Alyssa into the brightly lit waiting room and guided her over to a chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Alyssa nodded, curling into a ball once more. “Okay, Mom.”

Elena crossed to the reception desk, where the nurse sat behind a plexiglass wall. “How can I help you?”

“I think my daughter has the flu, but her temperature has really shot up in the last half hour. It was one-oh-two when we left and I think it’s gone up.”

“Her name?”

“Alyssa Madison.”

“Date of birth?”

Elena gave her the information, dug out her insurance card, and waited as the nurse typed all of the info into the computer system. The nurse offered up a reassuring smile. “She’ll be brought back as soon as possible, Mrs. Madison.”

“Thank you.”

She went back to where Alyssa sat and not five minutes later, another nurse, in cranberry colored scrubs, came over to them with a wheelchair and a hospital bracelet. “Alyssa?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’m Carol, how are you feeling?”

“Like crap.” Alyssa looked over at Elena. “Sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay.” Elena ruffled her hair. “You get a pass because you look like you feel like crap.”

Carol smiled. “I know, there’s a lot of flu going around.” She looked up at Elena. “Who is your pediatrician?”

“We don't have one yet. We’re new to the area.”

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the head of the department here tonight and he’s really good. So,” she fastened the bracelet about Alyssa’s right wrist, “why don't we get you back into a bed and get you a nice heated blanket?”

“I’ve got to go move my car,” Elena said, gesturing to the black Accord still in front of the door. 

“That’s not a problem. Gloria will buzz you back and tell you where to find us. Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll keep an eye on her. Can you move over into the chair for me, Alyssa?”

“Sure.” 

As Alyssa moved, Elena went out to park her car in the parking deck. There was spot just beyond where the ambulances charged, and she quickly locked the doors and hurried back inside, where Gloria told her she’d find Alyssa in Room Six, and told her where she’d find Room Six.

Alyssa was dozing, looking almost as pale as the hospital linens and Carol was still there. “Her temp is one-oh-two-point-three. You made the right decision in bringing her in, Mom. Is she allergic to any anything?”

“Cashews,” Elena said with a slight smile as she cast a worried look over at her daughter. “They make her lips and tongue tingle and swell.”

“Is she on any medications?”

“No. She’s always been a healthy kid. Aside from finding out about the cashews, anyway.”

“And medical conditions? Heart or kidney problems?”

“No. Again, she’s a healthy kid.”

“Okay. We’re a little busy, but it shouldn’t take Dr. Durin long. If you want to watch television, the remote is on the tray.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

After Carol left, Elena sank into the single chair alongside Alyssa’s bed with a soft sigh, reaching up to rub one eye. It was nearly three-thirty. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. She hated calling out sick when she’d only been there a few weeks, but would have had no choice if it was a weekday. She had no idea how long they would be there, and had no idea if Alyssa was sick with the flu or something worse, and she had no support system aside from herself. The last thing she wanted to do was call Alyssa’s father and even if she wanted to, there was no point. He and his girlfriend were in Aruba for the holidays.

She sighed softly, tucking her legs up under her and propped her head on her fist as CNN played softly on the television. 

She didn't know she’d dozed off until she heard a soft, “Mrs. Madison?” and felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

She jumped as if someone had shouted at her. “I’m up… I—I mean, I’m Mrs. Madison… yes…”

“Sorry. I tried to not to startle you.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay. I didn’t even know I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes slowly and squinted up to find herself looking at a rather tired-looking man in white lab coat with a hot pink stethoscope around his neck who moved to the box of latex exam gloves and tugged two free. 

“I’m Dr. Durin. This is your daughter,” he glanced down at the chart in his hand, “Alyssa?”

“Yes. I think she might have the flu, but I’m not sure. She’s had a cold for the last two days, but tonight started running a fever and it shot up pretty quickly.”

“Okay. You’re probably right, but I’ll check her just the same.” He set the chart down on the counter and pulled on the gloves. “You’re welcome to stay in the room, or if you want to step out, I’ll have a nurse come in, instead.”

“I’ll ask Alyssa.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled. “Don’t look so worried, Mom. She’s in good hands.”

“I didn't realize it was my worry was showing.”

“I can see it.” He moved closer to the bed and gave Alyssa a gentle shake. “Alyssa? Can you open your eyes for me?”

“What… who… who are?”

“I’m Dr. Durin. Mom said you’re sick? You think you might have the flu?”

“Maybe. I thought it was just a cold, but now… I’m freezing and the nurse said my fever got higher.”

“One-oh-two-point-three. Yeah, I’d say you’re definitely sick.” He touched the top of her head. “Does that hurt?”

“Everything hurts.”

“That’s the fever. We’ll give you some Tylenol to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now,” he lifted the stethoscope from around his neck to fit the earpieces in place, “do you want Mom to stay or would you rather Carol stay while I examine you?”

“Mom can stay.” Alyssa managed a slight smile. “I like your stethoscope. Pink is my favorite color.”

“Oh, yeah? This isn’t mine. Mine went missing, so I borrowed it from one of the nurses. I think she has a purple one, too.”

“I didn't know they came in different colors.”

“They do, indeed. You name the color, you can find one in it.” He warmed the diaphragm part of the stethoscope between his palms, then slid it beneath her hospital gown, bringing his free hand up to hold a finger to his lips for minute. Then, he moved it, saying, “Take a deep breath for me?”

She did. He moved it again. “Another, please.”

She did and he slid the stethoscope free. “Can you sit forward for me, Alyssa?”

She nodded and did, then began coughing. He waited until she finished. “Do you need a drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay, Dr. Durin.”

“Okay.” He pressed the stethoscope to her back. “Again, a deep breath for me.”  

She did and then he tugged the ear pieces from his ears and draped the stethoscope around his neck once more. “Okay. You can lie back,” before picking up her chart to make a notation. “Your lungs sound clear and that’s a good thing.”

She sighed softly as she sank into the pillow. “What color is yours?”

“My steth? I’m afraid it’s boring gray.” 

“You should get a pink one.”

Elena pressed her lips together to hold back her smile as Dr. Durin said, “You think so? It wouldn’t make me look dorky?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“I’ll think about it.” He set her chart on the tray table and brought his hands to her neck, feeling around and under her jaw. “Glands are a little swollen. Do you have a sore throat?”

“It’s a little scratchy. It was worse yesterday.”

“How much worse?”

“It felt like razor blades.”

“How old are you, Alyssa?”

“I’ll be fourteen on the twenty-ninth.”

“Yeah? My daughter’s about your age. Are you a freshman?”

“Yeah.”

“So’s Maura. How do you like school?”

“I like everything but algebra.”

“I hated algebra myself. I like Chem and Bio. Anytime there was a chance I could blow something up, I was there.”

Alyssa chuckled. “I can’t wait to take Chem.”

“Mom, how is she doing in school?”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s a straight-A student.”

“Really? Good for you, Alyssa. Keep those grades up and get into a good college.” He took a pencil flashlight from his pocket. “Do me a favor? Follow the light with just your eyes, okay? Don’t turn your head.”

“I won’t.”

Elena tucked her legs back under her as Dr. Durin then shined the light in first Alyssa’s left eye, then her right, and then straightened to tuck the flashlight back in his coat pocket. “Okay. I’d like to draw some blood, Mom, if I can, just to rule out a few things. I think it’s flu, and lord knows we’ve seen enough of it, but I want to be sure, because she’s a little sensitive to the light.” 

He turned back to Elena. “It’s probably the fever, but we’ve also seen a few cases of meningitis, so I want to rule that out entirely.”

“That’ll show in a blood test?”

He nodded. “It can, so that’s where we’ll start.”

“Do I have to get a shot?”

He turned back to Alyssa. “No, I don't think so, but I do want to take some blood. I promise you, Carol has the lightest touch and you’ll barely even feel it, okay?”

Alyssa’s pale face went paler still. “I don't like needles.”

“It’s not really a needle, Alyssa. It’s smaller, and I promise, I’ll only take a little bit.” He patted her through the blanket then looked back at Elena, peeling the gloves off to toss in the trashcan. “Mom, can I have a word with you?”

Elena’s stomach curdled as she nodded and rose to follow him out of the exam room. “Is something wrong?”

“No. But, I’ll need your permission to draw the blood and if necessary, to do a lumbar puncture.”

“A what?”

“A spinal tap. But,” he held out a hand as she opened her mouth to protest, “that’s only if the bloodwork comes up inconclusive. So, it’s a last resort, I promise. I do think’s it’s the flu, but like I said, we’ve had a few cases of meningitis and I don't want to risk it.”

She sighed softly, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “I suppose. I hate the idea of a spinal tap, though.”

“It’s only if I can’t rule it out through the bloodwork. And I’d give her plenty of local anesthetic so she wouldn’t feel much.”

Elena sighed again. She supposed at one time, she’d have wished Alyssa’s father was there, helping her make the tough decisions. But then she remembered that the reason she was there alone because he didn't care about making any decisions with her or being a team. He was far more interested if where he could stick his cock next.

So, slowly, and not at all certain she was making the right decision, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Madison,” he told her with a hint of a smile. “I’ve done more of these than I can count and she won’t feel it. I promise.”

“Do I look that worried?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry… I just… I just thought it was a cold and then—”

“It’s been a rough flu season, and like I said, that’s probably what this is. I just want to be sure.”

“I know.” She peered around the doorway at Alyssa, who looked even younger now, her eyes closed, and she fought back a sigh. “But… that’s my kid.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I’ve got three of my own and I would react the same way if I was in your shoes. But, I promise you, Mrs. Madison, I won’t do it unless I have to.”

She looked back at him. “Okay. But, if you were me, would you agree to it?”

“I would. If it’s something like meningitis, you don't want to play around with it.”

“I know that. I do. I’m mostly a rational adult person, but—”

“It’s different when it’s your kid.”

Elena nodded, rubbing her forehead with one hand as she sighed softly for at least the third time. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so damn tired. “It’s different when it’s your kid. And I already hate being in the ER for something like this, but we don’t have a pediatrician yet and I don't even know if there’s a medimerge type place anywhere in town.”

“It’s okay that you brought her here.” He reached out to touch her shoulder. “It’s better to be safe than sorry. In all honesty, I do think it’s just the flu. I just prefer to err on the side of caution. So, I’ll have Carol come in and do the draw and when the results come in, I’ll come find you, okay? The cafeteria is closed, unfortunately, but there is a coffee machine just down the hallway if you could use a boost.”

She managed a slight laugh. “There isn’t enough caffeine in the world for a night like this.”

“I know. I’ve been there. Like I said, I’ve got three kids and they never get sick at good times. But, she’s in good hands. I promise.”

Elena nodded and rubbed her eyes this time. They stung with a fury and she really just wanted to curl up in a ball and let them close. But, since she couldn’t, she lowered her hand to look up at him  “I know.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I have the results of her bloodwork. You can use your cell in here if you want to call your husband.”

“There is no husband. It’s just me and Alyssa.”

“Okay, well… if there’s anything you need, just let Carol know, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He smiled and then started off down the hallway. She stood there for a moment, just watching, and then berated herself silently since it was not the time to be thinking about how beautiful his blue-gray eyes were. Not when she was waiting to find out if Alyssa had meningitis or not.

So with a sigh, she went back into the room and back to her chair, where Alyssa offered up a tired smile and said, “I like him, Mom. He’s nicer than Dr. Garrett was. Cuter, too.”

“Alyssa.”

“Oh, tell me he isn’t.”

“I thought you were sick?”

Alyssa tugged the blanket back up to her chin. “Mom, you could totally land a doctor. Dad would stew in envy if you did.”

“I’m not looking to land anyone, Alyssa. Especially not tonight.”

“I’m just saying. You could.”

“Alyssa?” Carol tapped softly on the door and came into the room. “Dr. Durin asked me to draw some blood.”

Alyssa went paler still as she nodded. “If you have to.”

“Mom, I just need you to sign the consent form and then we’ll get started.”

Elena looked over the form and sighed as Carol tugged on a pair of gloves and unwrapped the kit. Alyssa held out her left hand. “Mommy?”

Mommy. Elena couldn't remember the last time Alyssa called her that. Without hesitation, Elena caught Alyssa’s hand and whispered, “It’ll be fine, peanut,” as Carol tied the rubber tubing about Alyssa’s right arm. Alyssa sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers tightening about Elena’s, and Elena kept whispering, “It’s okay, sweetie.”

“All done,” Carol said, untying the tourniquet and pressing a small piece of gauze into the crook of Alyssa’s arm. She unwrapped a Band-Aid and pressed that over the gauze. “Try to get some sleep, Alyssa. Hopefully the results won’t take long, but you never know. We’re crazy busy tonight and I have no idea how backed up the lab might be.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you need anything?”

“No, we’re fine.” Elena looked over at Alyssa, who was already asleep. “I just need her to get better.”

“She will. And Dr. Durin will be in as soon as the results are in as well.”

“Thank you again.”

Carol smiled and left with the vials, and a few minutes later, despite her uncomfortable position, Elena managed to doze off as well. 

[nonotranslates]

April Fools 2020 - Login Story 2 (200406) ft. Rutile, Arthur, Faust

Also starring the return of Cool and Dirty™ and mentions of Oz papa.

====== Nostalgia of Youth and Fluttering Petals - Short Story 2 (20200406) ======

Rutile: That’s a great pose, Arthur! But it’d be great if you could act juuust a little bit cooler. Pretend that you’re actually a hero. 

Arthur: A-Act a little cooler……? ………… Would this do? 

(Sketching sounds)

Rutile: Perfect! Alright, with this, I’m done with the rough sketch……

Arthur: Please let me have a look. Wow, you really turned my posing into a whole illustration……! As expected of a professional comic artist. 

