Yoosung - Two words - Chocolate - Milk - It’s just too easy - So at first, Yoosung thinks she’s the cutest thing - But that’s because he doesn’t know - Y'all were chilling in his room one night watching a movie - Mid-movie the sky starts throwing up over the whole area and it’s Coming Down - Yoosung goes to make sure he closed all the windows - And your sister, man she’s a slick one because .2 seconds later she is Gone - Y'all start up the movie again, but a few minutes in you hear scratching at the windows - And something that sounds like… - Screaming? - Yoosung is straight up quivering next to you - He’s holding your shoulders a bit too tight and the movie’s still going but neither of you are paying attention now - All of a sudden the room is plunged in pitch black darkness - The glow of the TV’s gone and none of the lamps are on anymore - The scratching and the screaming’s stopped (or maybe you just can’t hear it over Yoosung’s teeth chattering) - Come get ya man - But then… you two hear the door creak open - You’re starting to get goosebumps and y'all hear footsteps coming down the hallway and you’re huddling together under that h*ckin blanket like it’s gonna do something for you - But then the footsteps stop - It’s quiet - Suddenly there’s hands grabbing your feet and the blanket gets ripped away and you guys give the most piercing shriek ever heard by mankind - Then the lights come on and - Of course. Why didn’t you see it coming? - I mean Yoosung couldn’t have but you at least should've— - Hold up, Yoosung, are you crying?? - Somebody save this poor boy from your family
Zen - Zen thought he knew what he was getting into when you told him you have a little sister - bOY WAS HE WRONG - When he first met her things were fine - Things were just swell - But the second time - You had asked if she could come hang out with y'all at Zen’s house - And of course his answer was yes - You were cuddling with Zen on the couch catching up on The Bachelor - He asked, “Where’s your sister?” - And your heart sank - He gets up to start looking and before you can say anything he’s found a note that reads - “Saw a nice man with some candy by the window so I went to go play with him! Be back soon!” - You tried to explain it was probably a prank but Zen was Not Having It - Like boy listen - He practically dragged you around searching the streets around his place for an HOUR - You two head back to the house to call the police - And sitting on the couch - Eating popcorn - Watching The Bachelor - Like she /owns the place/ - Is your little sister - Zen is Confused - You were about to slap that sly grin off her face when Zen rushes towards her - He’s asking a million different questions and passing a hand over every inch of her to make sure that she’s okay - It’s all incredibly sweet until you realize - She’s got him wrapped around her tiny little finger
Jaehee - This should be interesting - So your brother likes pranks right - And Jaehee… - Let’s just say that Jaehee is way too smart to fall for any 6-year-old’s run-of-the-mill prank - So where do we go from here - Well since wreaking general havoc is sort of your brother’s area of expertise he manages to convince Jaehee to let him in the kitchen at the coffee shop - You tried your hardest okay but she thought it was fine and you couldn’t tell her no - So day one in the coffee shop kitchen ft. Your Brother was actually pretty okay - You were pleasantly surprised and, tbh, kinda impressed that he was being this mature - How could you have been so foolish - Day two was a beAST - You went in the kitchen that morning to get things started and right away you realized the espresso machine was shot - Okay, we can fix this. It happens, right? - After some pokes and prods, a couple ‘try turning it off and back on again’s and a few solid smacks with the palm of your hand, the machine was up and running again - But a handful of minutes later some regular customers came back to the register and asked if you had put your new coffee on the menu yet - Wat - You asked Jaehee about it and she said she had no idea, so you made yourselves a cup of coffee and for some strange, inexplicable and totally confounding reason, the coffee was pink - You made a few more and they all came out different colors - Pastel blue, purple, green, and orange - Jaehee was about to start dissecting the machine to fix the problem - When like 3 other people came up to the register asking for colored coffee - ??? - Is this a thing now - Well it had tasted fine - So uh - Why not? - Soon it became your best selling drink - You serve it with whipped cream and glitter - And that’s the story of how your brother’s prank got you tons of business
