distinguished guests

6

Maui + Haka
The Haka is a traditional war cry, dance, or challenge from the Māori people of New Zealand. It is a posture dance performed by a group, with vigorous movements and stamping of the feet with rhythmically shouted accompaniment. War haka were originally performed by warriors before a battle, proclaiming their strength and prowess in order to intimidate the opposition, but haka are also performed for for welcoming distinguished guests, or to acknowledge great achievements.

Just a little heads up for aspiring public speakers out there!

The gender neutral term for “ladies and gentleman” is “distinguished guests”. This has been around since at least the 60s, so no one is going to question your use of it.

Please, please use this along with “ladies and gentlemen” if you aren’t entirely sure of the gender of your audience.

Thank you!

anonymous asked:

Either Alfor or the Queen are like "Fuck the Space Police" and add Coran to the royal line registry. Coran only finds out in the present.

I like you. Ok, so, polyverse, natch.


“Oh my, oh my, oh my, it has been so long since we have had such distinguished guests!” the tiny Turimonqua maid was chirping, her rainbow lace wings flashing in the light as she fluttered from person to person to pin their access badges to the collars of their clothing. “To think, an entire royal entourage!”

“Your mistress’ hospitality has been very impressive,” Allura said politely as she bowed, prompting the rest of them to follow suit. “Thank you for putting us up on such short notice.”

“Oh, it is no problem at all. Anything, anything at all for a king and his daughter!”

Silence.

“I- I beg your pardon, run that by me again?” Coran asked hesitantly.”

The maid produced a tiny scroll made of glimmering light. “You are Coran, first of his name, Second Father to Allura, Fourth of the Allura Title, correct?”

“I- well, yes, but I was unaware that-”

“Then it is settled! Come, come, your rooms are this way!”

“A king?!” Lance asked, gaping, as Coran paced back and forth in the common area that joined their rooms. 

“Believe me, this is just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” he protested. “I mean… they’d always said they would, but-”

“Said they would what?” Shiro prodded.

“Well, it was always a given that if anything were to happen to their majesties before Allura came of age, I would care for her,” Coran said, and Allura took hold of his hand and squeezed. “But it was always going to have to be behind the scenes as her retainer. The nobility never would have accepted me stepping up to the throne.”

“Why not?” Pidge asked. “You were practically their second in command. Who better?”

Coran scratched the back of his neck, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Mm…”

Allura squeezed tighter. “I’m right behind you, Aipa.”

He sighed. “The fact of the matter is, Altea had a very deep split along class lines. Alfor and Illyere worked very hard to do better by the lower classes, but the nobility fought it tooth and nail. It was the scandal of scandals when it came out that the three of us had formed a relationship. Whispers ran from them slumming it to me attempting a coup from the bedroom.”

Hunk made a very unamused growl, pounding fist to palm. “Too bad we couldn’t have been around then to knock a few heads straight.”

“Hell yes,” Lance agreed, grin vicious,  and there were some grim agreeing nods.

That finally seemed to take the worst of the tension out of the room when Coran laughed. “Thank you. And to be honest, your predecessors were much the same way about it. But… there you have it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe they actually did it, though.”

“Well, you know how Mama loved to thumb her nose at her fellow bluebloods. There’s probably video recording somewhere of her and Papa and Archivist Michika laughing as they filed it to record.”

“Hey, I bet we could find it,” Pidge said with a wicked grin. “What do you think the search code would be?”

“Ten to one it was a present…. Aipa’s birthday.”

Coran groaned. “They would.”

“Birthday hunt for King Coran!”

“Don’t you dare start calling me that, I swear on-”

So This Is Love [4]

Cinderella!AU

Summary: Y/N is heavily mistreated in her household. Prince Peter has to find a bride to become the queen of the kingdom.

AN: iconic ball scene coming ahead and a big big thank you to @trashholland for making me this amazing moodboard!!! thank u bila <3

Peter Parker x Reader

Previous

// Masterlist //


Originally posted by parkrpeters

Prince Peter stood beside his uncle and aunt as dignitaries were being announced. Positioned high above in a balcony, King Benjamin gave a small wave of his hand at each one that bowed in his direction.

“Have you found anyone to your liking, darling?” Queen May asked her beloved nephew.

“No.” Peter gave a short answer.

“Just try sweetheart.” Peter sighed. May wanted Peter to experience true love but she had to think of their family’s greater duty to the people.

