#[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon]

[iiroiiros]

💖

rando loving

@sncwlight - GEM MY DEAREST, i love plotting with you so much and we seriously need to do more of it! i'm hype to see you write your other muses but even then i love natalee so fucking much, she's so loving and sweet just like you are and you're both a pleasure to talk to qwq i love our ships so much and our silly little chats on discord, but fr we should write more!!

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[ BEYOND SKIES | ooc]

[satoruzlove]

I absolutely loved your off-season Sakusa fic! I was hoping if you could do something where he accidentally stumbles across something he thinks you'd like but he's on strict orders to not get anything more but he ends up getting it.

It's totally fine if you don't want to! Have a lovely day! (Stay hydrated and eat real, healthy food <33)

ooooo anon this is so cute !! and thank you for being so sweet , you take good care of yourself okay? kisses <3 [ this is my first req and i smiled so bad when i saw it bwhdjsjwkfjje ANYWAYSSS]

SAVING GRACE

[ K. SAKUSA. ]

your raven haired boyfriend’s eyes were heavy with boredom as he leaned against his trolly. you had given him a list of things to get , and only one instruction. do not splurge. kiyoomi thought he could, no, knew he could adhere to that. he wasn’t a child. so here he was in the toiletry aisle, eyes flitting across the tall and neatly packed shelves looking for the shampoo that was on your list. he let out a little ‘ah’ in satisfaction when he found it.

his legs felt heavy against the semi-sticky floors of the shop, shoes dragging against them when he made his way to get the last item-some deodorant.he needed some too, and seeing as he loved smelling good he knew where it was all too well. kiyoomi made a beeline for the section but stopped when a sweet, floral aroma hit his nose.

his eyebrows raised for the first time since he had entered the shop. head whipping around, he spotted a booth and immediately trotted towards it. a lady sat behind it, and as she spotted your boyfriend she smiled. “hello , sir! would you like to-“,” what is that?” kiyoomi doesn’t allow her to finish. he must know the name of this heavenly aroma. she was taken aback slightly , but answered kindly nonetheless. “ it’s our new fragrance, it’s called grâce salvatrice,” the word rolled off her tongue beautifully, kiyoomi thought. he pondered momentarily- his lips pursed beneath his black mask. “ what does that.. mean?” he enquired softly. the lady smiled at him once more, “saving grace, sir.”

kiyoomi would’ve never liked that scent before he met you. it was sweet, too welcoming and far too warm for his liking but it reminded him of you. the warmth and sickening feeling of security he first felt when he inhaled your scent. it buzzed in his ears and sent blood to his head. this scent reminded him of you for two reasons , first being that it was sweet, second was it’s name.

saving grace , the words echoed in his head as he checked out, holding not one but two bottles of the liquid in his hands. he thought about your strict instructions, ‘ only the list, ‘kay?’ you had said. he was in for a lecture. it didn’t matter though. the man knew that you were soft and if he so much as pouted at you just right, that you’d forget yourself. that always happens . he knows this because you do the same damn thing to him every time.

saving grace , he mumbles, his thick finger tips brushing the engraved words across the form of the glass bottle. it was round, a spout that look similar to a caterpillar and had a green gradient rising from the bottom.

saving grace, he thinks as he drives. why did this remind him of you so feverishly ? it took him a moment until he realised. all of a sudden he was back in college.

kiyoomi was standoffish and cold to the naked eye. the uneducated and untrained eye. not yours, though. it took a few months but once you had melted the tough, stainless steel exterior known as sakusa kiyoomi he knew he was done for. it started with the sparkle of your eyes as you looked at him or the warmth in his chest when you spoke - the little things that he so desperately tried to push away. it suffocated him at first. it snuck into his mouth and clogged his airways, infesting his lungs, his heart and when he thought he couldn’t take it; it hit him.

just breathe.

and when he did; all he smelt was you. your kindness, your understanding of his small social battery and the undying love you held for him. it consumed him, and he embraced it. you saved kiyoomi from a life of solitude that he thought he needed. that he yearned for until you. that’s why this simple, measly scent reminded him of you.

saving grace , he thinks as he comes in and unpacks with you. at first you sigh happily when you see no out of the ordinary items. you believe that he’s actually done what he’s told for once.

saving grace , he thinks when you groan at him as he explains that you shouldn’t be so happy yet. when he pulls out the box holding the bottles. you sigh a , ‘ and here i thought you were learning, ‘ but you still look curious.

you open the box, french words tumbling from your beautiful lips and the aroma invading his senses as you spritz some onto your wrist. the smile you sport with shut eyes is enough to make him fall for you all over again, and the ‘ omi, this smells amazing. thank you!’ prompts him to do so.you hug him.

saving grace , the only words on his mind as you hug his waist in gratitude. kiyoomi inhales and smells it all over again. you. the peace he’s always needed.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa comfort #sakusa kiyoomi comfort #domestic sakusa fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #sakusa headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons

[semi-decoffinated]

What do you think of Armand? I don’t get why everyone seems so fascinated with him. Personally I like Mael and Avicus a lot more. Gimme the old men (not Marius tho).

People are fascinated with Armand because he is fascinating, mystery enquirer.

Armand, the eternal youth, the former coven master, the imp, Botticelli’s angel; he carries a certain magnetism that draws people to him. On the surface he is charming and maybe I would even go so far as to call him sweet. But it’s a clever mask, a well crafted facade, a means to an end of making you fall in love with him.

Armand beneath his artfully maintained guise is a manipulator, possessive, calculated. He is aware of what it is that he wants, and when he does want something he knows exactly how to acquire it. By any method. For all his charms and his beauty, Armand can be so pervertedly cruel. So heartless. So frighteningly cold…

But why not? When did life afford Armand open arms? Real kindness, warmth? When did life offer him true rest and true solace? For so long he was no more than a possession himself, a doll without his own will or autonomy.

Could any of us, with true honesty and conviction, say that we would not have been moulded into so similar a shape by those experiences? I think Armand carries a bitter sadness with him, he is a tragedy in his own right. That is why he is so fascinating to people who meet him or read of him, anon. Armand is an enigma.

Avicus and Mael deserve paragraphs of their own.

#; mobile #; answered #(( fucking loved this ))

[targaryenluvs]

I Got You [andrew!peter parker]

requested (anon)

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: fluff, harmless following <3

an: italics = peters thoughts

REQUESTS ARE OPEN I WRITE FOR ANYTHING :) 

NO SPOILERS AT ALL FOR NWH (SET IN TASM)

As she walked down the busy streets with her friend, Gwen, Y/n failed to notice the spandex wearing, spider-web slinging hero following her from above. “I totally didn’t notice Gwen! Thank you oh thank you for opening my eyes.” She giggled as her friend pulled a “shocked” face. “Well if it wasn’t for me he would’ve never given you his number! Your welcome, Your Highness Y/n.” Gwen spoke as she nudged Y/n’s arm. 

Number? Who’s number? Why are you taking other guys’ number?

“Oh whatever Gwen.” Y/n giggled, “This is my stop, Y/n/n.” Gwen said, “You’re sleeping over tonight, right?” Y/n nodded, “But I have to go do file a few things at Oscorp, I’ll be back by 3.” Gwen got up to her doorstep and looked back, “Good to know, I’ll see you later!” Y/n waved as she walked away smiling.