Faust: Hey, the two of you…… You’ve been really noisy since just now. Just what are you guys fussing about? 

Arthur: Faust……! You’re always staying shut behind that hidden door in the library, so it’s been a while since we last met, hasn’t it? 

Arthur: I’m actually helping Rutile out with his comic drawing by posing for him. 

Rutile: Arthur saw me when I was feeling troubled, and quietly came over offering his help. 

Rutile: Look at this panel with the Kabe-don scene, isn’t it cool? It is thanks to Arthur’s posing that I could pull this drawing off!

Arthur (blushing): It’s not a pose I would normally make so it’s a little embarrassing…… 

Rutile: Ah, that’s right! If you’re alright with it, would you mind helping me out too, Faust? Of course, if that troubles you then…… 

Faust: I definitely do not want to be some model for a comic. If my image amongst the students were to crumble any further…… 

Rutile, Arthur: ……

Faust: ……Well, if it’s to do some cool and dirty pose, then it’s not like I can’t consider. And for my reward, follow me to the bubble tea store. 

Arthur: Sure! In the beginning, I was really nervous when visiting one too and got Oz to accompany me so I understand.

Rutile: Once we’re done, let’s go grab a drink together then! Alright then, just one more stretch to the finish line. Here I go~!

[vanbredevoort]

As if pulled by a potent magnet, Lydia made her way towards Francesca, to the hand that was extended to her. Lydia hated being touched. The warmth of someone else’s skin against her own always threatened to shatter her mind, sent shivers of pure agony down her spine. When it was needed, she endured. For the sake of her own needs, yes, but usually for the sake of Vilgefortz.

This time it was for the sake of restoring a broken balance. The mental image of Francesca kneeling in front of her was still tattooed into her mind, burned into her eyelids, and it had broken something in her—beyond repair. So with madness she stumbled her way. Because the gesture of Francesca holding her hand out and Lydia obeying was the way things were supposed to be. If her hand was on Francesca’s, and not the other way around, balance was restored, albeit slightly. The real balance would be somewhat restored in Thanedd, but Francesca had no way of knowing that—

Until she said live.

“Va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va’esse eigh faidh'ar”, Lydia repeated, not being able to mask the nilfgaardian accent she carried when she used elder speech even in telepathic voice. After so many years in the Northern Realms she had learnt how to mask the accent that stubbornly refused to be gone, but this time she had no strength in her to stop it, to mimic, to pretend.

The urge to sketch the sight of her, standing near the window, was by that point something close to burning. If not controlled by the little willpower she had left, her hands would have twitched, itching to grab a parchment and a pencil and letting the lines tell a tale of dreadful beauty, of words sharp as daggers, of something ancient that is forced to be born again, each time losing a piece. That’s what Lydia saw when she stared at her.

“Aé esse aecáemm taedh, Enid. Aé esse deien taedh, elaine rhena”

I will follow you.I will serve you.

Lydia put her hand on Francesca’s. Her pale fingers gently rested on top of her palm, her thumb slowly opposing to wrap without any strength around the soft fingers of Francesca’s hand. Big, expressive doe-like eyes lifted to meet her gaze, since the elf was significantly taller than Lydia. Green against azure blue, the calm of the forest on the might of the seas. She followed the command of Francesca’s hand when she felt the slightest pull, as she would have followed if she commanded her to get on her knees or jump off the window. So entranced she was by the scene, the lights dancing on her skin, the severity of her expression, that Lydia would have done anything—

Except live.

“You have lived so much, and you have so much more to live. Your tale hasn’t ended yet. You see what others don’t, you perceive what others miss. You take a breeze and turn it into a hurricane—but what I must do is my choice. And as much as you should reign supreme on top of anything that can and will be named, there is a price to pay for that. I will be your shield. I will be your salvation. I will be your sword. I will be the flower or the thorn. I will be what is necessary, because someone has to, and it can’t be you. It can’t be him. You’re both destined for more”, her telepathic voice was devoid of any emotions, but her eyes spoke of resolve, “—but don’t mistake my convictions for chains I have willingly put around my wrists. Do not take my devotion and spin it into manipulation. Do not paint me with colours forced upon me but the ones I have designed. I have nothing but freedom, I have made my choices. I know the goal and the price. I’ve seen the debt and I know the currency it accepts. I’m not blind, do not make me into a naïve prey to an evil hunter”

Not once did her eyes leave Francesca’s.

“If I’m wrong, that’s my burden to carry. If I’m mistaken, it’s not because I did not know what I was doing. I will not die, Lady Findabair”, a lie, a lie, a lie, “But I will do what I must do, and it will be my choice”

The end does not entirely justify the means. There is a price far too great to pay for peace, for stability, for equality. There is a measured amount of blood that can be shed for violence to stop. The chess board was set, and the hundred pieces moved in complex manners, not following any book but their assets and their strife towards survival. But Lydia knew her place in that board, and hers was not as complex. Her piece did not move in unpredictable ways, and she was put right where the king and the queen needed her. She just had to make her move, and it was obvious. The course was set.

Pawn to E2.A sacrifice.

Blood on her dress, blood on the hallways of Thanedd. A measured move, a needed sacrifice.

“Squass’me. Vorsaeke’me. Dearmad’me.”

In the ethereal realm where shadows danced upon the threads of fate, Francesca stood amidst the tapestry of an ephemeral moment, grappling with the profound import of the uttered words. It was not a mere matter of comprehension, for she, as a paragon of sagacity, bore witness to the delicate interplay between the mundane and the arcane. The weaver of beauty, seemingly fashioned from the loom of grace, had become an unwitting pawn in the sinister machinations of power. How had the tendrils of darkness coiled so tightly around a spirit that, through the alchemy of art, crafted naught but beauty? As her fingers traced patterns in the air, invoking the elder speech, the very room seemed to resonate with the echoes of ancient incantations, a testament to the ageless struggle against shadows that lurked in the recesses of consciousness.

A delicate being, a mere pawn manipulated for power – how had she succumbed to such a fate, deeming herself insignificant in the grand scheme of things? Shock, disbelief, and sorrow jostled within Francesca, rendering her uncharacteristically speechless.

"Sor’ca. Feainnewedd. Beag crevan. Ensh'eass Daerienn," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of ancient connections, her azure eyes canvassing the room as she invoked names that echoed Enid's very essence. "Vhóel esse Ire lokke, ire tedd, N'aen n'te. Que'ss aen me dicette, Lydia? Vorsaeke'llan? Aen vaine?"

As the foreign words flowed effortlessly from her lips, Francesca gracefully rose, releasing the smaller hand. Her gaze lingered on the window, and she took feather-light steps toward it. Memories of her father's parting words centuries ago resurfaced, a poignant smile gracing her lips – a smile she never thought she would wear again.

"Dropping a fight has never been in the Daisies nature, not back then when she rebelled against her father, nor this time when she rebels against her own kind and friends," Francesca reflected. Yet, battles awaited her, not only to save her kind from the brink of extinction but also to navigate the intricate threads spun by the black widow Vilgefortz within Lydia's troubled mind.

"Ess'creasa, sor'ca. Va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar."

As the words departed her lips, Francesca rose from her seat, relinquishing the small hand she had held. Her ethereal steps, graceful as a waltz with destiny, carried her toward the window. The room bore witness to her passage, a sanctum of ancient incantations and the weighty realization of destiny's interwoven threads. Her gaze lingered upon the horizon beyond the pane, perhaps drawn by the memories of her father's parting words spoken in a bygone age, and an unanticipated smile played upon her lips.

"Caemm 'ere!" she beckoned, extending her hand toward Lydia, her eyes still fixed on the captivating hues of the sunset. The fields bathed in gold, the mountains turned purple, and life gracefully surrendered to the soothing embrace of rest. However, Francesca couldn't help but question why life should yield when it held so much promise. Centuries had passed, yet she thirsted for the world's adventures, sacrificing life, love, family, and happiness to safeguard her people. The daily sunset over Dol Blathan, where Lara Dorren met her end, served as a poignant reminder that Francesca couldn't embrace death, buried in the comforting veils of darkness.

"Caemm 'ere!" she repeated, turning her head with a smile, inviting Lydia to join her by the window. "You promised to serve me, didn't you? To be loyal, to follow my orders and lead. You claimed I granted too much; now, find a way to repay me. Duettaeánn aef cirrán Cáerme Gláeddyv. You don't have to choose death—for him or anyone else. Ayd f'haeil neén ichaer." The foreign phrases hung in the air, imbued with a mystic resonance that underscored the gravity of the choices that lay ahead.

"Dropping a fight has never been in the Daisy's nature," she repeated now audible, her eyes fixed upon the setting sun that painted the world in hues of gold and purple. "Not when I rebelled against my father, nor now when I stand against my own kin and comrades. Battles within and without, Sor’ca. Va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar." The resonance of her words mingled with the soft rustle of curtains as she extended her hand toward Enid, the window framing a tableau of a world painted in twilight. Life, with all its wonders, seemed to relent in the twilight, yet Francesca, despite the sacrifices made, felt an insatiable yearning for the adventures that still awaited her.

"You have promised to serve me, haven't you? To be loyal, to heed my commands and lead," she reiterated, her head turning towards Lydia once more, a smile playing on her lips. " Then live, break free from the shackles you willingly walked into. Be strong. Be free. No man in this word is worth that. Especially not Garett-" a quick silence stood in the room between them as she blinked cluelessly, once again forgeting the name of unimport things, "you know who I mean." The words echoed, a mantra against the encroaching shadows, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two figures stood framed by the twilight, bound by a tapestry woven with threads of destiny and choice, where the echoes of elder speech reverberated through the ages like whispers carried by the wind. "Live."

[deceitfuldevil]

Dreams

Matt Murdock X Reader

Summary: When you’re plagued with dreams of an unknown man, you can’t help but wonder if he’s more than just a figment of your imagination. You wondered if this man was having these dreams too, and you were curious if he too felt the pull deep inside like you were meant to be together. As it would turn out, you were meant to find each other.

Warnings: lots of dialogue, brief swearing, somewhat of a soulmate AU, and mentions of god.

Word Count: 1.9K

Matt Murdock occasionally tried to remind himself to be grateful for the few years of sight he got before his accident, and because of those nine years that he still had dreams from time to time. Truthfully it was rare, with his vigilante life most of his dreams became nightmares as he feared not being able to do enough for his city. So when he had a dream that wasn’t heartbreaking, it was hard to forget.

Pastel colors glowed and meshed together like a beautiful mix of the universe, it was calming to watch. Then you appeared, looking angelic in contrast to the soft colorful background. He had seen you in more detail than he’d seen anyone in decades. It was more vivid than any dream he’d ever had, you were so real Matt felt he could reach out and touch you.

“All this for me, Matt?” You asked, your voice clear as day as you smiled at the man who was dreaming about you. Your lips curled upwards and he swore he could nearly hear your heartbeat as well. This was all so much, he convinced himself it had to be real and unintentionally woke himself up in the middle of his dream.

Matt woke up heaving, at first trying to look around until everything was merely dark flames again at best.

“I can’t see.” He said solemnly “I still can’t see.” He repeated, flopping backwards back into his bed. But he didn’t catch up on much sleep after that dream, it was all too real for him.

Even when he did have peaceful dreams where he could see again they usually faded from his memory within the first few hours of him waking up. But it’s now been three days since he saw you in his dream and he still hasn’t been able to shake you from his mind.

“Foggy, do we know any forensic artists?” Matt asked, pretending to flip through a case file so Foggy would presume that’s why he was asking.

“Not that I can think of, but I’ll ask Brett.” Foggy said, not really questioning Matt’s curiosity. Until he became persistent, that is. Matt asked every day until Foggy gave him the number of one Casey Kingsman.

“Why are you so desperate for a forensic artist anyways?” Foggy asked, as Matt put on his jacket and got ready to leave.

“It’s for a case.” Matt said, grabbing his cane.

“We just made a deal with our only case a few days ago.” He pointed out

“A personal case.” Matt said, leaving their office without another word. He then went straight down to the police precinct calling Casey and making sure he was free beforehand. Once sitting in a room with him, Mr. Kingsman had a few questions for Matt.

“And what exactly did you call me for?” Casey asked.

“I need a sketch of someone.” Matt explained.

“A suspect?” he presumed.

“Yes, sure.” Matt went along with his presumptions.

“And this is for…?” Casey continued on.

“A case my firm is working on” Matt lied naturally.

“Okay, and who’s coming in to provide the description of the suspect?” He asked

“I’m providing the description.” Mat stately simply, like it was obvious.

“With all due respect Mr…” Casey trailed off.

“Murdock, Matt Murdock.” Matt finished for him.

“Mr. Murdock, how can a blind man provide me with a visual description of a suspect?” Casey asked honesty, maybe a bit brutal even.

Matt was silent for a minute.

“My client has provided me with all the details needed, I am just relaying the message.” He lied again with ease.

“I see… let’s get started then.” Casey said, pulling out his pen and notebook.

As unethical as it might’ve been Matt described you with immense detail to the forensic artist, to the point that made Casey somewhat suspicious because he didn’t think Matt had such a good memory to relay all of these details but he digressed.

“Okay and. . . here you go.” Casey said, ripping the paper from his notebook and handing it to Matt. “You can give this to your client or perhaps a seeing member of your staff to help you identify this suspect.”

“Thank you very much Mr. Kingsman” Matt said, taking the piece of paper and heading home. Even if he couldn’t see the picture he kept the piece of paper in his hands or near his person at all times until the next day when he brought it into the office.

“So how’s that ‘personal case’ going Mr. Murdock?” Foggy joked, noticing Matt had just walked in. But Matt wasted no time and stepped into Foggy’s office and handed him the sketch he had made yesterday. “Have you ever seen this woman?” Matt asked, not bothering with a hello.