King Ben looked over at the exchange and beckoned Peter over. The young prince moved closer to his uncle.

“I know who you’re looking for.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The prince tried to lie.

Keep reading

4

…I only know them from afar.

akashilio

Special guest: askthemagictrio!
From now on- and from time to time, I'll be doing special replies featuring other ask blogs! 
Sometimes it'll be their muses as pottertalia students, sometimes there will be more- either way, it'll be nice to see different art styles for a change! 6 w <)/ I'll be tagging it as "distinguished guests".
Mina's plot is different from Hogwarts crossover, and she has different characters too- plus ships, and all the beautiful replies. I should learn from her to not being lazy-
Have you seen her blog already? 6 w <)bbb If you haven't, go check it out! <3
Dangerous Woman-Part 8

A/N: Buckle up fam! I normally do a lot of research for my stories but this was ridiculous!

Warnings: Fluff/Badass/Swearing/Blood/Wound

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of Tony Stark to become the head lawyer for the Avengers. You never expected your life to change but fate has a funny way of turning everything upside down. 

Bucky x Reader 

Part 7 / Masterlist

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck

Keep reading

“Prey”

“Rhys is drinking?” Jack asks, eyeing the amber liquid in Rhys’ large glass. The omega only shrugged, swirling the sparkling liquid around in the crystal goblet.

“Yeah, but not alcohol….just apple cider.” Rhys mumbles, taking a deep gulp and licking the little amber droplets off his lips. “Dad doesn’t let me drink yet.”

“Drinking age in America is 21.” Jack comments idly, earning himself a sour look from the young omega.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks so hard.” Rhys crosses his arms, bobbing lightly on his feet as his eyes trail over the walls and ceiling of the little hallway. Like the rest of the lodge, the walls are paneled in sleek, lacquered wood, dotted with the occasional painted pastoral hanging in a bronze framed stylized with long twigs and leaves. The whole building looks far too quaint to be hosting a gathering of mob bosses, even if the intention is something as comparatively innocent as an omega cotillion.

This idea kind of blossomed from Rhys’ dad throwing him a kind of weird cotillion/debutante ball where he is presented to various alpha suitors and how Rhys is not down with that at all. Then it turned into pseudo-angst with Rhys getting drugged by one of these alphas and Jack being conflicted about his role as Rhys’ bodyguard so….enjoy!

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Dorwinion Dessert - Thranduil x Reader

This is a Thranduil x Reader one-shot inspired by a dirty Thranduil confession from the thranduilconfessions.tumblr blog. 

@thranduilconfessions

This is just for fun, pure and shameless smut, NSFW, PWP, Thrandy being really naughty and horny …. you know the King of Smirkwood. So here is your „Dorwinion Dessert“, served steamy and hot, bon appétit :)!

The following confession inspired me to write this fanfic:
„I want to be one of Thranduil’s servant girls, and one day, when he’s feeling exceptionally horny, he’ll take me to his wine cellar and fuck me senseless against the barrels, whispering „You’re mine now…“.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thranduil (unfortunately), nor any of the other characters from Tolkien’s Middle-earth. I do not make any money with this, this is purely for entertainment.

You can find this now also on AO3. If you happen to stop by and leave me kudos that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you all :)!

Second Servings of Dorwinion Dessert are now also ready, served and uploaded. It is the follow-up to this if you want to read more about dirty Thranduil ;).

                                        Dorwinion Dessert

It was well past midnight and your duty should have ended a long time ago when you found yourself still carrying trays and putting away goblets from the lavish feast Thranduil had held tonight. You were surprised his wine cellar still held so many more barrels after all that had been consumed by him and his distinguished guests. It was an incessant stream of servants making sure that there was a constant flow of delicious food and sweet Dorwinion wine so Thranduil’s banquet would live up to its usual style.
You were of course not allowed to participate in any of these festivities, after all you were just a servant, but although you sometimes envied these illustrious guests, you did not really wish to partake. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but you had only eyes for the king. You had thrown Thranduil probably more covert looks than what was considered appropriate. But he never seemed to notice your presence anyway, so after a while you barely made an effort to disguise your lingering looks.