God she look’s pretty.

Y/n walked a few minutes before attempting to cross the road. Key word, attempting. As she walked across looking down at the pavement as usual with her headphones in she missed the huge OSCORP labelled truck barrelling down the road towards her. C’mon Y/n look around! Peter said as he sprung into action.

“I got you!” He shouted,  as he swung down and scooped Y/n up by her waist, “Ah!” She screamed as she grabbed onto the nearest solid thing, Peter. As they effortlessly swung through the air, Peter couldn’t help but smile under his mask, he was so close to his crush. Y/n’s excited squeals filled Peter’s ears as they continued to swing around NYC until landing on top of a tall building.

“Oh my god!” Y/n spoke as she tried not to have her heart explode out of her chest as adrenaline pumped through her. “That- you.” Y/n stumbled over her words as she tried to catch her breath, “You saved me! Thank you so much.” She spoke with a smile on her face. “Uh no problem!” Spider-Man spoke as he tried to alter his voice. 

As Y/n looked up her eyes dilated at the sight of the man in front of her. “You’re, holy shit, you’re Spider-Man!” She gushed as Peter awkwardly stood trying to contain himself. “Yeah! I am! I mean uh-uhm, yeah. You should really start looking left and right Y/n.” Peter explained to the teen, “How do you know my name?” She enquired, “Well I was swinging in the neighbour-hood when someone said your name, next thing I knew you’re in-front of a truck.”

Great save idiot. Couldn’t have just pointed to her name tag?

Y/n’s shirt had an Oscorp name tag on the right. “And uh you have a name tag.” Peter explained to her. “Oh yeah! That makes sense, well uh thanks for the save down there and I’m late! Damn it.” Y/n sighed, “I can take you there, or y’know swing you there.” He said as he slowly stepped closer, “You’d be a life saver thanks.” She gushed as she stepped closer, Peter wrapped his arm around her waist as Y/n placed a hand on his chest and another around his back, locking herself in.

Spider-Man extended his arm which shot out a web and they were off! Left and right they dodged buildings as people shouted, “Spider-Man! It’s Spider-Man! Holy shit Spider-Man! He probably saved her! We love you!” Their time was cut short as they reached the Oscorp building, “Here we are.” Y/n smiled, “Thank you so much, for y’know. I gotta go but it was great meeting you!” 

“Y/n!” A co-worker of hers shouted at her, “C’mon! It’s Harry’s birthday!” The woman shouted at her, “Gotta run bye! Nice to meet you!” 

Peter sighed, “Nice to meet you too.”

#yandere #andrew garfield #andrew garfield peter parker #spiderman no way home #no way home #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #the amazing spider man #self insert #y/n x peter parker #peter parker #gwen stacy imagine #gwen stacy #tasm #the amazing spider man 2 #imagine y/n #peter parker x reader

[weasleylangs]

secrets i have held in my heart - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how.  Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way!  Word Count: 4k

A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request! 

Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you

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

The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°. 

Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners. 

So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade. 

Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more. 

But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21. 

“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?” 

The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.” 

Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.” 

Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.

“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him. 

The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.

“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.” 

-

It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.

“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum. 

“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious. 

“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.” 

She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh. 

“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family. 

When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother. 

Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.

“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.” 

Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother. 

“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.” 

Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings. 

She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day. 

-

After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant. 

When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.

Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.

“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.

“Tell Fred what exactly?” 

“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to. 

“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together. 

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers. 

“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”

“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.

“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.

What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody. 

Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him. 

So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him. 

But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George. 

-

The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour. 

When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.

“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.

“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest. 

“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”

George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.

“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’. 

Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn’t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.

-

“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.

“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.

“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.

“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.

Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?” 

George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.

“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.

- 

It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon. 

It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.

Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.

Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this. 

There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange. 

He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.

“George?” 

Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him. 

“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.

She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.

“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.

“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole. 

“Like, home?” 

She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her. 

“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.” 

Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.” 

She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.” 

“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform. 

Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.

She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.

“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.

“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.

#fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley

[tsuumu]

akaashi and his s/o trying face masks.

anon!! can i just say this is the most adorable request ever... like this really brought out my love for domestic headcanons n fics so tysm for requesting!

this ended up becoming more of a short fic than a hc post??? but i hope it’s close to what you were looking for!

• you and akaashi have been living together for quite some time now, so you’re pretty used to each other’s habits and routines even though they differ greatly.

• he’s well aware that you’re somebody who takes their skincare seriously and often lectures him on the importance of keeping your skin clean and mosturised. you’re one to drag him out with you when you’re buying new things to try. he’ll protest lightly that there’s no need to hoard these things but goes with you anyway.

• though keiji himself doesn’t pay much mind to the vast details of skincare, he can’t help but poke his nose into the things you buy, just out of pure curiosity. as he’s brushing his teeth, his eyes will wander and he’ll start unscrewing caps and timidly sniffing things, squinting at labels and even applying it to the back of his hand; nothing more than that though.

• one cool evening, you’re both working on respective things, akaashi buried deep into his editorial work. you’re a little exhausted from your own tasks and decide your complexion needs a pick-me-up, so you pad over to the bathroom and pull out a charcoal face mask. akaashi just absently eyes you, poking his head up from all the papers scattered around him.

• your eyes meet as you’re exiting the room and you’re both pretty quiet. an idea pops into your head.

“do you want to try this with me?”

he’s silent as first, staring at the tub in your hand. the man is oblivious to what it is, so you throw the small object at him.

“it’s good for getting the dirt out of your pores.” you explain. “you’d be surprised how much there is in there!”

• his reaction is like a cat that’s been given something completely foreign, shaking it, tapping it a little. with a small inspection process, he caves in. he’s exhausted from his workload and needs a break anyway.

• so you both move to the bed, you crawling to nestle in front of him. brushing the hair from his forehead, you plant a gentle kiss before twisting the tub open, you pause.

“oh, wait.”

your body rushes to get up and scoot off, returning with a warm, wet towel.

“this is just to help open your pores up! just sit still.”

• akaashi treats it like a doctor’s exam, doing as you ask and staying perfectly still, holding onto the hem of your shirt and fiddling with it idly as you lightly dab on his face.

• his skin is already naturally clear, it’s what compliments his pretty complexion. you’ve always been SUPER jealous of it, telling him time and time again that he should be thankful he’s been blessed with perfect skin.

• after a minute of that, you pick the face mask up and shift your weight to balance properly, slowly, dipping your finger into the tub and spreading the black substance all over his face. trust me when i say: he is SO confused.

“why does it smell like that?”

“like what?”

“i dunno, kinda spicy.”

“keiji—“

“i don’t know how else to describe it!”

you hush him with another quick peck to the lips and keep going until his face is covered with the face mask. his immediate reaction is to get up and stare at himself in the mirror.

“i look terrifying.”

“nobody else is watching!”

“i know, but still...”

•he pokes his tongue out at his own reflection, before returning to you.

“let me do yours.”

you oblige, warning him to use the stuff sparingly, tying your hair back and letting him reciprocate the same process onto you. akaashi is very cautious and gentle when applying it. he’s sickeningly good at this.