Jumin - Someone help this man - Because Jumin likes wine and I mean when would a kid ever go in his house so why would he need to hide all the wine - So when your brother came over with you to Jumin’s humble abode - The plan was set from the minute that little devil stepped foot inside - The two of you had been discussing Jumin’s latest cat project idea in his study - And you heard something spilling in the kitchen?? - Like the tap was running or something - So Jumin got up to check it cause no way is this guy letting My Love stAND UP??? Sacrilege! - After a little bit you heard “MC, get in here!” - You hadn’t heard him sound quite so urgent before so you started getting worried - And when you walk in the kitchen there it is - The trickster demon known as your brother - Laying on the ground, lips stained red - And there’s a bottle of wine teetering on the edge of the counter spilling all over the ground - There’s an empty wine glass too - Jumin, this guy, he just doesn’t know what to… - He just doesn’t know - It’s actually pretty amusing like his eyes are all wide and his mouth is just slightly open - You’d probably kiss him if your brother wasn’t “passed out” on the ground - Poor Jumin, he gets even more confused when you’re tugging your brother up by the ear - You try to make your brother clean it but Jumin vacantly dismisses it - He’s still not getting it when you’re apologizing for the mess and insisting you should go - You kissed him goodbye and he hardly moved - But while you two were walking out the door he could have sworn he heard you say “stealing my lipstick was overkill”
Seven - No man is safe - You have to double check before you sit down anywhere - Eating is terrifying - And don’t even get me started on sleeping?? - You’ve woken up on multiple occasions with spray cream all over you or with a fake mustache drawn on - Once when the little devils were feeling particularly bold, you had woken up with a LAMP balanced on your back - Like?? That’s breakable??¿? - It’s kind of sort of exactly like having two Sevens in the house - But don’t make the mistake of thinking that this will go unpunished - You will have your revenge - There’s been talk of a video game pow-wow between the two of them for a while - GTA won’t be the only thing getting played today (HA THAT WAS GOOD IM PROUD OF MYSELF) - They’re getting ready to play when your brother plops down on the couch… and right onto your trap - Stage 1 of Operation Taste Your Own Medicine has commenced - This gigantic fart rips out from under him - You hid a whoopee cushion under the couch cushion and Seven is Cracking Up - They launch into a debate over who did it and it’s getting intense when a vicious tickle fight breaks out - Just the diversion you needed - You slip into the bathroom quietly and grab the key to ultimate sovereignty - “Seven,” you call - He’s too immersed in the action to hear you… just like you planned - All of a sudden you’re clutching your stomach and gasping for air, stumbling through the room towards those two, and you trip and fall onto the floor next to them - Now that you’ve got their attention, it’s time to commence Stage 2 - “Hon, are you okay?” Seven asks, concerned - You respond with a grunt - “Water” you wheeze - As Seven gets up and hurries to grab you a glass your hand loosens around what you’re holding and a pregnancy test clatters onto the ground - Your brother picks it up and gasps - Seven jogs back over with the water, but stops when he sees what your brother’s holding - His face goes slack - You have Released the Kraken™ - These poor babies have no idea how pregnancy works do they - It’s way to easy to convince them that you’re already having pains and cravings - It’s been a few hours now and you’re relaxing on an ocean of pillows and blankets - You’ve gotten every single thing you’ve asked for since then, including but not limited to triple chocolate muffins, shrimp cocktail and a bar of soap - You probably should tell them the truth soon - But the royal treatment isn’t half bad ;)
stories are set in Baker Street and London in general, and if they
have to go to the country to investigate, Holmes and Watson usually
return to Baker Street by the night train (interesting enough, that
thought), but when they are forced to spend the night in a hotel,
they manage to end up sleeping in the same room ridiculously often.
Sherlock, Mofftisson made fun of this, I think:
of the Baskervilles:
Eh, sorry we couldn’t do a double room for you boys.