Finally the singing and chatting upstairs had died away and as everything fell silent you busied yourself with the last remnants of the banquet before retiring to your well earned sleep. As you cleared the tables you made sure to wipe carefully around the motionless bodies of the guards who have had seemingly as much to drink as all the guests of the banquet together when suddenly you heard determined footsteps approaching. You sighed and without looking up from your work you said: „Don’t tell me you are coming for more things to take upstairs. Hasn’t the king had enough?“

„No, apparently he hasn’t.“ You would recognize this voice among a hundred others. Your face flushed bright red in absolute mortification as you turned around and found Thranduil himself staring at you. His piercing gaze sent shivers down your spine and caused you to break into an embarrassed stutter.
„My Lord, I am so sorry! I … I didn’t know it was you. Please … please forgive me!“ You clung to the table behind you awaiting the scorning that you were sure was to ensue.

He took in the delicate situation which presented itself before his eyes and an amused smile passed his face: „I am aware of that.“ As he descended the last steps and strode towards you, his exquisite robe trailed behind him like a rippling sea of burgundy. He put his goblet on the table right beside you and grazed your cheek with the back of his hand, his voice soft like velvet: „Say, do you think of me as insatiable?“
„No, my lord! I would never dare to!“ you objected quickly.
„But what do you think of me then? Tell me, for I am curious.“ His fingers dragging down your neck with his thumb resting at your throat made you all of a sudden overly conscious of your hammering heartbeat.
„I … well.“ You were briefly at a loss for words. „I … I only think of you as my lord and I strive to please you in any way I can.“ The colour drained from your face as you realized what you just offered him. A flicker of lust dancing across his face was answer enough.
„I appreciate your willingness to serve me as your king.“ He leaned closer and whispered in your ear: „The look in your eyes says more than all the words you may hide from me. I can see your desire in them.“ His hands trailed along the seam of your dress slowly gliding down your back as he pressed you against the edge of the table with his body. „I saw you all evening staring at me, thinking that I wouldn’t notice. Your hands trembling every time I asked you to refill my goblet. Your face blushing when I would call your name.“
„But my lord Thranduil, I didn’t … I was only trying to …“. Your body was flaring hot under his touch, the brittle remnants of your composure like a thin veil on the verge of being ripped apart by his hands.
„Don’t deny it if you do not wish to anger me.“ His breath was hot against your neck, strands of his silver blonde hair tingling on your chest.
“I would never…,” you breathed against his shoulder, your fingernails digging into the wooden surface beneath them.
“You would never what?” He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back forcing you to meet his gaze. “Speak!” His lips were unbearably close to yours, the smell of wine lingering heavy on them.
„I … I do not wish to anger you.“ Your mouth was dry and heat was building up inside you, rippling flames that were threatening to consume you from within.
„But what do you want? Tell me! Your king commands it!“ His tone now harsh and demanding, he was seething desire beneath the scattered fragments of his usual composed self.
You were barely able to breathe and your tenuous resistance was melting away like wax beneath the heat of his feverish gaze.
„I am waiting.“ A crease appeared on his forehead as he tightened the grip on your hair, his other hand finding the dip of your waist and pressing you harder into him with a possessive force that should have scared you.
Only it didn’t.
It was what attracted you to him in the first place: he was commanding and intimidating. Unpredictably dangerous and at times with a barely veiled malice he stirred up a delicious mixture of fear and lust inside you. 

„You…,“ you finally gave in, „… you are what I want.“ There; you said it. Now there was no way back.
The corners of his mouth curled into a sly smile: „Indeed this is just what I thought. Naughty. Little. Girl.“ He emphasized each of his last words with a tight squeeze of his hand around your waist.
„But I must warn you. If you give yourself to me, I will have all of you. Is that clear?“
You nodded silently, unable to utter any more words.

He cast away the last of his self-restraint and kissed you hard, his lips crashing against yours, demanding and hungry. The force of his onslaught almost took your breath away, his tongue eagerly parting your lips and exploring the welcoming warmth of your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, wanting more and giving more and then you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, trying to eliminate every inch of space that was still separating you from him. His slender hands wandered all over you, touching and exploring, taking in every curve and every hollow of your body.
„Oh my lord…,“ you moaned as you felt his desire pressing urgently through his clothes against your own core. He carelessly dropped his velvet robe to the floor, unbuttoning his brocade tunic with impatient fingers when he glanced at the passed out guards on the other side of the table. He interrupted his motions causing you to throw him a confused look.
„We would not want to wake them now, would we?“ He looked at you with a mischievous smile, lifted you up with your legs dangling around his waist and carried you to the opposite wall where there was a low-lying shelf in front of a long row of barrels. He sat you on the empty shelf and reached under your dress only to realize that you were not wearing anything beneath it.
„You are an audacious one, aren’t you?“ He groaned as he slid his fingers past your dripping wetness, his own arousal even more intensified as he felt how much you desired him. He brought his finger to his mouth, sucking on it slowly. „You taste delicious, much better than any of the food I have had tonight.“ Your face flushed bright red in embarrassment, but you wanted him so much, that you didn’t care anymore about feeling ashamed of your own desires.
„My lord…,“ you moaned, „… then let me be your dessert.“ Your own boldness surprised you, but  the spark in Thranduil’s eyes told you that it only spurred his own desire.
„I will take then what you offer to me so generously.“