• you two spend the next twenty or so minutes in bed, giggling at each other’s faces. he wraps his arms around you and holds you close, mumbling out half-hearted conversation. you’re okay with it, happy just to be with him.

•the time comes for you to take it off. he jabs at the surface of the mask, alarmed that it’s hardened.

“(y/n), how am i supposed to take this off?”

you scratch your head sheepishly.

“about that...”

• it’s not the easiest process. the once quiet and observant akaashi is now acting like a complete child, whining that it hurts when you tug on the surface. you roll your eyes and tell him it’s normal but he’s having none of it.

“go faster...”

“you have to go slower so that you take all the dirt out. it’s not like a bandaid!”

“but i’m in pain.”

“you’re such a baby.”

• he’s a handful until you finally peel off the last section, the boy’s nose is all scrunched up in distaste, grumbling quietly as you shift your attention to the results, squinting at the underside of the mask. you show him and he quietens down immediately, zoning in.

“what the hell is that?”

“the stuff trapped in your skin.”

“oh my god.”

• he’s grossed out but also weirdly fascinated as to how the mask did that. then, you two move onto taking yours off. keiji sits you on his lap, tugging at it gradually as per your request. quite frankly, he’s offended at how indifferent you are to the pain. you’re used to it.

• he vows never to do it again because it felt like ripping his skin off, but you find later on that month, he’s got his own tub of cosmetic charcoal on the bathroom counter. when you enquire about it, he shrugs nonchalantly.

“it says on the box that it’s less painful but very effective, plus, seeing the results has scarred me. i don’t want that stuff just sitting on my face. let’s do them together, it was fun with you.”

safe to say, you converted him.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #akaashi headcanons #akaashi scenarios #akaashi x reader #hq #i accidentally deleted this post #shhhhh #you didn’t see this #akaashi is a cute boyfie #haikyuu headcanon

[thestraggletag]

The Deal, a RCIJ Fic

Author’s Note: It is I, @iatethebiscuit, your Secret Santa! So happy to say I had NO panicky “DID I HIT THE ANON BUTTON?” moments with you this year, which was a pleasant surprise. Thanks for letting me be your santa and for giving me ideas and support! I hope this is to your liking and happy Christmas in July. which totally should be a real thing.

Also I’m sorry that the summary absolutely BLOWS this time around but I promise it’s a good story!

Prompt: Is the baby okay?

Summary: To wish for a child is a dangerous thing, Belle knows. As it is to make a deal with a creature as old and as powerful as Mr Gold.  But everything worth having required leaps of faith and bouts of bravery, including love.

Rating: M

She smirked, looking at the clock right next to the Children’s Corner to confirm that she had guessed right. As she had imagined it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning. When he’d begun to visit her almost daily Mr Gold made a pretence of stopping by on his way to Granny’s for a lunch break, his entire demeanour as professional and as aloof as ever as he enquired after her child with the same tone as one might enquire after the weather. It was calculated and effortless at the same time and she marvelled at his capacity for subterfuge. If he hadn’t pulled the same stunt at least half a dozen times before she wouldn’t have noticed. She rubbed her swollen belly absentmindedly, smiling down at it.

“He’s been sleeping all day, but I can feel him moving now.”

She was sure it wasn’t a coincidence, sure that her babe could feel Mr Gold the same way she could sense him when he was nearby. She wondered what other people saw when they looked at him, since they clearly could not see what she did.

“Little one must be hungry.” His voice sounded concerned, but she couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or a pretext for what was coming next. “I think a trip to Granny’s is in order.”

Belle was sure he was convinced she’d forget to eat entirely if he didn’t remind her, and to be fair that did tend to happen from time to time, specially when she got her hands on an interesting book. He leaned forward, eyes glowing gold for a second, so faintly she barely caught it.

“You need the protein, dearie. Wee bairn is hungering for something bloody. I must insist.”

His smile was predatory and nowhere near human, and he kept it as she attacked a rare steak in front of him with relish, Ruby commenting on how it was good to see her eating so well.

“Baby’s gonna be a strong little wolf. Granny’s been knitting him an entire winter wardrobe.”

She made sure her friend was out of earshot before laughing.

“I can’t believe it still. No one’s said a peep about it. They just accept the baby, as if it’s completely normal that I just up and got pregnant one day.”

“I did promise you, my dear. And I never break a deal.”

Another shark smile, another flash of gold in his eyes and a bit of scales on his neck. And yet no one else could see it. She had been able to tell right away, though, even from afar. It hadn’t been the first time either, so it hadn’t shocked her. She had always been aware of things most people didn’t see, but hadn’t realised at first it was strange, because her mother had been like her too, had been able to see things that for most people weren’t there. People who glimmered, small creatures that blinked in an out of existence, beings that were see-through or disguised themselves as animals.

She’d hated it, after her mother died, for a long time. Especially during her commitment, when every glimpse of something other had felt like the universe mocking her. She’d had made her peace with it since then, and now saw her oddity as a nice gift from her mother, something to remember her by.

Even though she’d had always been able to see what others didn’t, she couldn’t say she’d ever encountered anything like Mr Gold. Ancient, for one, and powerful, dangerous in a way that had made her wary of approaching him at first. He’d always been cordial and courteous with her, but his reputation as a cutthroat dealmaker had put her off, even though the deals people talked about were not like the one she had in mind. To mix magic with a reputation like that could only spell trouble.

But her need had been too strong, so in the end she had caved in and sought him out, finding out his true name and summoning him. It was an old practice, out of style as he’d told her later, and had caught him by surprise. He above any other fae she’d been able to spot had mastered the art of adaptability: where others struggled and faded he changed and survived, thrived even. He hadn’t thought there were humans who could see into his true nature anymore, not unless he revealed himself.

Luckily he had been amenable to the deal, once she had explained it. A deal with a fairy for a child was as straightforward as it came, once upon a time it had been a common enough bargain for whoever was willing to pay a price. But now, with science and adoption, and the abandonment of the belief in magic and the old ways, it was a rarity. But science hadn’t been enough to help her conceive, and her mental history made adoption impossible in practice, if not in theory.

She had told him that, in the most succinct way possible, unwilling to share more than what was absolutely necessary. When he’d enquired about the potential father of the babe she’d told him there was no one to fill that position. Romantic love had never come easy to her, and certainly never the kind that she’d want to cement in such a permanent way. But she longed for family, for a child. He’d done it before, he told her, granted the wish for a child to a woman with no husband or partner.

“It’s not impossible, but it does come at a steep cost, particularly taking into account what I must contribute. Are you willing to pay it, dearie?”

Fifteen years was a lot of time to shave off her life expectancy, but not so much that it would mean leaving her child motherless before they reached adulthood, which was what she cared most about. He had gone into the back room of his shop, where she could tell most of the objects displayed were not what they seemed, particularly the old spinning wheel in the corner. He’d spun literal straw into Gold- if fit, given his true name- and had fashioned the thread into a small seed, which he had instructed her to ingest if and when she was ready. She had swallowed it with a glass of water the moment she was back at the library and had woken up with a white streak in her hair and her stomach roiling with what she discovered was morning sickness.