That’s fine. We-we’re not…
they are more open in the original canon that in the series, for
crying out loud!
Valley of Fear, chapter 4
Wilson: There has been nothing like this
that I can remember. There are some bits that will come home to you,
Mr. Holmes, or I am mistaken. And you also, Dr. Watson; for the
medicos will have a word to say before we finish. Your room is at the
Westville Arms. There’s no other place; but I hear that it is clean
and good. The man will carry your bags. This way,gentlemen, if you
Man with the Twisted Lips
Watson,” said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through the
gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from its side
lanterns. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?
I can be of use.”
a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still more so. My
room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.”
Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in
engaging a bedroom and sitting-room at the Crown Inn.
to Watson: This little inn just
opposite Armstrong’s house is singularly adapted to our needs. If you
would engage a front room and purchase the necessaries for the night,
I may have time to make a few inquiries.
Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after
eleven. He had obtained a large ordnance map of the neighbourhood,
and this he brought into my room, where he laid it out on the bed,
and, having balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke
over it, and occasionally to point out objects of interest with the
reeking amber of his pipe.
Boscombe Valley Mystery
We drove to the Hereford Arms where a room had already been
engaged for us.
It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our rooms
once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in a few
minutes dressed as a common loafer.
Street rooms, but it is Waston’s room that is located upstairs!
What was Holmes doing there? Has he moved in with Watson?)
to Watson: We have shared the same room for some years, and
it would be amusing if we ended by sharing the same cell.
Exactly how closely are those two living together in the books?
i’m here to request a nsfw prompt for alfie and alyona ;) it’s not
detailed so you can go anyway you like with this but could you write a
smutty one shot about them doing the dirty deed in alfie’s
office😉😉thank youuuuu and there’ll me more coming ur way :)
WARNINGS - NSFW, 18+
Alfie jumped startled from where he sat behind his desk, feet
raised upon the scattered papers, when the door to his office flew open,
hitting the glass wall behind.
“What the hell is this?!”
Alyona stood small and angry in the door frame, a piece of
paper held tight in her fist. Which was
raised and shaking at him, making the paper flop like a limp sail. Eyes narrowed, he considered her
confrontational stance; eyes roaming the length of her body. He could see it held rigid even from across
the room. Keen gaze lingered on the slender
legs, curve of her hips and finally the heaving swell of her bosom, as she
waited his reply.
His eyes finally lifted to meet her own; fingers distractedly
working his beard. Fuck but she’d been
in a mood all day it seemed. He had
been hoping that keeping her busy would help work off her temper. Clearly he’d been wrong.
“Hello love. Rough day?” He rubbed the whiskers around his full mouth;
ghost of a smile hiding behind.
“Don’t you patronize me right now Alfie, I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, it’s some kind of mood, innit?” He ignored the glare that cast daggers at his
head, tipped his hat – he knew it made her weak in the knees. “Let me see that… since I can’t fuckin read
from a mile away.”
His hand reached out for the paper, as she stormed closer,
heels pounding so hard there were probably little dents of anger in his floor. Alfie took the paper, raised his half glasses
and quickly scanned the contents. His
brow knitted in confusion. Just a
regular work order; he didn’t see any cause for her anger.
“Well it’s a regular work order love, nothing to get all
worked up over.” His brow furrowed as he
looked at her standing in front of his desk, arms folded across her chest and
foot tapping the floor. He tossed the
paper back on his desk. Hell but he wasn’t
exactly in the mood to be dealing with feminine temper he didn’t have a hope in
hell of understanding either.
Her voice pitched high within the space, “It’s not a regular
work order Alfie dammit. It’s changed
the whole routine for the day… work I already did is now pointless, AND I have
to go back and redo other work to now fit THIS.” She picked up the paper and then tossed it
back at him. His brow furrowed deeper.