“No but I sure as hell would like to meet her, she’s gorgeous! You said this woman is a suspect for a personal case of yours?” Foggy pressed, taking the paper completely from Matt’s grasp.

“She’s gorgeous? Really?” Matt said, heart full with hope.

“Yeah, the only thing I can think she’d be guilty of is stopping a guy's heart.” Foggy pressed on. “What’d she do if we’re on the lookout for her?” He asked again, rephrasing his earlier question.

“Nothing of your concern, can you tell me more details about her?” Matt asked, and Foggy complied telling him every detail he could tell from the drawing. Confirming Matt’s realization that this was the woman from his dreams. You were the woman of his dreams. Now he just had to find you.

Matt spent less nights out being a vigilante and more out with Karen and Foggy, visiting bars and clubs and all around just trying to get out in an effort to find you. He would always ask Foggy if he saw you around, and the answer was always the same.

After about a month or so Matt started to lose hope that you were even real, maybe you were just a figment of his imagination after all. But then you came back to his dreams once more, even more vivid and real than last time.

The last time he saw you in a dream he could make out tiny details of your face and look, but this time he could also distinctly hear your heartbeat and smell your shampoo. You smelled like honey and roses, and looked so stunning he had to focus on not waking up again.

“I’m waiting for you, Matty.” You said, your voice soft and sweet like watermelon on a summer's day. “Come and find me.” You encouraged with a heartwarming smile. Your voice was so unique, just like last time he woke up again and your message was on repeat in his mind. “Come and find me.”

Matt wanted to tell Foggy but he feared him thinking that he’d absolutely lost it, so he kept this whole thing under wraps as he continued to go out in the evenings with his friends in search of you. He started to think it was hopeless since he couldn’t see but he forgot that he remembered other things about you. Like your voice, so unique and sweet it was something he couldn’t ever—

“Oh my god Leila stop it!” You said with a laugh, nudging your friend who had just shot a straw wrapper your way. Matt zeroed in on your voice, he couldn’t believe that it was you. There was no way.

“It’s a gift!” Your friend insisted.

“Yeah that and the other 4 you’ve blown at me.” You said with an eye roll.

“So what do you have to say to me? A thank you might be in order for all I’ve given you.” Leila joked on, pushing the pile of straw wrappers your way.

“All this for me? You shouldn’t have.” You said “no, really, you shouldn’t have.” Making Matt freeze up in his place, he reached out for Foggy who was nursing a beer next to him.

“Is that her?” He asked out of context.

“What?” Foggy asked, setting his drink down.

“The woman from the sketch, over there at the bar laughing with her friend. Is that her?” Foggy was able to provide the last bit of confirmation Matt needed to know it was you, he could already hear your steady heartbeat and smell your rose and vanilla shampoo.

“Holy shit, it is! Should we call someone? What did she, hey what are you doing?!” Foggy said, but Matt was already making his way over to you.

But once he got over there, he didn’t know what to say.

“Uh, hi? Can we help you?” Your friend asked, prompting you to turn around to see the man behind you. You were now the one to freeze up.

“Hi uh my name is…”

“Matt.” You finished, feeling your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

“Uh yeah, hi. What?” Your friend pressed on, tapping your shoulder encouraging you to look back at her.

“This is him, the man I’ve been dreaming about Leila.” You said, giving her a look that asked her kindly to leave you two alone. She took the hint and left, not before giving you a wink though.

“How uh, how did you find me?” You asked, turning back around and taking the sight that was Matt Murdock in for yourself.

“It wasn’t easy, especially considering I can’t see you. But I uh, I had a sketch made. I could also hear your voice, I recognized it.” Matt said, setting his cane up against the bar.

“That’s funny because I kept having these dreams of this man, but I could never see him. Only hear his voice, and smell his cologne. I kept dreaming every night like I had lost my sight.” You explained, realizing his disadvantage.

“Huh, all of my dreams, the main thing that I knew about you was your good looks. You were all I’ve dreamt about for weeks.” Matt said, a soft smile on his face.

“I think this is the most clear sign the universe has ever given me.” You said with a slight chuckle. “I’m y/n.” You said, heart full from joy and admiration.

“And I think that you’re a gift from God himself. I’m Matt, but you clearly already knew that.” He said cheekily, taking your hand in his.

“Well Matt, I think we might just be made for one another.” You said, pushing aside usual boundaries and pulling Matt in for a kiss.

“That’s fine by me sweetheart.” He said right as he pressed his lips to yours. Sealing a fate the universe worked so hard for.

—

A/N

Since finishing daredevil (and losing my job, but we won’t talk about that) I’ve been pouring out Matt fics like crazy. I only finished two days ago (writing this 01/27/22) but my mind is rampant with many ideas, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. I imagine by the time I post this I will have surpassed 300 followers (currently at 293) so thank you all very much for that. Once again, thank you all for reading!

Update from 3/1/22, obviously I’m still pouring out Matt fics like mad. I’ve also surpassed 400 followers at the time of writing this, which is insane and makes me so happy. Still jobless but maybe that’s a good thing since I’ve gotten more experience in the world and been able to be more active on here.

Much Love,

—Skyler

[xxlost-cityxx]

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

Ship/Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki

TW/CW: Rough anal sex, virgin Katsuki Bakugou, slight choking, slight piss kink/bladder control, brief spanking, rimming, bottom Katsuki, dom Kirishima, begging, crying, anal fingering, degredation and praise

I posted this on Ao3 literally last night, so enjoy.

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

Stupid fucking Kirishima with his stupid fucking face and stupid fucking body-

Again. Once-a-fucking-gain. Katsuki was hard at work. Kirishima had simply aided Katsuki in a surprisingly powerful villain attack- even though everyone knew Dynamight had it under control. But Eijirou's help...made it easier to take down the villain- NOT that Katsuki needed his help in the first place. 

The villain landed a hit on Katsuki and he flew into a pile of concrete and wooden rubble, and the next thing he saw was Red Riot, unhardened, nearly body slamming the guy into a wall, digging his forearm and elbow into his neck and his knee between his legs. It looked painful for the villain and it looked like Ejirou was definitely holding back from completely crushing the dude's balls...But. The way Kirishima was looking at the guy, a stone cold face, a deadly glare he hasn't seen since the last time Eijirou had heard Monama talk back in U.A. He was mad. And Gods if that sight didn't make him pop a boner-

So now here he was. Virgin Katsuki pretending he was too good to be around all his druken friends who were surely getting laid tonight, meanwhile, all Katuski would do tonight is ride his dildo until the sun came up. 

Bakugou couldn't jack off. It wasn't really a fact, but he's pretty sure that any man would avoid jacking off with even a small risk that you might blow your own dick off, especially if you were gay. Gods bless the prostate. And really, it takes forever to cum riding 6 inches of colored silicone without touching your dick, but the point was, it got the job done and no one knew his secret to having 'thunder thighs' or some shit. He still remembers the first interveiwer who asked about his leg day routine, stating that he had entranced everyone with his thighs or some shit. He never thought he'd be referred to as 'thick' or whatever it was.

He took another shot of vodka, ignoring the pestering jealousy as he watched Kirishima dance with Denki. It was obviously platonic, not only did they repeatedly state in multible interviews that they were 'strictly bromance' and that they liked fucking with their fans's minds, Denki was dating Dead Eyes and Earphones. 

Bakugou wasn't even a little tipsy really, it took a lot to get him drunk. It took a lot to get any of them drunk, but that didn't stop anyone from trying. But Bakugou wasn't going to go home drunk and have drunken masturbation for 5 hours, never was his thing. So he'd stick to being sober for tonight. 

He growled as Kirishima's hand was on Denki's hip, Kaminari's back against Eijirou's chest. The much smaller blonde wiggled his hips against Kirishima's surely soft dick. Sero and Mina were laughing their asses off from their seats, Denki smirking and trying to be as dramatic and intimate as he could, a few phones recording them. 

Katsuki growled to himself, slamming the shot glass on the bar top so hard it slightly cracked. He stood up and grabbed his coat, oblivious to how red eyes quickly switched from watching the smiling and laughing faces of his friends to laser focused on the ash blonde in a split second. 

As Katsuki left the bar, he grumbled to himself until he was outside his place. 

An hour later, he was panting. It felt like his entire body was covered in lube by the time he was bouncing on the silicone properly. He frowned, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the head bump into his prostate with practiced movements, usually a feeling that would have him gasping and shuttering, but he wanted this cock to be Kirishima's. He was sick and tired of riding an inanimate object that didn't praise him, didn't make noise, didn't cum. He wanted to be pinned and fucked so hard he would have to call off work the next day.

He whimpered as his toned thighs easily let him travel up and down the silicone. Silicone. He couldn't even get himself hard, he was soft, even with his ass stuffed and his prostate stimulated, he was soft. There wasn't a twitch, and even his prostate felt dull. 

He groaned to himself, sliding off the dildo and reaching for his phone. He quickly unlocked it and pulled up his gallery with his singular 'clean' finger, quickly going to his hidden folder and clicking on the picture that always got him hard. Kirishima did a photoshoot nearly 6 months ago, he was in a kimono that was completely opened with white pants that banded to his stomach. He stared at Katsuki through the picture, a belt in his big, tanned hand. He already felt his cock harden slightly, a small frown painting his face as that was like a weak attempt at mimicking his usual reaction to the picture. 

He slid back on the dildo propping his phone against his wall and started bouncing. He imagined those toned hands sliding against his back, barely touching him, and it was almost like he could feel it, his body twitching with slight interest. He imagined his voice, telling him to ride the dildo, training his hole for what was surely a monster cock, Eijirou too nice to let Katsuki destroy himself on his cock right off the bat...unless… What if he would just fuck him? And that got his reaction. His dick was fully hard now, but it wasn't aching with need like usual. 

What if Eijirou would slam into him as soon as the dildo was out? Would he let Katsuki adjust, or would he pound him into oblivion with the raw power his body held? 

He let out a moan, but the pleasure didn't last long as his phone started ringing. He nearly flinched, scowling at his phone for ruining what he worked hard for, but his face sofened as it was Kirishima calling him. 

His mouth went dry, his eyes slightly wide. He doesn't know what really compelled him to answer the phone, but as Kirishima's voice rang through the other end, he couldn't help but bite his lip and shift on the dildo. "W-What do you need, Dumbass?" He asked, cursing himself for starting his sentence off weak. "Haha- Hey, Kat! I just wanted to made sure you were okay. You hit that rubble pretty hard today, and you left earlier than usual." His cheery, sober, voice said. Katsuki closed his eyes, slowly rolling his hips up the dildo, the familiar arousal burning in his stomach, finally. 

He stifled a whimper, "M' fine, Shitty Hair…." He pretended to grumble out, desperate to think of something to keep him on the line as long as possible. "That's great! I was a little worried, y'know. Didn't want to lose the manliest man I've even known since highschool!" He said, and Bakugou's heart did a mixture of dropping and fluttering. He felt guilty for trying to get off to his voice, clearly ignorant and innocent, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that he didn't refer to him as his best friend which would usually put him down. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his hips, gasping as he accidentally his his prostate. He dropping the phone, slapping a hand over his face. "Katsuki!? What was that?" Kirishima urgently called. Bakugou's dick was on fire, his body was alight with arousal, if only Kirishima knew. 

He hesitantly picked up the phone. "I'm f-fine~ Shitty Hair!" He replied, cursing himself for not stopping himself from slowly bouncing on the dildo again. 

Silence. 

He slightly wondered if he accidentally hung up, but there was still static. "I'm not stupid, Katsuki." Kirishima suddenly said. Bakugou froze. His voice was lower but soft, almost like he was hesitant to say it in the first place. "W-..What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, not daring to move on the dildo, even though he wanted to take advantage of Kirishima's tone so fucking bad. 

"Are you getting off right now?" Kirishima asked, Bakugou suddenly became aware of how slick and schelchy the lube was. Bakugou's throat closed up, his mouth too dry to produce words. "Fuck…" Kirishima whispered, the sound making Bakugou's eyes widen. "Are you trying to fuck with me…?" He asked, but Bakugou wasn't deaf to the distant sound of Kirishima nearly break checking himself. 

Bakugou whimpered quietly, but a part of him prayed that Kirishima heard him, and as his breath hitched over the phone, he knew he did. 

"Fuck-" Kirishima groaned. Bakugou gasped at the sound, bouncing on the plastic lightly once again, the lewd noises surely reaching the phone. "C-Come over." Bakugou's stern voice said, once again sounding weak in the beginning. "Already on my way." Kirishima nearly whispered back. 

Bakugou's body was on fire, every part of him was twitching. The call ended only a minute ago, and suddenly Bakugou's night was going to change who he was. He was hard, nervous, excited but horny above all else. As soon as he heard his front door open and nearly slam shut, Bakugou gasped, trying to let out his nerves. Heavy, fast footsteps made their way down his halls, and suddenly Bakugou was conscious about how he should present himself. 

He didn't have time, and so he let himself be cocky, leaning forward on his hands, arching his back and rolling his hips on the silicone gracefully, and it probably looked a little too good based on how smooth the action felt. But he didn't have room for his usual pride, Kirishima was stuck in the doorway with his mouth slightly open and wide eyes. Bakugou looked at him in the mirror to his side, and his eyes were staring at him. 

"Holy fuck.." He groaned, his hand slowly moving to his crotch, but he gripped the inside of his thigh. Mid. Thigh. 

Bakugou's eyes widened as he finally had the rough sketch of Eijirou's cock in his mind, and fuck he wanted to go stupid with cock. 