She had stopped by his shop to thank him, hugging him in her exuberance. He’d shied away in a manner that was a stark contradiction to his dangerous nature, fingers twitching nervously. He’d looked ancient then, atrophied in some way, before she blinked and his usual mask was back on. He’d congratulated her in a stilted way, assuring her that he always delivered on a deal and all that he detailed in it.

“You’re miles away, Miss French, and that steak’s getting cold.” He gently tapped her wrist, encircled by a gold woven bracelet. “My magic may give the child a lot of what he needs, but it can only do so much.”  

She had almost forgotten how awful the first months of the pregnancy had been. Nothing had stayed down at first. Citrics in particular became revolting to her, as did a lot, if not most, of processed food. Everyone kept telling her it was normal but she grew concerned as she began to lose weight instead of gaining it. When she grew deeply scared she went to Mr Gold, who seemed genuinely offended she had not come to him sooner.

“I promised a healthy bairn, Miss French. You should’ve told me if that promise didn’t seem to be materialising.”

Gingerly, after asking her for permission, he laid a hand on her stomach, closing his eyes and frowning after a few seconds. When he opened his eyes again he looked at her in a strangely speculative way and sent her home with instructions to eat very rare meat and berries. The meal, as unappetising as it had sounded, was delicious and settled nicely in her stomach. No one commented on her new habit of purchasing meat daily- though her librarian budget rankled a bit- nor did they question her long walks in the woods in search of blackberries and the like.

She hadn’t expected to see Mr Gold once the problem resolved itself, though her energy was still flagging and she was having problems with falling asleep several times during the day. But he began to come to the library often, enquiring after a particular book or a topic of interest, and during the conversation he’d ask after the child, as if it was a passing concern. He’d get close sometimes, closer than what she was used to with him in any case, and his visage would turn less human than usual for a moment or two, as if his human facade slipped slightly. 

It wasn’t until he found her dozing off in the Ancient History section that he told her of a notion he’d had for a while, that he could now confirm. He smelt magic around her, which he hadn’t before, and with the further development of the baby had been able to confirm the magic came from him. It was that what was leeching her energy, the wee one’s magical aptitudes developing, using her life force in order to do so.

“An unexpected development, for sure, but not entirely out of the question. Changeling children have always been rare, but nowadays they’re downright a near impossibility. The only time I’ve ever produced a child with only one human parent he was fully human himself, so I had no notion things would not be the same this time around. I do apologise for the inconvenience, Miss French, and have devised a means of helping you through the rest of your pregnancy.”

It was then that he gave her the gold bracelet, which shimmered in a way she knew had nothing to do with the metal it was made out of.

“It’s got enough of my magic to feed the babe. It should make things easier from now on.”

The bracelet had indeed done as he’d promised and soon she began to notice the increasing swell of her stomach. Though she had been afraid of what the townspeople would say, no one commented on it, and if they did it was only to congratulate her. Not one question about the father, or a snide remark on her single status. It was all as Mr Gold promised.

Magic worked mysteriously, but it puzzled her less than the fae himself, who kept turning up at the library or at Granny’s when she was around, something he had not done before. His interest in the child was soon obvious- “I aim to keep my end of the bargain, lest my reputation suffer.”- and surprisingly she found that she did not mind it. Aside from the fascination that his non-human nature inspired he was an old creature, and had lived a fascinating life. One that she could sometimes cajole him into share tidbits of with her, though at first with the clear intention of putting her off and curtail her curiosity. He told her of the wars he’d seen, the violence and horror of the days of old, when magic was much more plentiful and the greed of man and fae had done terrible things with it. He seemed surprised when that did not stop her questions of her welcoming his company, but it did not stop his visits, just changed them in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

He was a hoarder, of both stories and objects. It became usual for him to let her take a peek into the back room of his shop, often telling her about an item there and the power it possessed. Most of them had once been worthy of awe and fear, but time had leached their magic away bit by bit till little remained. Enough to make the object hum to Belle’s eyes and ears, still, but nothing that inspired the feelings Mr Gold did.

She offered bits of herself for every part of his long life he shared with her. Things about her mother and herself, the strange gift they both shared and the bond it had created. One particularly vulnerable afternoon he enquired after her time at the asylum, in hushed, respectful tones. He listened patiently to her recollection of it. Her father had had her committed, soon after her mother’s passing. He’d meant well, which he told her only made things worse, more painful. She hadn’t been able to reconcile with him before he’d passed away, and as she cried, holding on to the fae in a manner she had no right to, he told her he’d seldom met anyone so brave. He’d told her about the other child he’d created with no father, Baelfire, and how he’d also been brave.

“Too brave for someone who could die so easily, though I suppose I was lucky.”

He told her how his mother had made a second deal with him when the lad was around four, giving him up in exchange for riches and adventure, and how he’d raised him up as his own, which he was in a way. They shared enough in terms of blood for the child to be a vulnerability that could be used against him, so he’d taken him in. He’d raised him, thinking that he could one day make a deal with him for eternal life so they could be together. But the child had been too human, and had grown old and faded before his eyes.

It began to worry her, that. Her child, her son, would he be human enough to grow old and die? He didn’t want him to grow lonely, specially since she’d die sooner than even a regular human was expected to. Mr Gold, she’d learned, was painfully lonely, in a way she would never understand, as lonely as she had sometimes felt, particularly at the asylum. To live centuries alone, to watch his kin fade and die…

She had never met a creature more apt for survival. Cunning and patient, clever and powerful, it did not take much to understand how he’d gotten to be so old, and so prosperous. And so tired, at the same time. A long life of isolation sounded like the worst sort of punishment, and she grew worried for her child, for little Gideon. So when she began catching Mr Gold looking at her swollen belly, his hands twitching in that way she knew meant he wanted to reach out, to feel the babe, she grew hopeful. Gideon need not be alone after she was gone if the fae took an interest in him.

The more she thought about it the more it made sense, though she didn’t dare voice her new hope aloud. Instead she concentrated on feeding his budding interest in her child, letting him see ultrasounds and telling him about doctor’s appointments and such. And little by little, day by day, a sort of greed grew in Mr Gold’s eyes. Like a light slowly being turned on inside him, bringing newfound life to him. His dull scales, when they showed, now shone with a deeper gold colour and his presence grew in weight, to the point that Belle could feel him way before he stepped into her Library when he came to visit.

Those visits turn to trips to Granny’s and sometimes back to his shop. A strange sort of tension grew between them, which Belle hoped meant Mr Gold was getting attached, was seeing the possibility offered to him of a child that could be a companion, and was now looking to make a new deal, to tie himself to the child. She pushed further, gently prying into his personal space, where the very air seemed to softly vibrate with the echoes of his restrained power. He was skittish at first, endearingly so, but once the baby started moving he became intrigued by the notion of it, daring to ask once or twice to feel it.

It was unexpected but nice to have a partner through the pregnancy. Mr Gold wasn’t as she had expected, certainly less fearsome than shat had thought at first. Handsome, for sure, in a way that she hoped little Gideon would inherit. That and his sense of humour, dry and dark and just the right kind of strange.

She’d miss the closeness once little Gid was born and Mr Gold would have less incentive to interact directly with her. The closer she grew to her due date the more restless she became, both mentally and physically. Pregnancy, which had given her glowing skin- with the tiniest bit of an unnatural shine, she noticed, her child’s magic and Gold’s mingling on her skin- and great hair, had overstayed its welcome and turned acutely uncomfortable, specially when it came to sleep.