“I’m sorry Alyona, I am really, but it’s not like I could
prevent it. And just get Gil to help ya…
that’s why I fucking hired the lad. To work.” His feet lowered from the desk and he leaned
forward a tone of impatience coating his words, “Ya know work… that thing I pay ya, to do.”
Her jaw dropped, “Ohh, that’s what I’m here for am I? To do your bidding?”
Once again Alfie, normally very astute regarding the flow of
conversation, was at a loss as to the direction of her thoughts. He leaned back, spread his arms wide and
with dumbfounded look, “What? The. Hell?”
Her mouth opened and closed, words half uttered but losing
their force as she struggled to give voice to whatever emotions swirled inside
her. Watching her pass from anger, to
confusion, to finally a frustrated sigh, Alfie suddenly leaned forward once
“Alyona.” He waited
until her eyes raised to meet his own. “Are
ya picking a fight with me?”
He could tell by the colour that immediately rose in her
cheeks that he had finally hit the truth.
Rising from his desk, he slowly advanced around its edge, lean fingers
trailing along the wood as he held her now unsure gaze.
“Now why would ya be doing something like that love?” Folding his arms across his chest he stopped
before her. Felt the tension coiled
inside her and a wicked smile carved his features. “A man such as myself…known of short
temper. Likely to take matters into my own
hands… hard. Fast.”
Her chest rose and he heard the hitch of her breath. Jaw slackened, her pretty, little pout of a
mouth once more trying to utter words stuck in her throat. But her eyes… they held his own and a fire
burned within those swirling depths. The
challenge she silently issued. His hands
raised to grab either side of her head, his voiced rasped against the skin of
“Get on the floor.”
One tiny part of her mind knew she should have resisted
him. Pretended to fight harder. But her knees submitted and slid to the
floor, before her will registered even a tiny slip of a feigned defense. His fingers tangled in her long hair, while
the other hand unfastened his trousers where she could see the bulge of his erection
straining against the fabric. He freed his
swollen cock, its head already glistening a drop of his own now raging
need. His hand ran over its length with
a few slow pumps and her lips inadvertently parted as the desire swept through
her. Eyes still holding his own, eyelids
fluttering, she reached up and took him in her soft hands. Alfie’s
arms dropped to his sides and he leaned back against the desk for support.
Bending her head, she took his long length into her
mouth. Alfie watching every inch of
himself slowly enveloped by her warm mouth, his breath held, fists clenched at
his sides. The urge to grab her head
and guide her motions a battle waged and nearly lost, as her mouth and tongue
stroked and sucked a fire into his gut.
He sensed this was not about his need, but something within her; a need
she couldn’t name but judging from how she hummed and moaned upon his throbbing
cock, was desperate to fulfill. She
swirled her tongue about the tip, around the sensitive underside and his head
tipped back and almost gave in to the intense pleasure.
“Fuck … God Alyona….easy…”
His hands finally twisted in her hair, but in attempt to tug her off
before he erupted. Instead she swallowed
his entire length and as he hit the back of her throat his knees damn near
buckled beneath him. With some force he
squeezed her head and she finally released him with a loud, sucking pop.
Fuck no one ever worked him better.
“Hell love… I said easy…”
There was victory and wickedness in her gaze, and it sent
another jolt of heat straight to his already flaming desire. With one strong hand he raised her, while
the other dove straight up her skirts and pushed her panties aside. Already
dripping with need and he groaned in his chest, pushing her up against the
desk. If he was in charge, and he didn’t
fool himself that he was, he would have turned her pert backside up and pounded
the climax right out of her. But he could see that her eyes still had a
challenge, the embers still brightly burning, as she settled upon the desk and
kicked her panties off. They hit his
chest and she smirked, catching her full bottom lip in her teeth. He grabbed her hips, bringing her to the edge
and drove himself in with no hint of gentleness. If it was a hard fucking she wanted, she was
damn well going to get it. Only too happy to oblige this unexpected
wanton need, he thrust wildly into her soft flesh.