"C'mon…" Bakugou nearly whimpered, rolling his hips a little more dramatically. Kirishima groaned in the doorway, slowly walking into the room, Bakugou's position giving him the perfect view of his pink, glistening and stretched hole swallowing the silicone easily, the dildo's girth seemed pathetic to what Eijirou knew he had. 

Eijirou knelt down behind him, and as Katsuki smiled, expecting him to caress his body, that didn't happen. 

Kirishima quickly wrapped his hand around the smaller man's throat, yanking him back to meet his still clothed chest. Bakugou wheezed at the unexpected and sudden movement, but fuck if his own cock didn't love it already. 

"Riding this pathetic dildo while I was out there concerned about you, hm?" He darkly whispered, his finger tips lightly digging into his neck. Bakugou whimpered, wiggling his hips back, trying to get a feel for the man's clothed cock for himself. Kirishima sighed, almost in disappointment. "Tell me.. What were you thinking about? Riding this pathetic excuse of a dildo." He asked, talking right into Bakugou's ear. Bakugou let out a stuttering breath, squirming in Kirishima's sturdy grip. 

"Tell me." 

Bakugou gasped at his dark tone paired with his hand gripping his entire neck roughly. He wasn't used to feeling so small compared to someone else, but fuck he was loving it. 

"Y-You…" Bakugou gasped out as Kirishima loosened his grip just enough. "What about me..?" He asked, only slightly softer. 

Katsuki's cock was aching, begging for the same attention Eijirou was giving his throat. "H-How hard you would fuck me- How big your cock is…" Bakugou finally admitted, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Kirishima hummed in his ear, his hand moving to the back of Bakugou's neck instead and pulling him up to his feet. Bakugou let out a guttural moan as he was ripped off the dildo still suctioned to the floor. 

Kirishima hummed, noting how the dildo really did look like a pathetic version of himself. 

Kirishima dragged Bakugou to his bed, glaring at the blonde when he tried to move. He pulled off his own shirt and pants quickly before joining him on the bed. Bakugou's eyes quickly widened at the sight, his mouth slightly open and his face slightly filled with fear and shock, but quickly replaced with determination. "Better fucking prep me, asshole." Bakugou spit out, laying on his back. 

He didn't expect Kirishima's rough nature to continue though. Eijirou glared at Bakugou before swiftly gripping his neck and pinning him further into the mattress. "Excuse you? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to right now? Order me around again, I fucking dare you." Kirishima spit out a look of fake disgust on his face. Bakugou was shocked by the moan that left him, more than happy with his decisions from tonight, at least so far. 

He yelped as Kirishima's hand left his neck and grabbed his hips instead. Kirishima pulled his ass into the air, Bakugou's legs spreading automatically, falling to almost meet his chest. "W-What are you gonna do?" Bakugou asked, eyes wide with arousal. "None of your fucking buisness." Kirishima spit out, digging his thumbs into the stretched pink muscle. Bakugou gasped as Eijirou pulled his rim apart, testing just how stretched he was. 

Bakugou saw his cock when he took off his pants, the way it weighed itself down, how his fingertips would definetly have trouble touching each other, and the fucking length- he wondered if Kirishima would actually show through his stomach…

As Kirishima added a finger to stretch and play with his rim, he decided to take down the roughness, only for a couple seconds though. "Use the traffic light system, okay?" He almost ordered, wanting to keep the same sexual energy but also let Bakugou know there was a safe way out. Bakugou's breath stuttered and he quickly nodded, having read enough fanfiction about being fucked by Kirishima and having done enough research to know something as simple as the traffic light system, and he's so fucking green.

Bakugou didn't expect a tongue to enter him though.

Bakugou nearly shouted, gripping at the sheets before pathetically trying to reach for the other man's head. "N-No!" Bakugou shouted, but it was moan filled and an empty request. Kirishima's eyes shifted to Bakugou, lapping his tongue over the blonde's rim before softly shoving it inside as far as he could. 

Bakugou was squirming around at the foregin feeling, gasping every time he moved his tongue, it felt so warm, soft and perfectly wet. 

Kirishima took his mouth away, licking his lips as he roughly slammed 3 fingers into the unsuspecting hole. He quickly spread them as far as he could, Bakugou's gasp turning into a pained moan. As Kirishima softly stroked his slightly pulsing insides, Bakugou was panting with wide eyes. "Beg." Kirishima ordered darkly, jamming his fingers into Bakugou as far as he could, hitting his prostate hard. 

Bakugou moaned out, caving in on himself because of how Kirishima held his ass up. But he wouldn't beg. 

After a few seconds of soft finger thrusting and no begging, Kirishima picked up the pace, slipping one of his fingers out, knowing Katsuki won't like the lack of fullness anymore. He jams his fingers into his prostate every time, Bakugou's eyes nearly crossing as he tries to arch his back but just keeps caving in on himself. 

"Fucking. Beg." "F-Fuck you.." Bakugou responds, his voice shakey, the defiance fake and fragile. Kirishima's eyes narrow, a frown forming on his lips. "Fine." He replies, shifting one hand to Bakugou's abdomen and pressing, pleased with the slight fullness under a specific layer of muscle. He continued to slam into his g-spot, Bakugou's eyes widening and getting slightly watery. "W-Wait-!" Bakugou moaned out loud, slight panic coating his oh so beautiful face. The tip of his penis kept rubbing against Kirishima's arm, and he knew so much stimulation was working against him. He was either going to beg or piss himself. 

"S-Stop! Too much- T-Too fucking much! I have to go you f-fuckkk-ing lunatic!" He moaned out, grabbing at Kirishima's arms. "Beg. Beg for me to fuck you, or you're going to piss yourself, get your clean sheets dirty, all unsatisfied and embarrassed. Poor little Katsuki couldn't hold his little blatter while I fucked you with my fingers." Eijirou cooed, tiliting his head a little before bending down and licking along the back of his thigh to the crease of his ass. He travels up to his sack and licks him firmly with the flat of his tongue. 

Katsuki screams.

His clawing becomes frantic, and he's sure he's sobbing, but he's no match for even Kirishima's strength. "N-No! Ei- Stop! I-I'm gonna pee!" Katsuki cries, thrashing around as much as he can. But as Eijirou gently sucks in one of his balls, his resolve snaps. "Please! Please, please, please!" Katsuki finally cries, Eijirou's fingers slowing down and his hand letting up on his blatter. He moves away from Katsuki's cock and smirks down at the red and teary face below him. 

"Please what?" He asks, Bakugou's eyes widening. "P...Please… Please fuck me… I want you to fuck me with your fat cock!" He cries, tears falling from his eyes. 

Eijirou sighs, content with his work. "Good boy~" He coos, swiftly plunging 2 more fingers inside and spreading them. Katsuki gasps, looking up at Kirishima who refuses to look away from his face. 

As Kirishima slowly pulls out, he bends over and grabs the lube from the floor, popping open the cap and pouring it into Katsuki. He flinches and wines at how cold it is, and Eijirou just travels the bottle to his cock, rubbing his hand over it and coating everything with lube. 

As he sloppily closes the bottle, he moves Katsuki onto his stomach, Bakugou groaning as he was finally out of that horrid position. 

Kirishima places the tip at his entrance, kissing Bakugou's nape, and right as Bakugou prepares for a dreadfully slow slide. Kirishima slams into the hilt. Bakugou's eyes shoot wide and his thrusted up further into the bed with the force, his mouth dropping open as a horrid moan filled scream leaves him. 

This is it….he's not a virgin anymore…

He feels nothing but cock, painfully perfect cock that makes it hard to breathe.

Kirishima groans at the tight feeling, his body shaking as he convinces himself not to fuck Katsuki into oblivion. 

Eijirou starts off slow, dragging his cock out halfway before pressing in again, the pace making them both groan. God, Katsuki's back tooks so fucking pretty all arched like that, delicate but strong all in one. He always knew Bakugou would look so pretty with his face burried in sheets, his ass high in the air and filled with his cock. 

He feels himself slipping, his thrusts slipping into violent, angry lust every so often before he catches himself quickly. 

But as Katsuki's sweet moans keep reaching his ears, he finally gives in, grabbing Katsuki's wrists and pulling them back, lifting Katsuki off the bed and using his wrists as leverage, pulling his weak body back onto his cock as he slams his hips into the man's ass. 

"Holy fucking shit~" Bakugou's voice calls out as Kirishima's thrusts get rougher, violent. His voice bounced with the thrusts, his moans cutting each other off as Kirishima no longer cares about hitting the man's prostate, pounding into him purely for selfish pleasure Bakugou didn't know he was capable of. 

"Fucking pathetic cocksleeve- Such a fucking whore for dick, huh? You fucking-love! -taking my fat cock like this!" Kirishima spits out, pulling on Katsuki's wrists harder. Bakugou's eyes are crossing, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

'Ruining me-'

"Not a single thought going through that head of yours, huh? Just taking my cock so good like this, loving how I ruin every other cock out there for you! Only my cock can make you cum, can make you feel so fucking good!" "Y-Yes~" Bakugou's broken voice cries out, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

The bed is slamming into the wall so hard the pictures are rattling, and Bakugou can't register anything but cock, pleasure, Kirishima and cumming. 

"So fucking good, so~ fUCKing go-od~" Bakugou sobs, not caring of the searing pain in his arms and shoulder blades. But as Kirishima angles his hips, he starts slamming into Bakugou's prostate, and as Bakugou tries to arch in Kirishima's hold, he cums. He clamps around his cock so hard Kirishima moans, letting go of Katsuki's arms and letting him fall face first into the bed as his entire body rocks with unbroken thrusts, shaking with the ongoing orgasm that never seems to end. Eijirou hears the sobbing and groans with pleasure, swinging his hand down to Bakugou's ass, growling as he watches the muscle and fat ripple with the perfect impact. 

Kirishima puts his hands in the curve of Katsuki's spine, pressing him down and shifting forward, slightly sitting back on his calves as he jackhammers into Bakugou's swollen, red and oh so fucking soft boy cunt. 

Katsuki is screaming but it's so distant to Eijirou, all he can hear is the squelching of his ass and all he can think of is cumming. 

"FUCK- EIJIROU~" Katsuki screams, sobbing and begging for him to slow down, not to thrust so hard, not to be so brutal. He can't feel his limbs, all he can feel is the overstimulation as his body is pounded so hard he inches forward on his bed, only to be pulled back just as quickly. He feels like a cocksleeve because he is one. 

Kirishima groans, finally slamming into Katsuki with all he has, his cock pulsing inside Bakugou almost like a slow vibrator. As Kirishima completely fills Katsuki's intestines with cum, his own cock spurts out a pathetic amount of it's own cum, his balls drawing up tight and his cock twitching with painful interest. 

Kirishima and Bakugou are panting, and as Eijirou gives another overstimulated thrust for good measure, the both moan out. 

"F-Fuck…." Kirishima groans, Katsuki panting into the sheets with wide, tired eyes. 

He really did ruin Katsuki's chances at fucking anyone else. There's no way he can go back to toys, and there's no way he can fuck anyone else.

[gutsybitsies]

This is pnr-ISH in that there’s really only pride and prejudice on one side. because bitty’s a total Jane. 

Bitty was busy writing a letter back to his cousin. Lardo had enclosed such a pretty sketch of the sunset from home. It was thundering and windy outside, and he wondered if the delicate buds in the garden would survive. Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang. 

Maybe Connor returned early with Marianne? Bitty grabbed two towels and hurried to the door, ready to throw those over their shoulders. Instead of his cousin, he saw Jack Zimmermann standing in the doorway. His tall frame darkened it and he had clearly not anticipated the storm. 

“Mr. Zimmermann!” Bitty exclaimed. “Come in, come in. Let me brew up a spot of tea for you, and here, have a towel!” 

He herded Jack Zimmermann into the parlor, and went about setting up for him. This may not be his home, but Bitty will be damned if he let someone be soggy and miserable in his presence. Even if that person was Jack Zimmermann, who didn’t seem to like him much. 

“Now Marianne still hasn’t come back from whatever business she has, and I don’t see her allowing Connor to come back without her. I’ve received such a nice little sketch from my sister, Larissa. You remember her, I hope,” He rambled. “Let me go fetch that in a bit, but you go ahead and help yourself to some warm tea and dry your hair off. And I’m sure that Marianne won’t mind me searching for some suitable garments for you while yours dry off, she’s quite in awe of your aunt. Now that I think about it, she’ll be downright displeased if I don’t offer you a change of clothing.” 

Jack remained silent, before blurting, “How are you? I heard you fell down.”  

Surprised, Bitty smiled and rolled his ankle around. “Oh, it healed pretty much in one day. It wasn’t broken or fractured at all, just swollen.” 

“Good.” Jack was quiet again. 

“Now let me just get those dry clothes for you-”

“No need,” He said abruptly. Jack stopped. “I’m.” He started, then stopped again. 

He stood up abruptly, and walked straight towards Bitty, then decided to change his course and instead went to the side, then paced the room from side to side. 

“This is very hard for me to say,” he said. Jack Zimmermann finally stopped, this time in front of Bitty, and took a deep breath. “I have the deepest affections for you.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Bitty squeaked. He took a step backwards. Jack Zimmermann was certainly a handsome fellow, and that look in his eyes...Bitty would swoon over him any day. But Jack had never expressed other than disinterest or disdain towards him. Bitty always tried to think the best of most people, and even he thought that sometimes Jack was excessively grumpy for no reason. 

“This has been torturing me,” Jack continued. “I can’t tell whether or not you’re attracted to me, you are so free in your expression. The one moment I think a smile was directed at me alone, I find you coquettishly laughing with another person. Of course I understand your aim, you wish to gain some measure of nobility that your family lacks through marriage with me. Otherwise how can your family's waning dignity and fortune ever lay claim to any sort of honor? And your mother no doubt has input in your head everything to do with taking the path paved easily to better fortunes and standing, to seduce men like me.