Her discomfort grew to the point that Mr Gold remarked on it, nose scrunched up.

“You reek of desperation, my dear. Whatever is the matter?”

She explained, though she imagined the pacing she was doing was helping her convey her problem more than her words ever could. He tilted his head, considering her.

“Want to strike a deal, Miss French?”

The words were purred at her in his customary brogue, thicker than what was usual. She’d interpreted the deepening of his accent around her as a sign that he had grown comfortable around her. He also dropped his human mask more around her, with his face sometimes entirely covered by his scales and his nails sharpened into claws. She looked forward increasingly to those small glimpses of his true nature.

“What do you have in mind, Mr Gold?”

“I’ll trade you relaxations for… that button on your pocket.”

It was a trifle, a small golden button she’d found at the bottom of her closet, matching none of her clothes. Knowing it for the transparent attempt at help that it was she eagerly handed it over, hoping for a quick magical solution to her problem. Instead, to her quiet disappointment, Mr Gold led her to the spinning wheel in the back room, helping her sit down on the stool beside it and taking a seat on a bench behind her.

“Spinning has always calmed me. There’s something in the rhythm of it, in the motion of the wheel and the feel of the wool on the skin.” His voice was low, like honey. “Almost hypnotic.”

He was quite adept, and Belle had to admit it was relaxing to watch him go through the motions. The wheel made a gentle, steady sound as it spun. She leaned back against the solid chest of the man behind her, thankful when he did not object. She felt him tense up slightly, his magic spiking around him, and she shivered at the sensation of it. Another type of tension grew inside her, a pulsing from below her navel that made her fidget in her seat. 

“Rumple…”

She had used his real only once before, when she’d summoned him, but in the privacy of her own thoughts she’d been referring to him as such for a long time. He made a low, guttural sound behind her, hands dropping the wool and leaving the wheel to slide up her arms and down her torso, curving possessively  around her swollen stomach. She felt his nose against the skin of her neck, his breath causing goosebumps where it touched her. She could tell he was holding himself back but barely, a feral, powerful creature straining against the bonds of his self-imposed restraint. His hands- green-gold and clawed, no longer human- drifted down to spread across her bare thighs, pushing the fabric of her summer dress up around her waist. He didn’t go any further, though, causing her to whimper and shift around. She reached out behind her to grab a fistful of his hair, noticing it curled, no longer straight.

“You… you promised…”

He hadn’t exactly, but it was a way to let him know she was more than okay with it, if he was. Belatedly, as he felt his fingers dip inside her underwear, she recalled the greedy looks she had seen him give her and wondered for the first time if she had misinterpreted them. But just as she felt as if she was about to come to some sort of monumental realisation she felt his fingers inside her, and his other hand cupping her breast. The scent of magic grew strong in the air as she rocked against him, feeling him hard and warm behind her, power made flesh and completely devoted to her needs. Time stretched and contracted as they moved together until with a sharp spark deep inside her cunt she felt the tension explode inside her, making her toes curl and her spine tingle. He followed her a second later with a cry he muffled against her hair, murmuring something in a language she could not understand. She brushed aside all worries about what would come next, with the birth of her child and therefore the end of their first deal, so nearby. If she could have nothing more, she would at least have this.

 For all the magic that had been involved in Gideon’s conception and her subsequent pregnancy, the delivery was as normal as it could be. Her little boy was born after four and a half hours of delivery, looking perfect, specially once the swelling and the redness went down. He was resting peacefully in her arms when Mr Gold showed up, dapper in his three-piece suit and his long coat, a hint of gold about his eyes and the smell of magic around him. Belle cuddled Gideon closer, happy to detect, behind the smell of baby powder, the same scent about him.

“Do you wish to meet him, Rumple?”

It was a bit awkward to treat him in such a familiar manner after what it had happened, but with her son in her arms she felt particularly brave and unwilling to let things become stilted and stiff between them. He approached her cautiously, his face soft and open when he saw the child. It was then that Belle knew she’d done everything right and that he was there to claim the child as partly his. She looked down at the babe, noticing the unnatural shade of blue of his eyes and the very slight golden shimmer of his skin, and smiled in relief. 

“He looks just like you, don’t you think?”

There was no mistaking the child’s origins, not with those ears and nose. The fae came close enough to be able to see the child’s face, but no closer, nervous energy crackling around him.

“He was supposed to look like what you wished. I’m sorry.”

“And is it too hard to imagine I might have wanted him to look like you?”

The light teasing was meant to put him at ease, but it fell flat. If not for the barely-concealed look of longing on the fae’s face as he stared at the child Belle might have thought she had failed altogether in getting him to care for little Gideon. 

“I mean, after all, you’re the child’s father.”

His right hand tightened painfully around the golden handle of his cane, scales rippling across the skin of his neck before disappearing. 

“That’s not entirely true, is it? The deal was clear, the child is yours alone. But, perhaps… Perhaps there could be another deal. Half of the boy’s life for my own. In exchange, I’d share half of my life with you.”

It wasn’t exactly the deal she had anticipated, so it took her a moment to make out exactly what he meant.

“But… you live forever. What exactly are you proposing?”

He took a step closer, and another, till he was within reach. Yet he made no motion to touch the child or herself, though he looked very much like he wanted to do both.

“I’ll share my lifespan with you, Miss French, if you share the child’s life with me. It’d mean moving to my house, so we could build a… a home, so we could both share Gideon’s life. It’d be forever, so you best be sure.”

There was a lot he wasn’t saying. About them, about what he expected and hoped for when he talked of home and of sharing a life. But the look on his face made it abundantly clear. She felt her eyes begin to water and feared for a second that he would misunderstand, so she smiled widely, taking a shuddering breath to steady herself.

“It’s a deal.”

#rumbelle christmas in july #Rumbelle Christmas in July 2019 #Iatethebiscuit #rumbelle fic #Thestraggletag fanfiction #rumbelle

[sunyoonandstars]

BTS scenario 10: Meeting their soulmate for the first time || You x Jungkook

This piece of fiction is based on a lovely request that reached me just yesterday. However, I was so touched and inspired by it, I felt the urge to start working on it immediately. 

Here is what I came up with. @ soulmate anon -- I dearly hope I managed to meet your expectations and that this little story of mine turned out to be even half as beautiful as what you imagined it to be. 🙏🏻💜

Scenario Jungkook is driven by the desire to, one day, meet his soulmate. However, he had not imagined it to happen so soon …

“Jungkook’s eyes met yours only for a brief moment. Still, this split second was all it took to send a surge of thrilling heat through his entire body, the intensity of your gaze leaving every last fiber of his being vibrating and his veins tingling with what felt like a million of tiny electric shocks. He could have sworn his heart literally skipped a beat. Or two. At least. Because those eyes weren’t just any eyes. They were the eyes. The eyes which had been haunting his dreams ...”

FLUFF

word count 2.159

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” 

― Plato, The Symposium

„I mean, I know you’re still young, but I had no idea you’re so naive, Jungkook-ah“, Yoongi muttered, shaking his head as he affectionately patted the Golden Maknae’s back. 