Heart pounding as the desk shook, and papers fell to the
floor; the one lamp balanced dangerously close to the edge, and still he could see
the lingering clasp she maintained on her will. Keeping this pace, he was desperate for
release, but he’d be damned if he let that happen. Death first before this little minx got the
better of him. Fuck he loved her with a
madness he’d never known. Loved that
she craved him like this. Suddenly he
pulled out slowly, held her gaze for a moment before gliding back in her wet
and warm walls with an exquisite slowness.
Saw the surrender of will as it left her gaze and her face
softened. Slow and gentle he fucked all
the tension and heat right out of her skin; every nerve opened to him. When her eyes rolled back and her head
tipped to his ceiling, he smirked in satisfaction, but it was when the begging
begin he truly knew she was his.
“God.. Alfie, fuck please… please.”
Her hips strained up against him and he swore his prick was
now stroking bone. Her arms reached
back and gripped the far edge of the desk and her back arched up, raising her
hips even further so that he was pulled even deeper. All the air left his lungs and the blood
rushed to his head when he felt her clench and clamp around his pulsing
shaft. Legs locked about his waist,
trembling and shaking as her climax tore through her entire body. Her teeth biting down so hard to halt her moans,
he saw she’d drawn blood. Eyes glued to
her, he managed a few more fast and deep thrusts before he exploded inside her with
a guttural shout; his own body shaking in long drawn out convulsions that
rocked him to his core. He didn’t even
know how he was still standing. His legs
had gone numb, and he’d pay for this tomorrow.
He would have no regrets of course.
Keen eyes scanned the still heavily breathing body laid out beneath
him. Her eyes were closed and one hand
lay across her forehead. Lightly he
stroked the soft curve of her hip while his own breathing calmed. Finally her eyes opened and she sought his
gaze, a hesitant smile etched her lovely, flushed face. Raising on her elbows, she loosed a heavy
sigh. His brow raised as he stared back.
“Feel better, yeah?”
She could only nod feebly, a measure of uncertainty in her
eyes. He reached for her hands and
pulled her against his chest, stroked her long hair, while she collapsed against
him fully spent.
“Has been a day, has it love?”
Felt the nodding of her head, before it turned and lightly
pressed a kiss against his bristled neck.
He chuckled softly as he kissed her temple.
“Yeah, well glad I could be here for ya.” His strong hands ran down the length of her
back. “I mean, officially ya know I’m a
bit offended to be used so… but listen sweetie…”
She swatted him lightly and met his eyes; saw the teasing
glint within though he tried to hold onto the feigned offense. “No yer not, and yer a shitty liar Alfie
Solomons.” She kissed him softly.
He pulled her in for a lengthier kiss, and then drawing back
chuckled lightly. “It’s not lying love…
it’s negotiating. And I think ya must
know, I’m the best at resolving…” he cast a wink at her, “tense situations,
At least she had the decency to blush, and he loved her even
more for it. She licked her lips as
though ready to devour him again. Alfie
fastened his trousers, and then pulled her legs back around his waist and
walked them over the couch. Sinking down
into the cushions, he cradled her close.
“So, how do you think ya will feel tomorrow… because ya know I
got a busy schedule and ya can’t just come barging in demanding sex sweetie.”
Her chest shook against his own as she laughed, squeezing him
He shifted slightly and groaned softly. “Fuckin hell… I think I pulled my back love.”
(Bonus fic for this week! Holidays inspire me, haha.)
Description: After Rafe’s parents pass away, you take him along with you to do some Black Friday shopping. However, he has never gone before and the entire thing turns out to be somewhat of a disaster…
You look over your shoulder.
Rafe is holding up a t-shirt by the tips of his fingers as if the very fabric
is going to burn him. The t-shirt itself is a faded brown colour with a cartoon
octopus on it.