And yet I fall for it! So you win. You’ve had my affections since the beginning, and it has only grown stronger. I look at you and I can’t tear my eyes away. My ears seek your voice, my fingers itch for- well. I’ve tried to rid myself of these feelings, because I know that you are exactly the type of shallow that I shun, but I can’t. So you’ve won, and I’m here asking for your hand in marriage.” 

He waited patiently for Bitty’s “yes,” but it didn’t come. The other man stood, as if frozen in surprise. A blush made its way up to his rosy cheeks, the ones that Jack longed to caress and kiss. 

Bitty took another step back, and Jack took a step forward into his space. 

That’s when Bitty burst into tears. 

Jack panicked. “I-I know that this news is good but you don’t have to cry. Happy or not tears shouldn’t fall-” 

“No!” Bitty turned and ran out of the room. He stopped at the entrance to the parlor, and turned back to Jack. 

“It would be a lie if I told you that I’d never entertained thoughts about you,” Bitty said, his eyes trained on the ground, his tears, motivated by fear and surprise, dripping down his face. He refused to look up at Jack. “I’ve always tried to find the best in you, because no one who’s such good friends with Mr. Knight can be a bad person! And you’ve shown adequate politeness over the past few days, but now I see the kind of person you truly are. Was I really as coquettish with other people, or were you just disappointed that I wasn’t directing all my attention to you, even if you had given me no cause to? Because I have never, ever exceeded beyond what is polite and appropriate, and I’m sure that in more detailed recollections you will find no instance where I have behaved irresponsibly.

‘And Lardo was right about you. You hold yourself above all overs, you act as if just by speaking with me you’re extending some sort of honor. All those-those nasty words you said about my family! Did you think that I would swoon into your arms after you insulted the people I love and hold closest to my heart” Bitty’s eyes were drying now as he calmed down, and his breath evened out. “Now bless your heart, but please see yourself out.” 

Jack made his way out, and stopped in front of Bitty, but took a step back when Bitty flinched at his closeness. 

“I only spoke the truth about our circumstances.” He said, softly, afraid to raise his voice in fear of Bitty crying again. “Surely you-”

“Then that must mean that it’s destined we can never be together.” Bitty interrupted, his voice still weak from shock. “Not when I’m clearly a money grabbing shallow thing and when you’re too noble, too rich, and too good for my ilk.” 

Bitty turned away, and didn’t see how Jack left, but the door wasn’t slammed and he had heard slow measured footsteps walking away. 

He remembered the first time he saw Jack, he was blown away at how handsome Jack was. They had one dance, where Jack was silent and gloomy as Bitty tried to make small talk. That was the majority of Jack’s interactions with him. Silent, sulking, staring at him occasionally like Bitty had wronged him. And yet Jack had never caused him harm or discomfort before, so Bitty was happy to defend him against Lardo’s sharp words and criticisms.

And now Bitty couldn’t get Jack out of his mind. Jack, who loved him. Jack, who hated his family. Jack, who saw him as someone as low as dirt. He had no love for Jack in his heart, and yet Bitty felt the ghost of a heartbreak, telling him that he was this close to being torn apart by the harsh words of someone he could’ve loved so so much. 

The next day, as he was taking a walk in the gardens, he saw Jack pacing around. When Jack saw him, he looked determined and walked towards Bitty. 

Bitty froze, unsure of what to do. He wished to turn tail and run, but his politeness kept him rooted to his place. 

“Good morning, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty said.

“Good morning, Mr. Bittle.” Jack shoved a letter into his hands. “I’ve been here for a while waiting for you. Please read this.” Then he paused, as if he wanted to say something, before he gave a curt nod and left. 

I apologize deeply for what I have said about your family, and what I have said about you. This is my apology to you, a letter of vindication for your shame (for now I see I have shamed you yesterday). You were right, I was enthralled in my own emotions, by my own jealousy. I have shamed you unrightfully, and now I have cast shame upon myself. 

I understand that you may not wish to see me ever again, and I promise you that I will cease to seek you out. 

Bitty folded the letter, and sighed. Jack’s words when he proposed, although they were rude, were true. Jack would in fact be lowering himself to marry him. All Bitty had to inherit was the meager Bittle estate, mere pennies compared to what Jack had, and it was true, he had little in strategies for keeping his family estate and standing at its height.

If Jack hadn’t been ashamed of him, Bitty thought, he would’ve married him. Bitty thought about handsome Jack and his handsome eyes and sighed. But if he accepted Jack’s proposal, then all Bitty would have for the rest of his life would be churlish words thrown at him, expectations for him to kiss his husband’s feet every day, and snide words about his family flung every day...

Jack Zimmermann was facing a crisis.

“I don’t have to come with you.” 

“Yes, you do!” Shitty said. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lardo and honestly it’s time. I’ve sent a letter to her father already, and I need you as moral support. A man can only propose to the person he loves once.” 

Jack felt even lower, if that was possible. “Yes, that’s true. Just the one time.” 

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not raising a fuss about this. You used to be firmly against the Duangs and their relatives.” Shitty said. “You were trying to convince me to give up on Lardo and that her family wouldn’t be worth the hassle.” 

Jack groaned. “Don’t remind me.” 

“What happened?” Shitty looked concerned. 

“I can’t tell you as this involves another person. But I’ve learned my lesson,” Jack replied. “If you love Lardo, and you feel she loves you back, you should lay your heart bare.” 

“Woah,” Shitty said. “What happened to the cynical Jack Zimmermann? I like this new person! You’re coming with me and sharing the greatest moment of my life.”

“Ugh.” Jack buried his face in a couch pillow, thinking about having to face Eric Bittle again. The thought of Eric Bittle disliking him had struck such a terrible, miserable chord inside him, and Jack knew that if he comes to the Duang Estate with Shitty, then Eric Bittle would probably outright hate him. Or worse, he’d be afraid of Jack. He couldn’t bear causing Bittle pain, but apparently that was just his lot in life. Jack Zimmermann, the one who causes misery to the one he loves.

“I’m cutting this visit short and heading back home,” Jack said, getting up. “I’m going to check up on Ford, and I’m going to stay there until after you propose.” 

“Aww, you miss your sis,” Shitty said. “Go and spend some time with her, but I’ll be personally arriving to your estate to drag you with me.”

Jack just shrugged and left. 

When he arrived back, his housekeeper greeted him and informed him that there were some visitors on the estate.They were currently strolling through the gardens. It would only be polite for him to quickly greet them, before fucking off back inside so he can listen to Ford sing and think about where he’d gone wrong. 

Jack headed to the garden, and he saw a peppy couple cooing over the statues and finely manicured bushes, before a figure trailing behind them caught his eyes. 

He’d never thought that he would see Eric Bittle again. He spent so much time going over what went wrong with Mr. Bittle, he had to stop himself over and over again from going to him to bother him about it. 

[chasingpj]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha. 

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

  @mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos. 

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.  

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok? 

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished. 

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways. 

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing? 

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out. 

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”. 

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

[sevendeadlymorons]

hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

——————————————————

Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)

[novaiya]

The Girl from the North Country - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: While snooping through Arthur's journal, Karen finds a portrait of a woman who draws her attention. After being caught and reprimanded for her actions, she can’t help but ask who the woman was. Just the mention of her portrait puts Arthur years in the past, right to the very night the two shared.

Words: 3,229

Warnings: F!Reader

A/N: When describing how Reader and Arthur met, the Reader will be referred to in third person (she/her), but when the main action and smut starts, it'll be back to second person (you)

It was not uncommon for Karen to take a peek into Arthur’s journal from time to time. Despite Arthur being protective of his journal, the only place in the world where he could be himself, he couldn’t always keep it on him. Sometimes when he went to bathe in a river nearby, or when he was doing chores around the camp, he would leave it in his satchel in his tent. He trusted his fellow gang members to not snoop around his belongings. The temptation to get a close look into the mind of the stoic gunslinger, however, was too much for Karen, so she would occasionally sneak a peek into it. She would find everything from doodles of animals to portraits of people to sketches of towns and forests. Some pages were filled with tales of the gang’s excursions, the gruesome details of their doings could rival those in crime novels that Hosea read from time to time. Others were filled with more mellow and intimate details of Arthur’s life, and despite being curious, Karen often skipped those, feeling as if reading those pages would cross an imaginary line she set for herself.

On one of these occasions, when she was flipping through the pages of Arthur’s journal as if through a newspaper, she came upon a portrait of a woman. It was the most detailed, carefully drawn picture out of all she has seen Arthur draw in his journal so far. The woman’s hair was spread over her head like a halo, and her unclothed bosom was thrusted upward, making it seem like she was in the midst of taking a gulp of air. Her eyes looked hazy, drowned in pleasure as they looked out from the pages of the journal, and Karen could feel herself grow embarrassed under the mystery woman’s stare.

“What are you doing?” Arthur’s gravel voice sounded behind her, and before she had a chance to say or do anything, the journal was pulled from her hands.

A wave of embarrassment and guilt came over her, and she could feel her face grow hot in seconds. She stammered for a few moments, trying to gather her courage, but no words came; she couldn’t defend herself, for she was clearly at fault.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said as she kept her eyes on the ground, too ashamed to look at Arthur.

Arthur didn’t reply. He moved past the girl to his cot where he satchel laid. He picked it up and put his journal in it before dropping it back on his cot.

“Enjoyed the reading material?” Arthur said with clear mockery in his voice. A mix of anger and embarrassment filled him. He felt very exposed, knowing that someone read through the pages he thought he was safe in. The journal was the only thing in the world to know the real Arthur Morgan. Everything that happened to him throughout the years, good and bad, was recorded there. Sometimes he felt that there was more of him in the journal than there was in himself.

“Arthur, I’m sorry!” Karen cried as Arthur walked away, back to his chores. He didn’t turn around at her voice, so she ran up to him. “Please, Arthur,” she said, bringing her hand to his shoulder to turn him to face her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

As he looked at her, he could see tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He was still angry, still disappointed and upset at her for what she did, but he found himself feeling bad for her, and angry at himself for being the cause of her tears. He shook his head before enveloping the girl in his arms, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

The two of them were back in his tent, with Karen still apologizing to Arthur, and the latter assuring her that it truly was all right. Finally, after some time, when Karen felt back to herself, she sheepishly asked, “Who was that woman?” She knew that she was pushing her luck by asking such a question after what she’s done, but she couldn’t help it. The image of the woman hasn’t left her mind since she saw it, and she knew there must be an exciting story to accompany an equally exciting picture.

He didn’t need to be shown the picture, he knew instantly which she was talking about. Karen watched Arthur after asking the question, and she could see that the mention of it put a certain look into his eyes. Just the mention of her image could put him years into the past, right to the very night they shared. Sometimes, the memory felt like it was from another lifetime; yet he could always remember it with fine details, from the feelings of her skin against his own, to the smell of her hair and the warmth of her breath.

.

Arthur paused in surprise. The woman across the room stood leaning against the wall, one of her hands in her pants pocket, the other holding a shot glass. The air around her was thick with ease and independence and it seemed that everyone around was affected. The men who sat not far from her were turning their heads, trying to catch a glimpse of her face from under the brim of her hat. The barmen tried, and failed, to serve the patrons and keep his eye on the mystery woman at the same time. The woman in question though seemed to either not be aware of the effect she had on people, or didn’t care. As Arthur pushed past the saloon doors, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes, and he too, fell prey to her stare.

Despite being a grown man, he felt like a school boy as he tried to muster up the courage and introduce himself to the woman who seemed to have a strong hold over everyone in the establishment. As he downed a shot of whiskey, ready to make his advance, the woman was already by his side, introducing herself with easy and grace that enchanted him for years to come. The two spent a few hours together, getting to know each other. She was a bounty hunter, traveling from state to state in search of adventure and excitement. Each little bit of information that she fed him only made him hunger for more, and he felt that he will never be satiated.

The two promised to meet again, and that they did. On more than a few occasions, Arthur accompanied her to one of her bounty hunts, helping her despite both of them knowing that she could manage alone. What started as accidental meetings soon turned into planned ones, and a few times the two even went on jobs together, robbing coaches and homesteads. The time they spent together did nothing but make her hold over him stronger. Whenever he was away from her, he found that she was still with him, filling his mind with images of herself and the sound of her voice.   Everything about her attracted him, from how different she was to any person he’s met before, to her effortless smile and to her beautiful name. He was caught in the gravity of her and he let it take over. Realizing that he didn’t want to count the days until their every meeting, a silly, boyish idea popped into his head that he knew he had to ask her the next time they met.

“I told you Arthur, I can’t,” you said as you jolted from the chair you were sitting not a moment ago, shaking your hand and walking over to a window on the other side.

He followed you right away and said, “Well why not?” and motioned around with his hands. You turned around to look at him, holding his gaze for a moment, seeing the fierceness and passion in his eyes that threatened to burn his cornea out. The two of you have been arguing for the last ten minutes. After yet another successful coach robbery, you went back to your hotel room to relax and celebrate the winnings. As you shared drinks and conversations with each other, Arthur was gathering the strength to ask you something that he’s been meaning to for the past few weeks.

“Would you want to come back with me, to my gang?” he said, catching you off guard and making you stop breathing for a few moments.

It was only natural that he would ask you something like that. With how much the two of you have been working together, you were practically already part of his gang in some way. Still, you couldn’t walk the final step and fully commit. You’ve been alone for the better part of your life; The ease of having no one to report to, and needing to worry about yourself only was something you weren’t willing to give up. You told him as much, and despite thinking of himself as a calm and collected man, he couldn’t accept your answer.