„Why? Why is it ‚so naive‘ of me to want to hold on to the idea that there’s actually a soulmate for me somewhere out there? That there is a person I am meant to be with?“, the younger one snapped back, freeing himself of the rapper’s arm casually thrown around his shoulders, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in a sudden surge of anger. The whole soulmate philosophy was no joke to him, so being teased about it really rubbed him the wrong way. 

„I don’t care what you think anyway“, he shrugged, not sparing Yoongi another glance in striding past him. „And I’m gonna prove you wrong. One day I’ll find her and show you just how foolish your ignorance was.“

Yoongi simply chuckled to himself, watching the younger man angrily walk away, fists clenched, head held high. To be honest, he admired his confidence, even envied him for it. These days, romance was dead. Yet, a young, unusually successful, world-renowned singer and dancer, an idol adored and being fantasized about by millions, the virtual epitome of a generation hungry for instant gratification and deadly afraid of any kind of attachment seemed to believe in the idea of The One. A thought equally hopeful and saddening. 

One could only wish the young man’s spirit would not be broken by this longing for his counterpart ...

The past few days and weeks had been stressful. 

Even now the group was en route to yet another promotional event in Japan, seated in a company van once again headed straight for the airport. Yoongi slept in the backseat, bucket hat placed over his eyes to shield his face from the daylight, Namjoon had put his headphones on as soon as they’d stepped outside the dorm, Taehyung was intently watching the latest episode of one of his favorite anime series’, while Hoseok was focused on reading a book a fan had given to him at a recent meet and greet and Jimin sedulously went through the countless comments fans had left under a selfie of his posted on Twitter just about an hour ago. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to focus on anything in particular. Thanks to Seoul’s early morning rush hour, the ride to the airport dragged on, the car moving excruciatingly slowly through the traffic jam. To pass the time the youngest had tried to keep himself busy by playing a game, listening to music, checking his social media accounts, even reading the news. To no avail. Nothing seemed to be able to spark his interest, let alone keep his mind occupied. Jungkook quickly got distracted, his thoughts drifting back to the haunting dream he’d awoken from in the middle of last night with a racing heart. Ever since then he’d been on edge, highly irritable, unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. He had no idea how he was supposed to get through their performance today. Distraction and failure would not be tolerated. 

Jungkook couldn’t quite point his finger at what it was exactly. But something kept twisting in his chest. It was a strange sensation, unfamiliar to him. As if his heart kept jumping, stuttering or rather fluttering for no reason at all. Or so he thought. 

Maybe it had something to do with this peculiar dream of his, after all. If one could actually call it that. It was rather just a lingering mental image of nothing more than a pair of eyes. The most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Deep and bright, full of hope, warmth, compassion and understanding, intelligence and spirit. Sparkling. Magnetic. Jungkook could still clearly see them before him whenever he as much as blinked. They seemed so real, almost tangible, he had to keep reminding himself that they were only a figment of his imagination. 

„Earth to Jungkook. Hello-o? Earth to Jungkook!?“

He was jolted out of his wandering thoughts by a hand being waved so close in front of his face its form was blurred, out of focus. Annoyed, he brushed it aside, turning to face the person it belonged to.

„Yah, Jimin! Stop it!“

„Jungkook, we’re there. The van has been parked for minutes already. You should get out of the car or we’re gonna miss our flight.“

„Sure, sorry“, Jungkook simply mumbled, nodding his head, evading the older one’s gaze as he stepped out of the car, both feet landing firmly on the concrete. 

„What’s up with you today, Kookie? You’re so absentminded. It’s not like you.“ Jungkook merely shrugged and turned his back on Jimin while putting on his mask and hood, pulling the latter one deep into his face. 

„All right, then don’t tell me. But whatever’s bugging you, I hope you know you can always talk to me. About anything.“

„Yeah, thanks, Jimin. But it’s nothing, really.“

And with those words he departed, mending his pace to catch up with the other members, closely followed by a concerned Jimin, a ring of bodyguards quickly closing around the group of seven. 

As soon as they set foot inside the terminal, the young men automatically started following well-rehearsed and oftentimes-executed procedures, walking close together while the guards kept the crowd from running them down. The singers casually nodded, smiled and waved to their devoted fans who kept ruthlessly pushing and jostling each other in order to get even closer and a better look at their beloved idols.

The seven members endured the turmoil with dignity and good will, not letting on just how much stress they were actually under, staying close together and keeping their heads down. 

Everything went smoothly. Until one figure was suddenly shoved into their very midsts. Your slender form literally flew towards Jungkook, slipping through the security guard’s fingers who were busy keeping a bunch of screeching teenagers off of Jimin in the meantime. Having been pushed, you had obviously lost your balance, were stumbling, falling, flailing your arms in the desperate attempt to hold on to something, anything, in order to catch your fall. Finally, you managed to clutch at Jungkook’s shirt, more reflexively than anything else, your body clashing with his as your fingers dug deeply into the soft fabric of his sweater. Following instinct, he grabbed you by your elbows to help you back up on your own two feet. 

As soon as you were able to steady yourself again, however, you pulled back immediately, bowing your head numerous times, all the while ceaselessly mumbling apologies. Your face remained hidden, covered by a black cotton mask and a curtain of long, shiny hair. 

„No. No need to apologize“, Jungkook stopped you with a wave of his hand. 

„Are you all right? Did you get hurt in any way?“, he inquired. For some reason immensely worried for the wellbeing of this perfect stranger he’d just met for the first time, he bent down to get a glimpse of your face, following the inexplicable, burning urge to do so. And eventually succeeding, just in time before one of the guards gently yet firmly pulled you away from Jungkook to push you back into the crowd of fans. 

Jungkook’s eyes met yours only for a brief moment. Still, this split second was all it took to send a surge of thrilling heat through his entire body, the intensity of your gaze leaving every last fiber of his being vibrating and his veins tingling with what felt like a million of tiny electric shocks. He could have sworn his heart literally skipped a beat. Or two. At least. 

Because those eyes weren’t just any eyes. They were the eyes. The eyes which had been haunting his dreams.

Thunderstruck, the young singer remained frozen in place. Even as the other members bumped into him one after another, Jungkook’s petrification lasted, for seconds that felt like an eternity, his wide eyes, peering over the rim of his mask, staying locked with yours until the boisterous throng eventually devoured you, your sparkling orbs disappearing in the sea of beaming faces. 

„Jungkook, what’s wrong?“, Yoongi enquired, leaning in from the left to catch the younger one’s attention, concern clearly audible in his voice muffled by the fabric of his black mouth mask. 

„Nothing — I just — Hyung, I think I found her“, Jungkook gasped, still out of breath and unmoving.

„Found whom?“

„Her. My soulmate. I think I just saw her.“

„Your soulmate? You saw her?“, the rapper echoed, stupefied. „Are you serious?“

Jungkook barely managed to nod his head in response, repeatedly, mechanically, eyes as big as dinner plates still fixed on the spot where he had last seen you. Only reluctantly did he give in to their manager’s gentle nudging, resisting subconsciously as the taller man’s strong hands determinedly ushered Jungkook toward the terminal’s VIP area where the seven members were supposed to check in, the time of their flight’s departure rapidly approaching.  