With his own trousers barely past his knees he bunched your dress around your thighs and pressed you against the wooden barrels behind you. He threw your legs around his waist and then you felt him hot and rigid at your entrance. His eyes were dark with lust and he grabbed your chin possessively, breathing on your face: „This is it, the moment of no return. You are mine now!“ And then he entered you, slamming his full length inside you, making you gasp out at the sheer force of his fulfillment. He groaned as he touched you all the way inside, for a moment stopping all motions to relish in the pure delight of being united with your body. And then his lips found yours and he claimed your mouth like a king claiming his possession, not tentative or gentle, but forceful and demanding. He left you out of breath, gasping for air as his mouth wandered lower down your neck, leaving crushing kisses on your chest, his fingers skillfully pulling apart the delicate drawstring of your tunic and exposing one of your breasts to his eager mouth. Every flick of his tongue, every passionate bite of his mouth sent you higher into dizzying pleasure, moaning for more. „Oh, my lord…,“ you gasped, „yes … yes … I’m yours!“

And then he started moving again inside you, slow and controlled strokes at first, your insides welcoming him thick and plentiful, his own lust fueled by your burning desire. He grabbed your hands by your wrists with one hand and roughly pinned them over your head while he slid the other one under your bottom to take you even harder. Over and over, again and again he sunk his hardness inside you.
„Yes, you are mine!“ he rasped, his voice hoarse, „this luscious little body of yours, it’s all mine.“ His thrusts became deeper, stronger, harder still. Pain and pleasure mingled inside you as you were pinched in between the king’s hardness and the rough wooden barrels behind you. You felt so deliciously helpless that you clung on to him as for dear life, your legs tight around his waist. He drew in a deep breath and his eyes were heavy with desire: „You are a wild one. It seems you need to be taken hard.“
„Yes, please my lord…,“ you muttered against the hollow of his neck as you felt ecstatic pleasure spread from your core and take hold of your entire body, blinding and bright. Hard and violent were his thrusts, filling all your inside with delicious friction, your walls tightening around his length as you felt your climax approaching. He released your wrists and covered your mouth with his hand muffling your cries of unadulterated pleasure.
„Come for me now, girl. Come for your king!“ You arched your body against his, all the world around you fading away into blackness as you drowned in a starlit sea of endless bliss. Every fibre of your being was nothing but heavenly delight and pure pleasure at the mercy of your king.

Thranduil was breathing heavily as he slammed faster into you, his composure fading altogether as his own peak approached on him rapidly while you were floating in the ocean of your own delight, your walls still tightening around his hardness. He gripped you hard around your waist, pumping into you with deep and relentless strokes, taking you to the very edge of what was bearable. His whole body tightened as he groaned into your hair and with one final thrust he finally found his release, pulsating inside you and filling you with his seed, a wave of heat washing over you as you felt its force touch your most intimate spot.
„Oh yes, my king….,“ you gasped out of breath still from his violent onslaught as he collapsed onto you and you allowed your hands to glide tenderly through his silken hair. His head was resting on your shoulder, his breath ragged and his heartbeat racing against your own. A deep satisfaction took hold of you, warmth and affection filling your heart.

He was still inside you when you both slowly regained your senses and he finally looked at you, his expression now softer and a glow of fondness inside his eyes that made your heart flutter.
He smiled openly at you when he said: „This was by far the best dessert I have ever had.“ You blushed, feeling flattered by his words and smiled back at him. After planting a tender kiss on your mouth he added: „And I intend to request a second serving. Soon.“
„Yes my lord, of course,“ you replied quickly.