“I told you why,” you said, your voice now lower than it was a moment ago. Your eyes turned to look out of the hotel room window into the distance, past the small establishments that littered the main road. On the horizon, the sun was setting. The day was coming to an end, and so was your peculiar relationship with Arthur. You knew that at some point he would want more. There were the long gazes across the campfires, the occasional, drunk make-out sessions that never went too far. You knew that you were playing with fire with how long you stayed in the town, but it seemed that Arthur was not the only one to be caught in the gravity of the situation.

He came up to stand next to you, the proximity of his body making your stance weaken. “That ain’t good enough reason,” he said.

"It is for me,” you replied.

As if just realizing how pushy he has been, he stepped back, feeling embarrassed that his emotions, something that he thought he’s learned to control, got the better of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said and shook his head. He took a deep breath, trying to compose both himself and his emotions, carefully picking out the next words to say. “I just don’t wanna lose you. Each time we split, I’m afraid it’s for the last time,” he said, taking a small pause after each sentence, the silence in between emphasizing the weight of his words.

Despite working with, and being in close proximity to Arthur for the past few months, you’ve never seen this vulnerable side of him. You could see how hard it was for him to say what he felt. He didn’t seem like someone who often expressed his feelings orally, and it made each word mean so much more.

“Arthur,” you spoke his name, and reached out with your hand to touch his cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, like a child into the loving hands of their mother. He craved the warmth of your touch, and the knowledge that right now, you were still here, still with him.

He said your name, his voice still quiet and mellow, and said, “Stay with me.” The tone of his voice kept the sentence teetering somewhere between a question and a statement and you didn’t reply anything in return, instead moving closer, and pressing your lips against his.

At the feeling of your lips against his own, he could feel every fiber in his being wake up to life. He could feel his heartbeat all over his body; in his chest, his throat and his hands, which went immediately to your hips and brought your flush against him. The feeling of his body against yours was intoxicating, and your hands immediately went to explore every inch you could get to.

He was slowly pushing you backwards, small, careful steps towards the bed in the back of the room, till you hit it with the back of your knees. Without breaking the kiss, you fell into the bed, pulling Arthur down with you. Everything about this moment was beautiful, from the feeling of your body under his, the movement of your lips against his own, to the warmth of your skin against his. He wished for this moment to never end.

He broke the kiss, only to instantly move his lips to your neck, peppering it with kisses and light nips. The sound of your voice, sighing and moaning his name only spurred him more and more, and before long he was talking off your top, revealing your chest to him. For a moment, he stopped his movements and admired your beauty. You were like a nymph, mysterious and hypnotizing. Everything about you drew him in, from the shape of your lips, to the hazy way you looked at him. You were too beautiful to be real, and he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, you would disappear like the dream you were.

The two of you were far too starved for each other’s bodies to prolong the inevitable for much longer, and were quickly pulling at each other’s clothes. His hands were working on the buttons of your pants, while yours were pulling down his suspenders. He was pulling down your pants while you were pushing open his shirt. Before too long, the two of you were naked before each other. You reached out with your hands, running it down his neck to his muscular chest and his stomach, down to his hard member. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him, and you licked your lips, suddenly thinking that you’ve never been with a man as arousing as Arthur was. With your carnal desires taking over you, you parted your legs, inviting him in. His mind was too clouded by lust to act civilized or gentleman-y, so he quickly took the invitation and settled between your legs. He dropped down to capture your lips once again, before taking a hold of his member and slowly pushing in. Even through the kiss, you could hear the sound of your combined moans as the two of you became one. All your thoughts were centered on how good it felt, on how good he felt. Arthur stilled for a moment when he was all the way in, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath, but the feeling of your walls enveloping him, and your hands now holding onto his forearms made him shudder, and he lost himself, setting a steady rhythm which left you a moaning, writhing mess under him.

Everything meshed together as the two of you lost yourself in the pleasure of each other’s bodies. His lips were on your neck, kissing your soft skin, while his hands were on your hips and your waist, relishing in the curves of your body. Your legs were hooked over his torso, holding him close to you, while your nails dug into his back, holding for dear life and leaving crimson marks behind that hurt just enough to make Arthur crave more.

You couldn’t tell whether hours or seconds passed when you felt yourself near the peak. All your energy and attention centered on where the two of you were connected. Arthur felt you tighten around him, could feel the warmth of your ragged breaths. He sneaked a hand between the two of you and found your clit. The feeling of his finger on you was the last thing you needed to come apart, and with a moan of his name, you did. Your legs trembled and your voice rose an octave or two as immense pleasure ran through veins, filling all of you with its warmth.

Arthur wasn’t far behind, and after a few more thrust, he succumbed to the pleasures and pulled out, releasing himself on your stomach.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he found your lips once again. The kiss was slower, more sensual than the one you shared in the beginning. The kiss spoke more than the two of you have been for the past few months. He confessed his love for you with the way he bit your bottom lip. With the flick of your tongue, you said “Me too”

His mind was blank as you laid on his chest, asleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt content and relaxed. One of his hands was on the small of your back, keeping you close against him, while the other played with a strand of your hair. After a few minutes, he gently pulled himself up and took a satchel that laid on the bedside table. He pulled his journal and a pen out and started drawing. Whether you were going to come with him or not, he wanted to always have an image of you with him, to remind him of the woman that you were. With the sketch done, he put his journal back into his satchel and turned around, capturing you in his hands and with a small yawn, fell asleep.

He woke up, but instead of finding the warm, desired body next to him, found emptiness. He looked around, the room was bare; her clothes, guns and bags were gone. He pushed himself from the bed and went to look out of the window to where their horses were hitched last night and found only his own there. He closed his eyes and stood still for a moment. The hotel room suddenly felt too big and empty for him.

Just like her, the conclusion to their peculiar relation left him with many questions that he knew would torment his mind for months to come. He wondered if it was a mistake to ask her to come with him so soon. Should he have waited a bit more? Or should’ve he just enjoyed what they had and see where it would take him? With these thoughts, he packed his things and left the hotel room.

.

“And that’s all there is to it,” Arthur said, turning to look at Karen. The girl, after hearing the entire story, was left with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. She could see, with the way Arthur talked and the way his eyes looked out into the distance, that despite years and distance, the woman still had the same hold on him. She wanted to ask him if he ever tried to find her, but she felt that she already opened up too many old wounds. Instead, she thanked him for sharing the story with him, and promised to never look into his journal again.

With everyone asleep and the main campfire empty, he found himself in his cot, unable to fall asleep. He could feel the weight of her head on his chest, the feeling of her hair in his hand. He wondered if she thought of him as much as he did of her. With years, the memory of months that they shared together was becoming more fuzzy, and sometimes, he wondered if they happened at all. The only thing he had to remind him that it was all real was that portrait and the feelings he still had for her.

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 3

[special dts: @bluewingedangel @siennamariia <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

I wanted to say something.

I knew based on the long expressions plastered across their faces, that they were waiting impatiently for me to say something too.

But I physically couldn’t.

A knot cemented itself at the back of my throat, suffocating me as I tried to swallow. I could feel my mouth suffer through a drought as I did so.

All I could do was look at the three of them, internally wallowing in embarrassment with a load of questions making my head spin.

How could Nate and Elena keep something like that from me? What were they thinking? No. What was I thinking?

Suddenly, the voices of people scattered amongst the yard became too loud. Though, the stares directed towards me were louder.

“Y/n can you say something?”

Without even thinking, I felt my body turn away from them, and I carried myself away.

“Y/n?” I could hear Elena calling after me.

“I’ll just be a minute” I finally croaked back to her, relieved that I could finally get a word out.

I rushed past the deck towards the side of the house.

I knew in the back of my mind that I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t something to run away from; knowing they probably felt just as awkward telling me.

But I had to get away from Sam.

I couldn’t bear standing there while his smug grin could be seen in the corner of my eye.

It was driving me crazy.

Why does he insist on making this hard on me?

I continued to let my feet travel, not even worried about where I would end up. It felt good to step away from the chaos that my parents organized, for a while anyway.

But I soon found myself at the dead end of the street, in front of the wooded patches that lined the edges of the pavement; sectioning off the neighborhood from the forest.

Without any hesitation, I stepped past the barricading trees, and onto the trail that led to a place of sanctuary.

A small body of water sat on the indented ground, with blooming ferns and bushes fencing it. Farther away from the pond, large rocks collected together, forming makeshift seats to take in the atmosphere.

It looked like it belonged in a cheesy disney movie, or a landscape renaissance painting.

I found this place with Nate when I was little, and since then I would escape here when things become too much to handle.

I sat myself down on one of the largest slabs of rock, almost seeing the memories with Nate passing around me in the form of faded visuals; they were almost ghost-like.

I took myself into these moments one by one; succumbing to the laughter, the playfulness, the smiles, the thrill.

Even though I love my parents more than anything, the bundles of memories Nate and I shared, showed me a glimpse of adventure that my parents couldn’t give me.

The overwhelming feeling of contentment pushed a smile onto my face.

But in an instant, it all faded.

Sam.

That one moment with him feasted on my conscious mind like a ravenous vulture. It made my stomach churn in the worst possible way.

I sunk my head into my hands, huffing in frustration.

That is, until I heard a few raucous cracks of leaves and sticks not too far from me.

I fix my posture while whipping my head towards the direction of the noise, only to be met with guilty eyes.

Nathan stood there, leaning his upper body on the stiff trunk of a tree.

Perfect timing, Nate..

My lips flatlined as I scratched at the corner of my forehead, “Hey.”

He steps closer, leisurely but surely.

“Hey,” he gestures to the vacant space next to me, “can I?”

“Yeah.”

Placing both of his hands on his thighs, he plops down next to me, slightly grunting. We sat there in silence; but it wasn’t peaceful, it was impatient.

The both of us were longing to say something to one another, but neither of us preferred confrontation in the slightest. So we sat there, staring at the grove.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here.”

I look over to him, noticing the tinge of nostalgia sketched upon his features.

“uh yeah.. yeah it really has,” I release a breath, reverting my eyes back to the pond, “almost 5 years.”

It was two days before I left for college. Screaming echoed throughout the house, and reverberated through my head, overwhelming my senses.

My parents chalked it up to being stressed over ‘my big move,’ which I can believe. But the words said that day pushed its way through me. I finally had enough of the nonsense and hollered back at them.

Big mistake. ‘you’re an absolute failure’ They said, ‘you’re never gonna go far.’

Long story short, I ran out of the house, and into the forest. I sat on this same rock, with tears planting glistening streams down my face.

Nate apparently heard the commotion, which wasn’t too surprising, and he made his way to me.

He didn’t even say a word before wrapping his arms around me; embracing me with a comforting warmth that slowly eased me back to normal.

‘Sic Parvis Magna,’ He said.

I was more than confused with those few words, until he began to speak once more.

‘Greatness from small beginnings. Now this isn’t exactly small, you know, with you leaving me here to go to college and all. But it is a new beginning- your new beginning. Don’t let anyone stop you from moving forward.’

That was the last day I saw this beautiful spot of ours, and the last time I really had a solid conversation with Nate; it made the final memory bittersweet at best.

“It really hasn’t changed a bit though.”

“Probably because change is dining elsewhere,”I tried to whisper under my breath, but unfortunately, he heard me loud and clear.

I look up at him in the corner of my eye, noticing his presence fall into a sea of guilt again.

He runs his hand through his surprisingly neatened hair, letting out a sigh that releases all of his proper posture.

“Look, y/n, I wanted to tell you. I really did. But it’s just-”

“Nate all I gotta ask is why? Why would you keep something that major from me?”

I had my body fully turned to face him now, while he still remained there; slouched with his head bowed to his fidgety hands.

I could tell he was stalling, swallowing his responses with force.

“Nate. Just tell me. Please.”

His eyes closed as he exhaled, “It’s a very long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Not exactly.” Roars of laughter within the distance cause both of us to look at the trail leading out of the woods, “we’ve still got a party going on, which happens to be for you, if I may add-”

“Seriously Nate, you think I care?” I was growing fretful, mentally pleading for him to just give up on excuses.

His hands raised in defense, “Fine, fine, okay..”

———

It didn’t even occur to us how long we’d been out here until the streams of sunlight disappeared from the ruptures in between the trees. The day was just replaced with the beginning of nightfall.

“So you’re telling me that Sam, your brother...who was presumed dead for 15 years, dragged you out across the globe to find Henry Avery’s treasure in 3 months because a drug lord was gonna kill him if you didn’t?”

Nate stifled a low chuckle, nodding along.

“So I take it you found it and gave the son of a bitch his cut? Well, since he’s alive and all-”

“Hey, language missy.” He attempted a scolding tone, but I could see through his thin facade.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully,“Haha very funny. Now answer the question mister.”

“Well, it turns out the son of a bitch was Sam. He uh- lied about the whole thing.”

My eyes widened, “Wait what? So the drug lord- the sole purpose of the treasure hunt..”

“Yep it was all bullshit.”

I averted my wide-eyed gaze from him to the pond that was now lit with the blaring lights of fireflies,“Wow. I’m surprised no one got the chance to kick him in the face.. or balls.”

“Yeah Rafe- he pretty much took care of that one..”

The both of us laughed, causing a few birds to flutter away from the branches closest to us.

I missed this.

“Figured I’d find you two here.”

As our fit died down, we glanced over to a beaming Elena emerging from the trail with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I told your parents that you were comin’ over with us. I assumed you wanted some space from all the chaos.”

I showed my relief in the form of a warm simper, up until the realization punched me in the face.

Sam is gonna be there.

My body tensed, becoming a stiff statue in place. The lack of saliva in my mouth was back, and I felt my breath hitch silently.

I guessed the two of them noticed my change in demeanor.