“Why is an octopus on it?” He
demands to know, as if you have designed the shirt yourself.
“It’s just cute, Rafe.”
He shakes his head impatiently,
“No, it’s hideous. That’s why it’s on sale.”
“Everything is on sale. It’s
Black Friday.” You remind him.
He scowls and turns away to another
rack of clothes. This is Rafe’s first time dealing with Black Friday and it has
been going about as well as you expected – terribly. You go every year. After
you moved away from your family, it made sense to spend the day scoping out the
best deals. There was no one to spend Thanksgiving with, after all, so you
might as well buy some great stuff to mail to everyone.
This is your third year. You
have a schedule you usually follow once you get to the mall. By the end of the
day, you are exhausted but content with your purchases.
SUMMARY Aelin finds out she’s pregnant and well this is how Rowaelin handles it
AELIN Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, Pig of the House. She does not have to open her eyes to know that her carranam has left, silk sheets cold beneath her fingers, the sunlight just lightly and softly warming her cheeks. The bed hardly dips when she stretches, toes curling and flopping back on her stomach. She peels one eyelid open lazily, the shimmering blue peeking from beneath her lashes. She can almost hear Rowan’s voice, light with mirth, “you would think a Queen’s day would be filled with…queenly duties - really it’s more filled with late mornings and eating chocolate.” And she’d add, “don’t forget - ”, and he’d interrupt her, as he always does, “- and soapy lavender baths.”
She tells Imaginary Rowan to shut the hell up and let her continue sleeping, but even then she has more self-discipline than that, and eventually drags herself off the bed, hair in tangles and face morphed to form a perpetual yawn. She lazily goes over to her dresser and brushes her hair, and for some reason this morning the lightest of tugs on her locks sends a stinging sensation to her delicate scalp. She grumbles under her breath and humming a little song while she starts to strip off her nightgown, pulling out one of Rowan’s shirts and letting the collar dip past her left shoulder. No one is in the palace tending and fussing over her today, so she leaves her legs bare, letting them soak in the indoor sun and spring breeze.
The drawing room isn’t all that big, which would be the cause of a dozen bookshelves lined up next to each other and pressed to the wall. When she’d insisted on adding the bookshelves, Rowan and protested vehemently and then wondered why he’d bothered to try changing her mind, then sighed, patting her head, “do as you wish, Your Majesty.” By the Wyrd, she’d nearly considered drawing Damaris from the knight in the corridor, and hitting his head with the hilt right then. Once for sighing on her and twice for calling her that blasted title. Perhaps another for good measure but then he’d turned around and swooped her by the back and thighs and laughed, kissed her neck, and said,“you may do whatever you want, Fireheart.”
Terrasen be damned, she’d let it all burn to hear that laugh forever. Hell, she’d very nearly passed Maeve the wyrdkey for him.
She brings a few crackers and chocolate chips in, and a dollop of sour cream on the side. It isn’t until she is inside the drawing room that she realizes what the heck did I just put on this plate. Appetite lost, she reaches over the seat and slides a book out of the shelf, a hardcover mauve made of cloth and stitched with a gold design by the border. She hardly reads anymore, because, contrary to popular belief(more like Rowan’s, the people loved her, really), she does have to constantly tend to queenly duties. They were a newly revived kingdom, so day after day new problems arose and while she’d been ecstatic about it all, that this was all she could have dreamed of for all those years, sometimes she allowed herself to feel tired, leaning into her carranam’s touch, and dozing off for days. This was one of those days. Rowan usually fussed over her endlessly on days like this, but today he made an exception and left when he felt the first ray of sunlight make itself known on Aelin’s hair. Of course he didn’t hold her for a few more moments, inhaling her. They hardly had any alone time, and Rowan found himself missing the days where they were painted in the glory of each other.
Some nights Rowan had Lorcan’s words echoing in his mind, even if we don’t kill Aelin of the Wildfire, time will, and held on to her as if she could fest him with her mortality. Terrasen be damned if he didn’t find a way.