As he retreated from you he made sure to restore your tunic to its original tidy state, finishing up the drawstring with a neat bow. You couldn’t help but admire the diligence he devoted to such a small detail, so very much unlike his usual commanding manner. He then took equally great care in rearranging his own clothes until he was altogether back to his former regal appearance.
„Let me help you.“ With one swift motion he lifted you down from the shelf and before releasing you from his hold he looked down on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes:
„I am expecting you tomorrow evening in my chambers at nine. And don’t be late, we have a long night ahead of us.“
„As you wish my lord Thranduil.“ You threw him a coquettish glance. „I promise your dessert will be sweet and served just on time.“

So indeed, the king was insatiable after all.

floranocturna, January 2017

flickr

Hi Geisa-kai! 

Have you seen this photo from Flickr? Mamesome’s makeup and hair is so unusual! What do you think it could mea, if anything?

Hello! Her hairstyle and makeup is normal for Gion Kobu’s geiko during the Miyako Odori season (so, basically during whole month of April). If a geiko dances in the So Odori part of the performance, she styles her hair in chu shimada hairstyle (seen here on Mamesome). But maiko do the same thing! The hairstyle is not changed for the whole day, and when maiko and geiko head to evening parties in tea houses, they use this makeup trick to distinguish them. So, guests are able to differ geiko from maiko by their kimono and obi, but also by the makeup style (and most of the geiko look very young without usual wigs, so this custom is useful!). Geiko wipe off their makeup from the faces but leave their necks painted. Maiko leave the whole makeup on their faces.

PDX to JFK chapter 2

this one’s twice as long!! still full of cliches! i still can’t figure out why you all like it so much but hey! as long as you want it, i’ll post it!! thanks for reading <3 enjoy

Feyre Archeron is pretty sure there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed when it comes to conduct with the authors whose books she edits. But when you take what should have been a normal flight to Paris and add a tuna sandwich, a red pen, and a smirking stranger, lines can get a little blurry.

or

the one where feyre accidentally trash talks a novel to its author and then they kinda fall in love

read it on ao3

 chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Keep reading

So a few people wanted an Auguste Survives AU so here’s a little snippet an ever growing ficlet I might continue it if you guys like it. (sorry for the grammar and what not I wrote this real quick before work.)

AO3 link

Thanks to @myanchorandyourcompass @theorathanatos and all you amazing nerds who left “PLEASE WRITE THIS” in my tags, for getting me inspired to get this actually written down . It’s not great but hey here goes nothing

__________________

The golden prince lets out a silent plea as he falls.

Keep him safe

He doesn’t scream in pain as the sharp-swift blade cuts through him. Instead he looks upward. Between him and the heavens is the face of the man who killed him. Between him and the heavens is the man he should hate. It takes another life time to fall and in that time all he can think of is that Laurent will be alone now. Sweet, shy bookish and pure little Laurent was going to be alone now. This war wasn’t worth it if it left Laurent alone like this.

Please keep him safe.

He’s gone before he hits the ground, a smile on his lips.

And the golden prince sleeps.

—————————

The border palace is nowhere near complete, but spirits are high, and already people remark at the beauty of it, a harmonious mix of the Akielon and Veretian styles.  Miles south it seemed like half the kingdom was gathering at the gates of Ios. They were a mix of Akielons and Veretians, and travelers from Patras and Vask. Among them is a group of people from beyond Ellosean sea, traveling like distinguished guests among the crowd. They draw looks from the those around them as they make port and a messenger is sent out at once to the palace.

At the head is a woman dressed in a robe like the sea at midnight with a collar of feathers like a corset sitting weightless on her chest.

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A Royal Encounter BuckyxReader

Royal AU set in the 40s. After WWII and the signing of the Sokovia Accords, the reader’s kingdom has a ball to celebrate. Instantly falling for the American Sergeant. 

Words: 1511

so much fluff

Originally posted by dolorioushaze

Tonight was the perfect night for a celebration, a small European country was celebrating the end of World War 2 and the signing of the Sokovia Accords. Distinguished guests from around the globe were coming to gather at the large Palace to celebrate. The ballroom was filled luxurious ball gowns and well-dressed men, and the music was up beat to match the occasion.


The princess stood by her parent’s Thrones as she looked down at the guests dancing and drinking, the joy on their faces brought a smile to her red painted lips. “Y/N are you coming to dance?” her best friend Princess Wanda of Sokovia asked her as she rushed to her side. The Princess looked at her and shrugged.