„Are you sure?“, Yoongi continued his interrogation, struggling to keep up with Jungkook who now strode significantly faster, apparently unaware of his sudden acceleration, moving as if in trance, blank eyes cast down to the ground. „I mean, how do you even know?“

„I just do, all right!?“, Jungkook unintentionally snapped at the rapper, regretting his brusque tone instantly. „Sorry, but — It’s just — She was right there. I even touched her, okay!? And now she’s just — Gone. My chance at really meeting her or being with her — Gone. I let it slip through my fingers, just like that. She was right in front of me and all I did was stare. And now I’ll never see her again.“

In saying those last words, Jungkook was hit by a realization as sudden and sharp as if he was struck by lightning. Stunned, he stopped cold in his step, going on to whirl around, turning on his heel so abruptly the other members stared at him in bewilderment, uttering incoherent questions. The youngest one, however, rushed past them without looking left or right, eyes, blazing with sudden determination, turned towards a target invisible to them.  

Jungkook didn’t pay any mind to his bandmate’s nervous query or his managers’ indignation and effortlessly shook off the guards following him as he made his way back to the exact spot where he’d last seen you.

Every muscle strained, his posture tense, not daring to even as much as take a breath, Jungkook remained in said place, rigid, again and again letting his anxious gaze wander over dozens and dozens of faces belonging to young men and women who had instantly started to hover around him like a buzzing swarm of bees as soon as they’d recognized his features. 

But you were nowhere to be found. 

Until …

Finally, exhaling a sigh of relief, Jungkook’s posture relaxed the very moment his glance met yours, your eyes locking across the terminal. 

The whole of the universe seemed to slow down just for you, everything happening as if in slow motion, while the two of you hesitantly approached each other, step by step, lastly meeting halfway. 

„Hey“, was the only word Jungkook managed to breathe he as pulled down his mask to show a shy smile, laughter lines, like delicate petals, edging the corners of his warm brown eyes.

„Hi“, you replied, no less bashful, mirroring his gesture and in doing so, at long last, revealing your face, the sight of it leaving the young singer astounded. You were even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

„Do I know you?“, he now asked, slightly tilting his head to the right. By now his cheeks had begun to hurt. Nonetheless, Jungkook couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling sheepishly. 

„I don’t think so“, you replied, your eyes shining just as brightly as he recalled them, their image edging itself even deeper into his memory now that he was faced with them in real life, making for the exact same sight as in his dream the night before, even down to the last, most tiny and supposedly insignificant detail. 

„Why?“, you wondered aloud, not without a hint of suspicion.

„Don’t worry“, Jungkook simply grinned, his eyes gleaming, never once leaving yours. „I’m sure all of this is not a coincidence.“

„Good“, you nodded approvingly. „Because I don’t believe in coincidence.“ Your expression now turning more serious, almost solemn, you confidently stretched out a trembling hand for Jungkook to shake. 

„My name is y/n“, you introduced yourself, a faint blush tinting your cheeks a soft shade of rosy pink. 

„Nice to finally meet you, y/n.“

THE END

I feel like I didn’t do our Jungkook and this lovely request justice and like this actually sucks 🙈😭 But I hope you liked it anyway and are having a wonderful day, wherever you are! 

Thanks for reading! Take care! 💜

Here you can find my Masterlist if you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction!

All GIFs used are NOT mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

#bts #bts request #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts x you #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #bts x boyfriend #bts dna #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x you #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook soulmate #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook scenario #bts jungkook reaction #bts romance #jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook soulmate #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario

[jaxonah]

BTS- How they started dating a non celebrity

(for anon)

Jin-

- you guys actually met on the streets.

-you bumped into him on accident and him being the sweetheart he is, asked if you were okay and held onto your arm to make sure you were steady.

-the second your eyes met, you fell in love.

-the boys could immediately tell he felt something with you.

-asks you for your number and if he could take you on a coffee date anytime soon.

-his celebrity status is sometimes complicated but that doesn’t take away the love you have for your mr. worldwide handsome.

Suga-

- met you at a coffee shop.

-ordered what you ordered just cause he couldn’t stop staring at you when you walked in and he wanted to see what you liked.

-namjoon and Jin has to convince him to go talk to you.

-they also had to convince him that you were absolutely staring at him.

-you noticed the mood in the shop immediately shift once he pulled his mask down and revealed himself to be the one and only suga.

-ignored it and sits in front of you anyways, enquiring for your name.

-he absolutely loves having a low key love who can handle his status.

-you are his muse now.

J- Hope-

-actually met you while on tour in the US

-him and the boys watched a group of b boys on the street that had attracted a crowd.

-his eyes were first on the moves until they traveled to the side of him and saw you standing beside him.

-swore he’s never seen such a beautiful smile.

-suga pushes him into you to force you two to communicate.

-falls in love with your voice.

-absolutely loves and spoils you the way he thinks you deserve.

-always assures you that you’re his favorite ARMY.

Rap Mon-

-met you at a book store.

-you both reached for the same book.

-instantly recognized him but kept your calm and cool about it, as to not scare him away.

-loves how easy you were to talk to and your brains.

-loves taking you everywhere and showing you off.

-laughs once you reveal that you knew he was from the beginning.

-“I know. I saw your phone screen babe.”

Jimin-

-saw you at a restaurant, eating with your family.

-payed for the check before you guys had the chance.

-when you came to thank him and jungkook, he smiled that sweet shy smile and politely asked for your number.

-adores you unbelievably much.

-begs for you to come to practice so you can watch and praise him afterwards.

-gets stressed out due to his celebrity status a lot.

-but loves that you make him feel calm and at home.

V-

-met you at a clothing store you worked at.

-he kept asking obvious questions just because he wanted to talk to you.

-“do you get off anytime soon? Would you like to go for a drink?”

-his rectangle smile brings you nothing but joy.

-begs you to quit your job and assures that he can take care of you.

-remind him that you like your job and can take care of yourself.

-spoils the shit out of you instead.

Jungkook-

-legit met you at a McDonald’s late at night while on nugget run with Jin.

-kept watching you laugh and have fun with your friends in line.

-payed attention to when you ordered just cause he wanted to hear what you sounded like.

-Jin had to go talk to you for him at first.

-love you unconditionally now.

-treats you like a queen.

-loves how you keep him grounded.