“Are you okay y/n? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Elena’s tone was gentle, as her grin faltered slightly.

“No no it’s fine it’s just- it’s nothing don’t worry,”I abruptly stood up, scratching at my forehead again, “lets go, back.”

“You sure?,” I felt Nate’s arm fall over my shoulders, giving me a faint squeeze as the three of us trudged down the path.

I needed to take my mind off of Sam, hopefully I can avoid him.

“Yeah..” my voice trailed off, “as long as I get to play a certain game that I happened to have the highest score of.” walking confidently with my head held high, I could still see Nate rolling his eyes.

“Actually, Elena has since claimed that title for herself.” Nate said frankly.

A dramatic gasp escapes my lips,“Elena, are you kidding me!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at the pregnant lady here,” she looks back at Nate and I as we continue to walk down the trail, “how about this: you two compete to try and beat my high score.”

Nate looks down at me with the same contemplative look I give him.

“And what’s the catch, hun?” Nate asks.

“Loser gets pushed or thrown into the pool.”

Well well well, Elena’s finally getting in on our shenanigans.

I smirked, “This is gonna be light work.”

“Oh really now? I just know you’re secretly afraid that I’m gonna win.”

“Sure, Nate. I’m not gonna lose, you’re all bark and no bite.”

It was his turn to let out a theatrical breath,“How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

While Nate and I went on with our child like banter, Elena laughed hysterically at our foolishness,“You two are absolutely ridiculous.”

Nate glances back at me, only this time his fist patiently waited in front of me for a fist bump, “you ready to get destroyed?”

I scoff, hitting my fist on his, “You’re on.”

[celestialgaea]

hello, noticed ur requests r open! is it okay if I could ask for a fic of Ezio/F!Reader with the theme of jealousy coming from Ezio? thank you if you accept my request! your works are amazing!

I have been wanting to fulfill this request for such a long time but I went through quite a rough period and I always felt the guilt of letting you wait linger upon me. I am so sorry for letting you wait. I have not forgotten you, your request was always in the back of my mind and I'm grateful for finally being able to write again!

I hope you enjoy the fanfiction!

(Request) Ezio Auditore x F!Reader // Jealousy

Warnings: (slight) mature content

Pairings: Ezio Auditore x (Female) Reader

summary: You are Leonardo's apprentice and have gotten the assignment to draw the naked male body from different perspectives. But when Ezio is paying a visit to Leonardo he doesn't seem very delighted with his lover drawing another man's private part.

You had underestimated the assignment. When Leonardo first told you about drawing a naked man you hadn't perceived the false comfort of your own assurance, who convinced you into thinking that seeing a fully bare stranger is nothing but the nature of a human being, as an illusion. Until the horrific scene of the young male, probably in his early twenties, slowly discarding himself off his clothes manifested itself behind a wooden changing screen.

Your mind kept replaying the former scene of the young male talking in slight shock to your maestro about how the apprentice was a women. A women that would create an image of his private part underneath the blunt end of her charcoal stick. During the open conversation, as the man was not ashamed of his shock whose cause leant more towards the fear of visible arousal than the mysogenistic side, his face and neck began to change into a more reddish skintone.

'Y/N,' Leonardo whispered, pointing towards his chest. 'Cover a bit of your chest, Ragazza. The poor man is quite...weak. I don't want you to get horrified.' You scoffed as you pulled up the fabric of the nightgown underneath your dress. 'Forgive me, maestro, for showing fertility.' You mocked. Leonardo shook his head, as if he were trying to remove his excessive thoughts to make more room for your shameless remarks. 'Ragazza, you know that I have no problem with your breasts, and i'm sure you know why, But this kid is as mature as the mosquitos that flied above Cleopatra's head during a scorching summer night. Be prepared that his "pride" might show itself."

Your heart began beating faster at just the mere thought of it, and the rustles of the male's fabric rubbing against each other as they fell onto the ground, entangled into one big flood of linen and leather, made his presence very clear and thus brought tension in the air that encircled you. 'Giovanni, Dannazione, are you almost done, boy? You're taking too long!' 'Maestro, no!' You whispered as annoyance took a hold of your voice. 'Ragazza, time is precious. And in these times of uncertainty I cannot lose any more.' And with that he turned his back to you and walked towards his desk not far away from your seat. You noticed how Leonardo's slouch has grown heavier over the past months, and his neck was more bent, as if it was bowing to his brain; the holder of his talent and geniusness.

Even though your eyes kept flickering through the various parchments filled with unfinished sketches and scrabbles you were still able to see the faint and disorted sillhouette of Giovanni walking from behind the changing screen towards the small wooden stage in front of you. His feet seemed humid as they loosened themselves from the floor with a sound similar to wallpaper being pulled away from a tacky wall. The boy slowly uncovered his private part, exposing a dark bush of intertwined curls, but when a knock on the door disturbed him he quickly covered himself again as the door was getting pierced by his anxious eyes. You regretted looking at it.

'Maestro, who is visiting?' You heard the sighs of parchment before Leonardo scurried towards the door.

'Ah. It's good to see you my friend!'

'It's good to see you too, mio amico.' The sonorous voice whose melodious words and promiscues groans swiftly danced towards you to embrace you in its tenderness was only able to come from one person only; Ezio Auditore. And it seemed that the young man wasn't fond of Ezio's presence.

'Maestro, I thought no one was allowed to disturb?' Giovanni's voice was a batter of shame and growing annoyance as he stood there with only his hands to cover his private part. Ezio glared at you. He saw you, he observed you, viewed you with spurned astonisment and the displeased look in his eyes made you grasp onto the understandment of why he was as fearsome as he was charming.

'I am unsure wether to turn to leonardo or you for an explanation, mia cara.' Leonardo had his hands up, almost touching Ezio's chest. 'Ezio, I have given her the assignment to draw a naked man.' 'Then why didn't you ask to draw me in nudity? There would be more flesh to capture than what that boy beholds.' Ezio surrenered himself uncontrollably to his impulses and attacked the poor Giovanni with his spit-filled words . 'Ezio, leave the boy out of this! He hasn't done anything and secondly; do not begin with the "Then why didn't you ask me", Because you know how scheduled you are. This is merely for educational reasons.' It felt sinful to get enraged with Ezio, but he had never behaved this attacking towards an innocent man. Along with his birth came his short temperance and even during the scorching season of maturing the searings left by his short temperance refused to heal.

'Educational purposes?' Ezio pulled at the leather skin of his gloves on top of his index finger as if he was planning on slapping the vulnurable model with it. 'Since when did looking at a cazzo become an educational enlightment?' The gloves were put on the table -Thank the Lord- together with his defected hidden blade. Ezio walked, no, he stomped towards a wooden chair that stood desolated in a corner collecting the flying dust and bits of dried paint that fell of a "failed", as the old man is still a perfectionist, da Vinci painting that towered above the chair.

Ezio let the chair ballance on its two front legs and allowed his dissatisfaction to guide his hand as it smacked the pieces of paint and dust particles off of its sitting surface. And how surprisingly odd it may seemed, you felt the muscles around your lower stomach contract in an ebb and flow that left trails along the flesh of your womanhood. He was angry, and so were you, and yet you felt aroused by him just uttering his jealousy to a lonely and motionless chair. For a few seconds you visualized those same rough hands whispering against the surrface of your weeping arse before turning them into a lovely shade of red. Ezio carried the chair and let its feet hit the ground next to you.

'Ezio, what are you intending to do?'

'Accompanying you.'

Oh, how he liked blending himself within the schemes of colours so his robes of red and white were the most appealing to look at.

'I do not need company. I'm doing very well on my own.' Ezio's fingers ran along your clothed thigh and gripped it sturdily. The lack of shame was transparant on him, removing the presence of Leonardo and Giovanni out of his realm of reality, as the humid warmth of his breath hugged your ear lobe.

'Ragazza, stop being hard-headed. I'm surprised that the boy is able to remain his excitement in custody. When I was his age,' 'Your cazzo had impregnated almost half of Firenze's youth. Not everyone is as rebellious as you were.' To your surprise, Ezio had remained silent. It seemed as though the sudden flare up of the middle aged consciousness had possessed him again and the teasing hand was removed from your thigh to fill in his crossed arms. His boyish teases were vanished. The man in his mid forties had appeared again; the outer corner of his eyes were folded into deepened curtains, the corners of his mouth were surrounded by the crescent-shaped smile lines which vitalized the apples of his cheek and if you looked at it with a certain view, not through the eyes of a classical artist, but through the eyes of a daydreamer, a madman, or a child you could play with the lines and follow it until his cheek slowly transfomed into a smooth segment of a rock being caressed by the spirals and curls of waves or maybe strands of hairs or whatever can be curly and spirally. Ezio grunted, focusing on the model, especially his croth area.

'Come one,' Ezio leant in to whisper in your ear, again.

'My cazzo is way more appealing to look at than his.'

'Ezio!'

[local-ground-apple]

May I request scenarios of Diasomnia and Pomefiore taking care of their child s/o? Sort of similar to the one you did for when Silver, Rook, Kalim etc being turned into children ❤️❤️❤️

Hope you will enjoy it~! ❤️❤️❤️

🐲 Malleus thought nothing could surprise him anymore in his long life, yet when he saw your small form, he had to admit he hasn’t expect you to turn into a child anytime soon,

🐲 tries and will find a solution quicker than Crewel or Crowley,

🐲 at first, Malleus is lost. The whole situation is new to him and he doesn’t really know how he should take care of you or what he could be doing with you, until you get back to your normal form,

🐲 he did ask Lilia for help,

,,Y’N, what would you want to do?” ,,You’re a prince” “Yes, indeed” “Teach me how to dance”

🐲 Malleus furrowed his eyebrows, a bit taken aback with your sudden request, but soon a soft smile graced his lips. You were truly adorable as a child and he absolutely wouldn’t refuse you anything,

🐲 needless to say, you stomped on his feet a lot,

🐲he carries you on his shoulders almost all the time and you refuse to get down from them. You just wanted to touch his horns, but you really liked the feeling of being so tall and the view up there was truly amazing, 

🦇 the only one who actually knows what he’s doing,

🦇 at first, Lilia gets a bit emotional, as all those fond memories he had created with Silver when he used to be a child flooded him. You two ended up looking at pictures from Silver’s childhood, 

🦇 won’t stop cooing how adorable you are and he will certainly take a million of pictures much to your dismay (enough to create a whole album just with the photos from two days you spent as a child)

🦇 Lilia saw this a perfect opportunity to cook especially for you. Before this ancient fae burnt a whole kitchen down or accidentally poisoned you, Silver appeared with edible food and saved you from Lilia’s questionable dishes,

🦇 you had a lot of fun with Lilia, since you two organised a sleepover. Eating pizza, building a pillow fort, eating unhealthy ammounts of sweets, pranking Sebek - you truly had the best time of your life and you two even invited Malleus to join you (Silver fell asleep halfway through). 

🦇 fun ended when you told a “spooky” story and Lilia being Lilia decided to pull some ancient, fae book with terrifying stories that made Silver suddenly more than awake,

🦇 needless to say, you, Silver, Malleus and even Sebek ended up sleeping all together in the pillow fort with Lilia that night, refusing to turn off the light,

⚔️ Silver refused to let you touch his sword. Actually he hides it before you, so you won’t get hurt by accident. He hides everything that is sharp,

,,No, Y/N, you’re not going to climb that horse” “But, we always go horse-riding on Tuesdays!” “Yes, when you’re an actual adult”

⚔️ so instead you decided to go to sleep, 

⚔️ you both spend a lot of time napping together. Lilia often sees you two sleeping peacefully underneath a tree in the forest, while animals are all around Silver who has clovers in his hair (all thanks to you)

,,Can I braid your hair?” “...” “please?” *sigh* “Yes, sure”

⚔️ your braiding-hair skills certainly got better, even Vil would be impressed,

⚔️ when he’s asleep, you often sketch Silver trying to capture his beauty. Lilia finds your drawings purely adorable and he always coos how cute you are. Of course, Silver has no clue that you have a whole stash of drawing of him and you wish to keep it that way,

⚔️ Lilia of course offers his help, even if it mostly consists of him telling you all the embarrassing stories from Silver’s childhood

⚡ panics on the inside and on the outside. Can’t and won’t calm down anytime soon,

⚡Sebek hides any dangerous weapon from you and tries to babyproof the house as much as possible,

⚡tries to be quieter with you, as Sebek thinks children generally aren’t fond of loud sounds (oh how wrong was he). Somehow you managed to be louder than him, when you decided to throw a tantrum, 

⚡takes you with him literally everywhere. May it be his sword training, actual classes or just his night patrol, Sebek refuses to leave you unattended,

⚡ you ask him to read you and he gladly complies. Sebek switches from actual history textbooks to some fairytales, but you don’t mind this duality. Just hearing his soft voice reading you something before sleep is more than enough to calm you and lull you,

⚡you often fall asleep in his lap, 

💜a child, huh? Something truly unexpected. Vil is the first one to put his initial shock and disbelief aside and he immediately starts working on potion to turn you into adult again. He really wants to dedicate himself to it and at first Vil is engrossed in his work,

💜at first. Soon, you get rather bored and you begin to disturb him. Vil wanted to yeet you to Rook, he truly did, so he could focus on making a potion for you. Yet, after certain hunter told him for the umpteenth time that professor Crewel is taking care of it, he started considering taking a break,

💜your absolutely adorable puppy eyes finally convinced Vil to spend some time with you,

,,Can I style your hair?” “Absolutely no” “Please?” “I said no, but we can throw a small fashion show, hm?