Aelin yawns face pulled delicately into a scrunched up mew. Sometimes she wonders if Fleetfoot really was her daughter.
Suddenly a deep, sharp pang that ran down her throat and rang to her belly. The sour tenderness held her by her neck, and suddenly she can’t breathe she can’t breathe she can’t brea t h e. Bile rises to the back of her mouth and she twisting from the couch, her mouth clamped shut and her hand pressing against her lips, feeling the contents of her meal yesterday threaten to swallow the world whole. Her wandering hands grasp the walls for balance, knocking down lamps and Damaris from the hands of the knight. And finally she’s in the Royal Highness’s bedroom(spoiler alert; it’s her) and she trips over herself into the bathroom, she grabs a bucket and the acidic waste pours from her. It’s all happening too fast and the knowledge to pushing to get through to her brain when all she needs is the sudden stir in her belly to confirm her suspicions. Aelin Galathynius blanches. Fingers clutch the edges of the bucket like a vice, knuckles whitening.
What would Rowan think?
His mate had died pregnant with his child, and even though Aelin did want to have children, if Rowan was not ready for it, then. Then she could never be. The vile semi digested food rose from behind her throat again. Her fair hair stuck to her neck, sweaty and cold. Her nose burned. And all Aelin could think of was Rowan. It wasn’t fair for him. They weren’t safe, Gods, they weren’t. She should ask one of the healers for a tonic - perhaps. No. She had to tell Rowan. Her hand went to her stomach, cupping the little growing fetus.
Was it fair? To have a child where it’s father was not ready? Was it fair? To the child, or Rowan?
All this dilemma and choices and situations and her retching went to her head and she broke down. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Tears of stress and sadness and utter hormones took over and she was vomiting and crying. Please don’t let Rowan be affected. I’ll take on the responsibility. I’ll do anything. Don’t let it ruin him. And then there was a churning twist in her stomach and she bent over, heaving.
Rowan Whitethorn is a little perplexed. The palace is as quiet as a mouse. Which, to a hawk-transforming-fae-warrior-prince, is saying a lot. In his hands are bags of sweets and chocolate and a new blade for his carranam, because he figured she needed an out. Also, he had not been spending much time with her and he had hoped that it would make up for his absence.
But the palace is eerily quiet. And this sends him into an internal frenzy. Hands placed rigidly against his sides, he drops the bags on the marble flooring, and without shucking off his boots, he scowers the place, elongated ears twitching to find any sign of danger. And then he sees the drawing room.
And freezes in terror.
The heavy table has been shoved to the side, and broken plate lies on the carpeted floor with a book. Aelin. Blood running on worry and ice, he barely has time to think before his hands are throwing the doors of the drawing room open, and seeing the armored knight collapsed on the ground, Damaris clattered on the swirling marble. His heart skips a beat.
No. Not again. Not my Fireheart.
He collapses to the ground, hands reaching for the fallen sword, and looks around him, looking. Looking for anything, for anyone. Desperation drowns his senses. Check the rooms, Rowan, check the Mala-forsaken rooms. His legs are shaking, and his breathing is held so long he doesn’t know what is going on and he has no idea, the the first time in his life, what is happening or what to do or where to look and his immortal heart thunders against his ribs ferociously where if he doesn’t find Aelin in here he will burn down the palace to find his Queen.
And then he enters their bedroom and hears the sounds of Heaven pour into his ears. A whimper.
And then that relief vanishes as instantly as it made its presence known, and concern - a difference sort of concern floods his veins. He walks to the bathroom, and sees his carranam, his beautiful, torn carranam, all by herself by that bucket. When her watery eyes turn to him and her brandish uncertainty sweeps his emotions off, he drops to her side and wraps his arms around her. Rowan has no idea what to do or what is happening, but all he cares is that Aelin of the Wildfire is alive and in pain and he will be there for his Fireheart.