“I’m enjoying everyone else dance,” she smiled, folding her white gloved hands. Wanda rolled her eyes and turned to watch the crowd with her. They looked over at the entrance and saw the American general walk in with fellow soldiers. One instantly caught the Princess’ eye, he was breathtaking, his slicked back black hair and a black suit made him stand out to her.

Keep reading

salntkid  asked:

i follow yesterdays print and how old time folks were kind of funny and weird idk now I'm imagining Dunwall memes via the paper

someone else already came up with the Dishonored version of “old man yells at cloud” which is Daud pointing at the Outsider, “old man yells at whale”

other newspaper items include:

  • humorous sightings of the Outsider (usually these turn out to be a scarecrow in an overcoat, or children playing with dolls, or someone standing in front of a lantern projector shining out of a building)
  • reader-submitted increasingly unlikely feats performed by Royal Protector Corvo, and lately, Empress Emily
  • “is Alexi Mayhew really dead???” conspiracy theories
  • presentation of an invention of disputed origin - “Jindosh, or Sokolov” - e.g. sliced bread, 
  • list of silvergraph studios that Mindy Blanchard has been banned from this week for asking for selfies on credit (yes she lives in Dunwall now. None of the silvergraph studios in Serkonos will do business with her anymore)
  • “Truth or Tale” - regarding Duke Luca’s latest party. Did he really invite a dozen witches and forty distinguished guests, only to lock them in and force them to reverse their roles at gun point?
  • top 10 rat recipes - brought to you from the people who survived them!
  • comic of two aristocrats arguing over the price of whale oil, while in the background weepers discover fire, the wheel, and written language of their own accord
  • on weekends there’s a historical silvergraph* of Empress Jessamine greeting and feeding the swans in the Royal Gardens
Pride and Prejudice and Wrestling

Pride and Prejudice and Wrestling – Part 1

Characters: Seth Rollins x Reader, Sasha Banks, Bayley

Summary: When a superstar Hollywood actress (The Reader), interacts with WWE Superstar Seth Rollins at Monday Night Raw, sparks fly. Can Rollins overcome his pride and convince the reader to take a chance on him when she’s still recovering from a nasty scandal caused by her cheating fiancé?

Warnings: Lots of flirting, angsty longing and maybe some bad words.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a wrestler, in possession of good talent, must be in want of a Championship.

Chapter 1: First Impressions

He was just as egotistical as he seemed on tv.

It was impossible not to think that when he stood there lording it over all the other superstars backstage at the arena as if he owned the place. Seth Freakin’ Rollins. Even the name screamed that he was full of himself. Six foot one inches and 217 pounds of pure ego. Didn’t Ambrose call him that once? It made sense. Over confidence my name is Seth. It seemed to ooze from every pore of him. It was just too bad that in addition to the ego, he was also insanely hot.

Keep reading

Sherlock Vday challenge Day 11

Sherlock x reader

Note: I know, I know, I’m running late once again, but to my defense, I’ve been sick as hell the whole weekend plus we’re in the end of our term (I believe that’s how we call it in English???) in school and I had hundreds of exams and tests for the past two weeks so yeah… Any way, the prompt was “This is not what it looks like, I swear.” written for @prettyxlittlexwriter​‘s sherlock vday challenge, thanks once again for beta-reading and finding a proper ending to it, you once again saved my life dear :)

Enjoy!


Need you for a case.

I’m picking you up in ten

minutes.

Get dressed.

-SH

“For the love of- What was he up to this time?!” I grumbled.

                                                                                         Can’t you ask John?

Not really.

                                                                                                                         …

Pretty please

                                                                                         Why do you need me

                                                                                                            this time?

I’ll tell you in the cab.

Make sure to be dressed properly,

we’re going to a fancy place.


I sighed. That man could get me to do everything he wanted…

——————————~☆☆☆~——————————–

“We are formally invited to a reception for Valentine’s day evening and it will be our sole chance to catch the butter knife killer.” Explained Sherlock, as I climbed in the cab

“The butter knife killer? You’re starting to sound like John!”

The man gave me an unamused look.

“The fact is, the killer will be at the reception and I need your help, if I was to go alone, people would notice.”

“Why don’t you go with John?”

“He’s with Mary.”

“Why didn’t you asked Molly then? She’s dying for a date with you!” I pouted, not at all happy to be forced to spend my Valentine’s day with him.