💜 you two throw a small fashion show, but perhaps, a raid on Vil’s closet would be a more appropriate word. You tried a lot of his clothes and Vil taught you how to do poses,

💜 you two sneaked out to Heartslabyul to taste some strawberry tarts baked by Trey (even though Vil certainly was on a diet),

🏹 oh là, là. Room won’t shut up about how cute you are. He constantly coos how lovely you are. You quickly get tired of this bullshit,

,,Could you stop!” “My, my, mon lapin, tu est trop mignon~!”

🏹 Rook lets you style his hair,as well as wear his hat, 

🏹takes you on his regular Leona-watching-from-the-bushes-event and you enjoy your new, stalkerish role perhaps a bit too much,

🏹Rook obviously refused to take you hunting, yet you followed him either way and you ended up convincing him not to kill a hare, but to adopt him,

🏹 Vil certainly wasn’t pleased when you showed up with a hare named “Five” 

🏹 your puppy eyes and pouting face is enough to persuade Rook to do whatever you wish. Literally, he won’t be able to refuse you 

🏹Vil told him not to give you any sweets, but one look of your puppy eyes and Rook is melting. He will sneakily give you chocolate when Mr.Schoenheit is not looking,

🍏 Epel has absolutely no clue how to take care of you. Absolutely, he’s just lost, 

 🍏 but he tries his best to keep you from dangerous, sharp things that may result in you hurting yourself,

,,I’m not a baby, I can slice the bread myself” “Y’N, you’re literally a child”

🍏 however, Epel let you help him bake some apple cookies and you two ended up having a flour fight (yes, you started it on purpose), 

🍏 you two become partners in crime. Sneaking out at the evening to Savanaclaw, eating snacks past bedtime, violating practically every, single rule Vil imposed on you two and finally raiding Rook’s stash of sweets - there’s just plenty of things you both managed to do together, 

🍏 Epel plays a loooooot of board games with you - literally every, single game he managed to find in Pomefiore, while you both sip on hot chocolate with marshmallows,

🍏 he is elated, when you turn to your original form. Sure, he had a lot of fun taking care of child version of you, yet he much more prefers your older self (mostly because he can finally kiss you)

[liquid-luck-00]

Meeting for the First Time

Bio!Dad Bruce

So here is my first contribution to the Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020, 

Day 1: Meeting for the First Time

@biodad-bruce-month

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay granted noting seemed to ever go Marinette’s way. But this was the ultimate punch in the gut the universe could send her.

It started off as a normal Friday, 8 months since the liar came back to school. 8 months since she threatened to pull everyone, she cared about from her and leave her alone. Well 6 month ago Lila’s threat came true. Today she simply walked into class and ignore the cruel stares and watched as feet would pop out to trip her. Well she made it to her desk in one piece and that was a plus.

She was pulling out her tablet and then she heard and felt something slam onto her desk. It was a binder nearly exploding with paper’s and behind it was none other than Alya. “Hey Girl” she started trying to keep her voice friendly, but the repulsion was evident in her voice. “We were wondering if you could do us a favor” she gave Marinette a strained smile and when she didn’t answer continued “Can you help me plan Lila’s sweet 16 as a way to make up for bullying her.”

Marinette was beginning to become livid, her best friend, scratch that her EX- best friend, is asking her to plan a bully’s and a Liar’s party. No, oh Kwamii No she will not be doing that. She was about to say so when Miss Bustier walked in holding several envelopes.

“Please take a seat” Miss Bustier said and that was when Mari moved the binder as far from her as possible. “Today I have the results of the genetic testing we sent a while ago.” Everyone was beginning to murmur excitedly. Mari could only shrink into her seat. She was dreading this for multiple reasons. “Marinette would you please?”

Mari stood up and walked to her teacher took the envelopes and passed them out to the designated person. She kept hers and slipped it into her bag as soon as she got back to her seat.

She knew what it would say. She knew that it would not have what her ‘friends’ would think. It would only prove as Lila would claim that she was not actually wanted and that she was bullying her because she was loved, and Mari wasn’t. Luckily, no one noticed her as they were too excited with their own results. It wasn’t until the lunch bell rang that the dreaded moment came.

“So, Mari what were your results.” Adrien asked, once upon a time she would have gushed at him talking to her but now her crush was nothing but a pile of ashes in the wind.

“I don’t know” She replied as she picked up her bag and began to head out of the class.

“Wait you didn’t look at it” Adrien practically yelled and that got the class’s attention. He was giving her a frown and couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t even look.

“Why would you not look at your result Marinette?” Lila spoke in a sickly-sweet voice. “Are you ashamed that you have someone you want to hide from the class?” everyone began to murmur and was beginning to give her skeptical glares. As if she would attack them, almost no one noticed how Kim and Nino came around to block the door.

Mari was beginning to grow frustrated that they would not let her leave and that they continued to glare at her like a criminal. She had enough. “I WAS ADOPTED!!!” that made everyone go quiet and stared at her. “I was adopted when I was a couple of moths old and I have NO intention on knowing my biological family” she turned, and Nino and Kim were shocked that she simply slipped passed them and went home.

However, she knew who her biological father was. Well that isn’t the entire truth, she found out she was adopted when she was 10 years old. Her Biological father reached out stating he didn’t know until recently that he had a child. He wanted to get to know her and be a part of her life. However, Mari was stubborn, Tom and Sabine were her parents, so she told him she didn’t want to meet. Surprise though he was stubborn as well, he gave Mari his number and to call or message him even if it were to complain about him or anything at all. This had surprised her, and she did. She texted her father with things she didn’t feel she could tell her parents.

For the past 5 years she had told him about school, or mistakes she had made, and about her passion in fashion. He always seemed to listen and just let her rant. It was good for her. When she became ladybug, she was excited to tell him about the heroes of Paris. He sometimes never answered but she saw that he read them and that was comforting.

He became someone outside of Paris who helped anchor her. He would send her gifts for her birthday and messaged her when he could, and he really did help her though most of what was going on at school. She only knew him as Father, no name attached and that was fine. That was why she didn’t want to open the letter. She didn’t want a name to the person who cares for her as Marinette.

She went to the bakery and climbed the stairs knowing that it would be quiet. Her parents were taking a trip abroad for their anniversary along with her Nonna and that left her alone. “Tikki?” the little goddess floated up to her. “Should… should I… should I look at the names?” Mari wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to know but she also knew that she possibly would like to know.

“Mari the choice is yours but know that no one not even your father will think less of you if you never want to know.” Tikki really is always sure and can always make her feel better. Mari simply nodded went to get something to eat and stared at the letter she pulled out. As she finished her lunch and washed her plate, she turned to the letter with determination she opened it and read. Her Mother was blank, meaning that she probably hasn’t put her information on any site, but does say that she is of European decent. Then she looked at her father, he had a photo, black hair, and the same bluebell eyes. He was dressed in a suit and she looked at the name, Bruce Wayne. Next to her own photo was the photo of boy with tanned skin, black hair, and emerald green eyes, the name next to it was Damian Wayne. So, she had a brother, he looked close to her age, maybe he was the reason why her father contacted her years ago. Her father was also from European decent but that was about it. She’ll look into it more after school she dropped the envelope off in her room and left to go back.

She went back to class and sat in her seat before the bell rang so she was the first person back into the classroom. She kept her head down and didn’t look up from the sketch she was working on, she heard the whispers and caught a few glances at her, but she ignored them.

“Mari?” oh Kwamii why does he have to talk now again. She looked up and his expression softened into a small smile or more like a frown. “Do you…” he rubbed his neck. At this point everyone was staring between the two completely silent. “Do you want to talk about it?”

At this she scoffed “Why?” she was confused at this they wouldn’t talk to her unless it was to yell at her so why should she be vulnerable for them.

Alix spoke up “Why do you bother asking her anyways Adrien?” she snarked throwing Mari a glare. Adrien looked sheepish, and that was when Lila struck.

“Well if she puts it out in the open, she wouldn’t bully me, since we can help her. Make her feel loved since her parents didn’t want her” she spoke calmly and sweetly, and everyone nodded and agreed.

“Tell us Mari, you can trust us girl” Alya spoke from the class.

“Now why...” Mari was cut off as Miss Bustier entered to start the class. However, not even 10 minutes into the class the door opened. A man in a suit holding a folder came into the room.

“Miss Bustier” he asked, and the teacher nodded, so he continued. “I am sorry to disturb the class, but I need to speak with Miss Dupain-Cheng”

The teacher nodded and called “Marinette” gesturing towards the door. But of course, nothing was ever simple in this class.

“Sir if you need Marinette then you should also take Lila” Alya spoke up.

The man simply looked confused, “Why would I do that?”

“Marinette is bullying Lila so if you need Mari you need Lila as well” she huffed proud of her logic.

“I am sorry, but I really only need Miss Dupain-Cheng”

“Well whatever you need to say to her you can tell all of us”

Now the man looked exasperated and he turned towards the teacher. She nodded “It is for the best whatever you need to tell Marinette you can tell the class.” She stated.

He huffed and walked up the stairs to Marinette. “I am so very sorry for your loss Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you would please come with me, you are needed to verify the bodies.” This left the class in a quiet shock. They couldn’t believe what they just heard. Mari was wide eyed filled with tears ready to fall and was numb. She didn’t hear when everyone began to speak at once demanding answers of the man. And now Mari could tell he was mad. “Really I do not need to answer your questions as this matter only pertains to Miss Dupain-Cheng, this should have been done in private, so you” he pointed at Miss Bustier “will most likely be getting a call as soon as I will report this.” This shut up the class and he helped her up and walked her out.

Identifying the bodies was a blur in her mind, she was told they died as a riot stormed the airport on their way home. She was asked if she had anywhere to go “can you please give me a moment?” she spoke weakly and the woman who was in charge of her smiled and left her in the room. Thank the Kwamii that Hawkmoth had been inactive lately, so she was able to cry and mourn. She needed to tell someone anyone, but those she loved were gone and now what was she going to do. Tikki popped her head out of the bag and patted her leg. That was when she saw her phone, she picked it up and scrolled through her contacts. She got to the name Bio! Dad and pressed the call.

It rang a few times before he picked up. “Marinette is everything okay you don’t usually call?” she started to cry, and this put worry into his voice. “Mari sweetie what’s wrong. Deep breaths with me 1 in, hold 2, out 3. Again.” He repeated this until she was no longer gasping for breath.

“Maman, Papa, and Nonna died” she couldn’t keep strong anymore “please, please don’t leave me too.”

“I won’t Mari” his voice was the softest she had ever heard from him “I’ll be on the first plane over. I won’t leave you I promise” he hung up and she was finally starting to feel lighter. The woman from before came back.

“Are you okay sweetie?” she gave her a smile.

“I think I will be?” she gave a small smile.

“That call must have helped” Mari nodded in acceptance to the statement. “Who was it?”

“My Father, he is coming for me” the woman looked at her as if she grew another head. “My biological father. My maman, papa, and nonna that died were my adoptive family.” At that the woman gave her a sympathetic smile and a hug. “they were my family but…”

“Sweetie you don’t have to always be strong its okay to be sad.” She began to cry again. She was dropped off at the bakery by Officer Raincomprix, who gave her a sad smile and then left. Mari fell asleep in her parents’ room, Tikki curled up next to her.

She woke up the next morning and opened the Bakery, allowed in the staff, and went back to the apartment. Afterwards she went back up and curled up in her parents’ bed, but a notification on her phone made her stir again.

Bio!Dad: I’m in Paris where do you want me to meet you Mari?

Mari: The Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie

Bio!Dad: I’ll be there soon I promise.

Not long after a staff member knocked on the door, she recognized the voice. “Someone is here to see you”

“Mari can I come in?” she heard Bruce and that prompted her to open the door. She didn’t care that she looked like a mess, as soon as the door opened, she hugged him and started to cry for what felt like the hundredth time in the past 24 hrs. He murmured reassurances to her and led her to the couch.

---

If anyone had told him that he was going to rush onto a plane because of the daughter he has never met in person called him crying, he would not have given you any kind of reaction. But here he is on a jet headed to Paris to meet and comfort his daughter, after her parent’s death. Yikes that is a lot to handle.

The only positive to all this is that he left discreetly enough that he wasn’t tailed by the boys. And that was a relief, if Mari had to meet him for the first time that alone was one thing but meeting Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian would probably send the child over the edge. That is considering the fact that she actually deals with and processes emotions like a human and not like a bat.

He hadn’t even finished checking into his hotel and he was restless he knew that Mari needed him and if Bruce was anything, he was overprotective of his family. And right now, one of his family was hurt and he had to do something. He texted her and she told him to go to a bakery.

Well if she said to go to a Bakery then he went to a Bakery. He stepped in and looked around before going up to the counter.

“Excuse me Miss?” he stated towards a Girl no older than Twenty behind the counter placing pastries into the case.

“Hello, how can I assist you today?” she smiled.

“I am here to speak with Marinette.”

“Ah. Your first time here right.” He nodded his head. “That girl always forgets. Follow me” he was confused but followed the young woman through the kitchen and to a small hallway and up a flight of stairs. Where she knocked on a door. There was shuffling on the other side “Someone is here to see you” she plainly stated, and footsteps were heard near the door but just shy of opening it.

“Mari can I come in?” his question was tentative but even he was surprised by the softness of his voice.

The door swung open and there she stood. Oh, she was adorable. Her black hair was in a messy bun and had blue highlights that emphasized her bluebell eyes, which were red and puffy from her crying. She fell into him into a hug and she was so small, he had to protect her from everything. The worker left and he moved the two of them to the couch.

After a couple of hours, he got the full story and to say he was pissed was an understatement. First there was the teacher and how they had handled the situation was awful, but besides that he wanted Mari safe, but he had to know what she wanted instead of making the decisions for her. He learned the hard way with his boys.

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