#bts imagine #bts reaction #bts request #bts scenarios #anon #requests open #Jungkook #Jimin #Jin #bts taehyung #Namjoon #Yoongi #Hoseok

[the-brooklyn-cavalry]

ANON ABUSE IS DISGUSTING

You know who you are if you’ve sent anon abuse, and you know what you’ve sent and to whom, and I am so absolutely, unbelievably furious right now. I understand that in life you may not approve of someone’s life choices, their decisions of what to do with their leisure time, or just may not like them full stop. However, this does not mean that you have any right to abuse them in any way, shape or form. This includes verbal abuse, manipulation, and harassment - it is never okay to do this! There are people out there, yes, who are paedophiles, who lie about their age to involve themselves with children for their own personal gain over everything else. However, that does not mean that every person who isn’t a teenager on this damn hellsite who interacts with teenagers and younger people in general is a paedophile, and it is not okay to assume anything about someone who you do not know! You don’t know their story or anything about them even remotely, and you are cowardly enough to not ask questions politely but to try to hide yourselves behind ‘anon’ and the mask of the screen and hurl abuse at someone to make yourself feel better. Under no circumstance is it okay to bully someone - especially to the point where they feel they have to abandon their blog or take, heaven forfend, more drastic action, just because you’re too cowardly to get some fucking courage and maybe enquire as to their situation before judging so harshly, or maybe take a chill pill and walk the fuck away instead of being so despicable! Anonymous abuse has taken lives in the past, because people couldn’t learn to leave situations that they didn’t like - the block button is there for a reason! You don’t like someone’s content, or who they are, just block them! They won’t care! It’s so much more kind, humane, you know, fucking decent, than sending message after message and ganging up on an innocent individual just because you don’t approve of them or what they’re doing. That is childish behaviour, from the playground. Grow the fuck up. In real life, you walk away. You don’t like someone? You don’t talk to them, or you shut up. You don’t see them and immediately start telling them how much you hate them! You don’t like a job? You quit, or you shut up. You don’t go and do nothing but complain the whole day in front of your manager and attacking people because of it. Just because the anonymous option is there doesn’t mean you should abuse it! It is never okay to attack someone, being malicious. You know exactly who you are, and I say now you are disgusting human beings. You should feel ashamed of yourselves, and get the hell off this site. This site celebrates diversity, it isn’t a place for just teenagers, there are adults on this site too, so stop trying to protect your ‘territory’ and fuck the hell off, you assholes, you’re nothing more than playground bullies who need to grow the hell up and understand their behaviour is not acceptable, and no-one with any sense of decency will condone it even a fraction.

#anon abuse #ooc #rant #you know exactly who the fuck you are

[iiroiiros]

Hey Ryo, did you ever notice that the protagonist of Code: Grass has a really similar voice to you?

"Yeah, it's...it was definitely kind of weird. It made the show hard to watch at first, but I got used to it when I began rewatching it."

"Not gonna lie though, he's one of my fictional idols."

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[“ WE WILL TAKE THIS COUNTRY! ” | ryo.chr] #((>:3 anon u get it

[secretbelievertimetravel-blog]

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love! (10)

O that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

I am too bold: 'tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven (20)

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

Juliet.

Ay me!

Romeo.

She speaks.

O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven (30)

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Juliet.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo.

[Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: (40)

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name, which is no part of thee, (50)

Take all myself.

Romeo.

I take thee at thy word.

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptis'd;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Juliet.

What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night,

So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo.

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee. (60)

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Juliet.

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Romeo.

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

Juliet.

How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Romeo.

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, (70)

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:

Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

Juliet.

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Romeo.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet

And I am proof against their enmity.

Juliet.

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

Romeo.

I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes,

And, but thou love me, let them find me here; (80)

My life were better ended by their hate

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Juliet.

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

Romeo.

By love, that first did prompt me to enquire.

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot, yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea,

I should adventure for such merchandise.

Juliet.

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek (90)

For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny

What I have spoke. But farewell compliment.

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay',

And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,

They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:

Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, (100)

So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;

And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light:

But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware,

My true-love passion: therefore pardon me;

And not impute this yielding to light love

Which the dark night hath so discovered. (110)

Romeo.

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops --

Juliet.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Romeo.

What shall I swear by?

Juliet.

Do not swear at all.

Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee. (120)

Romeo.

If my heart's dear love --

Juliet.

Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast! (130)

Romeo.

O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

Juliet.

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

Romeo.

The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

Juliet.

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:

And yet I would it were to give again.

Romeo.

Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

Juliet.

But to be frank, and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee, (140)

The more I have, for both are infinite.

Nurse calls within

I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!

Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.

Stay but a little, I will come again.

Exit, above.

Romeo.

O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.

Being in night, all this is but a dream,

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

Re-enter JULIET, above.

Juliet.

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable,

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, (150)

By one that I'll procure to come to thee,

Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;

And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay

And follow thee my lord throughout the world.

Nurse.

[Within] Madam!

Juliet.

I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,

I do beseech thee--

Nurse.

[Within] Madam!

Juliet.

By and by, I come:--

To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: (160)

To-morrow will I send.

Romeo.

So thrive my soul--

Juliet.

A thousand times good night!

Exit, above.

Romeo.

A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from

their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Retiring.

Re-enter JULIET, above.

Juliet.

Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; (170)

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,

With repetition of my Romeo's name.

Romeo.

It is my soul that calls upon my name:

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears!

Juliet.

Romeo!

Romeo.

My dear?

Juliet.

At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee? (180)

Romeo.

At the hour of nine.

Juliet.

I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Romeo.

Let me stand here till thou remember it.

Juliet.

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,

Remembering how I love thy company.

Romeo.

And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,

Forgetting any other home but this.

Juliet.

'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:

And yet no further than a wanton's bird; (190)

Who lets it hop a little from her hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo.

I would I were thy bird.

Juliet.

Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night! parting is such

sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow. (200)

Exit above

Romeo.

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!

Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,

His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[iiroiiros]

a whisper on the wind, like a chime of laughter and a distant dream. a voice over your shoulder, like an old friend and a new hope all the same. it asks if there's anything you'd want, if you could put a name to it. anything, anything at all. [ to whoever responds the fastest ]

unprompted

The Knight of Beauty to be whipped around when she heard the voice, carmine eyes wide when she realized there was nobody there but her. Nobody else on her small ship, and a lesser person might have been afraid of ghosts or memoria. But not her, not Freya, not in the least. In fact, maybe it was finally, finally a blessing from Idrila. "...My Aeon, is that you?" The snowy-hair Knight pressed a hand over her heart as she knelt in place, head bowed and looking every bit the devoted follower. Though, maybe it sounded a little too casual for how she imagined THEM to be, she nonetheless pricks up pointed ears to attempt to hear more. "Idrila, if you are listening, please, I...I wish to meet other Knights. I want to know that I'm not alone in this universe."

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[ ASTRAL VISITOR | guest muse] #((finally got a name for this girlypop woot

[iiroiiros]

Zhongli, why does Natalee call you babygirl?

bbgirl

"...I still don't particularly understand some modern turns of phrase, you see? What I've been given is that it's a kind of term of affection? A bit unusual for one, as it has been an exceedingly long time since I could have been considered female, but I won't stop my beloved from using it. In fact, I think I rather like it, and I would very much like to refer to her as my 'babygirl' as well."

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[“ I WILL HAVE ORDER. ” | zhongli.chr] #[ ;zhongnat tag tba ] #((absolute grandpa

[iiroiiros]

For funsies, what if Kefka was chucked at your warrior of light

unprompted

"...Not that pain in the arse of a fight again..." Well, at least it wasn't as bad as the fight against that Catastrophe thing.

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[“ THIS IS OUR FUTURE. . .OUR STORY. ” | io.chr] #((i may have little more than passing knowledge of most of the other ff games but #((i am very open to crossover shenanigans 👀

[iiroiiros]

🌸 Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile!! ❤❤❤❤ 🌸

unprompted

hello?!?!? thank you anon ahhhhhh

#[ PONDERING OF WORLDS | ask] #[ MASKED ENQUIRER | anon] #[ BEYOND SKIES | ooc]