He holds her for a long time, until her breathing is stable and he can no longer feel his heart stuttering. And then, “Aelin?” And Aelin hiccups and looks into his eyes and with that one fleeting glance he knows. He knows, and she knows, and before she can curl into herself again, he rests his chin on the gloss of her head, and says, “I know.” Because they’re going to be a family soon, he turns her around so her back is pressed into his chest and he carefully cradles her stomach where their child is, and drops his head to the crook of her neck. And when she reaches for the bucket again, and he holds her hair back and fans her, he swears that he will protect them. To whatever end.
(CPASS) Counting Petals and Stabbing Skin | Chapter Three
Chapter Three’s TW/Warnings: None. New Characters: Mention of Connor. Beta: This chapter was not beta’d.I need a beta :( Message me if you’re interested and no previous experience is required. Words: 2.5K
A/N: What? A new chapter already? Yup, chapter 3 is already here :) This was originally only the first part of this chapter so that it’d be about 5K long. The second part (now part of Chapter 4) would have taken longer to write but I just wanted to get this part out. Are longer or shorter chapters better?
When she is suddenly appointed the guardian of her sister’s three children, Lexa -flustered and completely inexperienced- has to find somebody to rent the spare room in their house. Enter Clarke, a ramshackle, kind hearted pediatric resident who immediately becomes the heart of their small household. Sometimes family can be found in the most unexpected places.
ft. three sweet but exasperating children, stressed out mess Lexa and hopeless romantic Clarke.
Hey everyone! So this is the new multi chapter that I talked about. It’s going to switch perspectives between Rae and Finn a couple of times mostly because it was just easier to write it that way. It’s going to be around 11 parts.
AU: Rae’s boyfriend, Liam, moves in with Finn. Spoilers: Liam will act like an asshole. There will be a happy ending.
Also… would anyone mind private messaging me and just telling me if they use OK cupid in the UK? Just a little background info for a new fic I’m thinking of writing.
Thanks everyone for reading! You guys are awesome :D
(NOTE: This takes place before “Shirt Club” and thus the ‘Steven Bomb’ week of episodes. Cue the washing line!)
“A Visit to a Furniture Retailers” by Phil the Valiant
Adapted from the musings of Artemispanthar’s little sister
Somewhere in the United States of America…
The local IKEA store had many interesting customers over its lifetime, but none would compare to those who visited it one Sunday afternoon. On that day, the staff workers were interrupted in their tasks by a bizarre humming sound coming from round the back of the building, and a few minutes later, shouts coming from the sides. Little did they know that the Crystal Gems were about to pay them a visit…
“Who in their right minds would put TRASH DUMPSTERS in front of a Warp Pad?!” Pearl shouted in disgust. “Some humans have no respect at all!” “Relax, Pearl,” Amethyst chimed in, “we managed to move them out of our way!” “Yes, but not by using your gem powers, Amethyst! There’s filth all over the place! We took all morning coming here from Beach City, we don’t want to get into trouble by the human workers and come straight back without a bed for Steven!” Pearl strictly reprimanded her companion. “Why couldn’t we just build a bed for Steve? Saves us coming all the way here.” Amethyst asked. “Because the website on Steven’s portable device claimed that the bed had features his previous one didn’t, and compared to the other … Eye-Key-Yah stores on this continent, this one seems to have the cheapest beds. So, in a way, you recklessly breaking the bed with your wild antics at least had one positive outcome in all this.” Pearl replied, indignant as ever. “TELL EVERYONE HERE WHAT I DID, WHY DON’T YA?!” Amethyst yelled out in anger, her voice getting everyone’s attention in the car park. “Guys! Guys!” Steven mediated. “My bed was getting old anyway, and Lion would’ve broken it eventually. But you gotta keep the noise down, other people are here to get their own stuff, too.” “Steven’s right.” Garnet said. “Let’s just get the bed and go.”