“She’s got a boyfriend Y/N, they’re even fiancés and she’s surely spending her Valentine’s day evening with him.”

“Well what if I wanted to spend mine with my boyfriend?” I tried.

“You’ve got a boyfriend?!” exclaimed the man, turning to me.

I could have sworn jealousy flashed in his stormy eyes for an instant.

“Sadly, no.” I grimaced, “But it was worth a try.”

He shook his head once again and turned back to the streets, eyes scanning every passer-by as the cab would go pass them.

“Anyway it’s not like if you have any choice left now.” He mumbled.

——————————~☆☆☆~——————————–

A few minutes later, we were both standing in the entrance of a room full of rather distinguished guests.

“How did you even got invited for this?” I asked the detective, as he offered me an arm.

“Dear Y/N, after all these years we have known each other, I’m sure you could deduce it.” He smirked, leading me through the crowd.

“Come on Holmes, we don’t have time to lose if we want to catch the killer, just tell me.”

“It wouldn’t be much fun if I was to you know…” he stopped and showed me a man entering the room. “Look who’s there.”

It was a well-dressed man, small and skinny, moving with a certain grace and ease through the guests, chit chatting with some of them, going from a small group to another one.

“It’s William Johnson, the host. His family has always been one of the richest and most powerful in the country for some obscure reasons. You think it’s him?”

Sherlock nodded softly, his eyes scanning him, deducing every tiny bit of information he could get from him.

“I’ve known him for years Holmes, he’s harmless.”

“I wouldn’t be as sure of myself if I were you. Anyway that’s why we’re here.”

He lead me through the crowd, directly to where our host came from. He stopped and pulled me in a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of my head. I clenched my teeth, resisting the mighty need to punch him right where it would hurt the most.

“You know your way around the mansion?” he whispered in my ear.

“Oh that’s why you needed me instead of anyone else.”

“You know the way, yes or no?” he insisted. “It’s our only chance to find the right evidences to stop him.” He released me from his embrace and took me by my shoulders, “Y/N, please. For me.”

“You win.” I sighed. “Follow me.”

——————————~☆☆☆~——————————–

“How long have you known him?” inquired Sherlock, looking at an old picture of William and me.

I looked at him, the blue light passing through the closed curtains of the room giving a mystical taste to his feature as we searched through our host’s papers.

“As long as I remember. Our parents have always been close friends. We even dated a few years ago but we lost track of the other one after uni… I can’t believe he would be our killer, this is so… unlike Bill.”

“Are you sure?” The tall man handed me a ripped piece of cloth. “The rip fits perfectly with the one find on the last victim.”

“Not as sure as I’d like to be…” I sighed. “If you’ve got all you needed we’d better go before some passer-by hear us.”

Putting everything back to its rightful place, we left the room for the vast and empty hallways. We had almost reached the rest of the guests, the babbling of the crowd faintly audible in the background, when two voices resonated through the air. We rushed to the closest door, trying to open it, but failing since it was locked. I gave a panicked looked to my companion and he pinned me against the wall, his lips crashing onto mines in a passionate kiss. I passed an arm around his neck as we pulled apart, panting, his gorgeous blue eyes fixed in mines as we kissed a second time, hoping the two intruders would change to course quickly.

“Y/N?!”

Sherlock and I pulled away as I started to panic.

“THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE DAD I SWEAR!” I screamed in panic, recognizing my parents, who, of course, had to be invited by William.

“No, no I guess it surely isn’t what it looks like…” said my father.

“James, don’t be harsh on her, it was about time she found herself some real man.” said my mother, trying very hard not to laugh.

My father looked at us for a instant, deciphering how he should react. He sighed and shook his head, extending an arm to my mother.

“Make sure to bring him next time you pass by love.” she told me, before they left.

I turned to Sherlock, clenching my fists.

“I am never going to hear the end of it. You owe me one Holmes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this up to you. It is Valentine’s day after all.” smiled the detective, leaning to kiss me once again.

May the Grades Be Ever in Your Favor

Kyoya:  Hello distinguished guests, As exam week begins, we would like to encourage you in our own special way.  Long-time guests will recall our previous motivational memes, and this semester we are running a “Hey Girl” line of studying encouragement.  Please stop by the Host Club Gift Shop on your way out to order your own motivational meme posters.  Thank you, and have a pleasant day.