Mai

♡ mai ♡ #1 buff woman lover ♡ 20s ♡

[asian-hero]

♡ mai ♡ she/her ♡ 20s ♡

welcome to my blog, i hope you enjoy your stay! currently writing for bnha and genshin! feel free to submit any ideas/requests you have and i’ll try and get to them <3

i also post my works on ao3 if that’s more your style!

come yell at me about your obsessions and i’ll do the same (´ ε ` )♡

☞ masterlist (under construction!)

☞ welcome home; i’m home (alhaitham/reader fluff/angst) new!

[opheliasblight]

Hidden Truths and Masked Desires

Cullen Rutherford/Female!Warden (Amell)

Though it had been ten years since Cullen had last seen the Hero of Ferelden, his traitorous heart never let him forget the pain and guilt that came with loving her. While attempting to atone for his past sins, of which he is sure he'll never fully absolve himself from, he's met with a familiar face in the depths of the Orlesian court. Though, he's unsure if seeing Eliana Amell here, of all places, is a blessing in disguise, or a disaster waiting to happen.

a/n: you can take this pairing out of my cold, dead hands :)

w/c: 3.5k

“Care to dance, Commander?”

Cullen Rutherford never thought that he would hear that voice again. The one that haunted his every move, that seemed to mock him no matter what he did. Yet, here he was, in his–what he thought to be ridiculous–Inquisition-mandated formal attire, looking almost as out of place as he felt, surrounded by a dozen or so Orlesians who thought of him as an exotic exhibition in and of himself. And just to his right, her smile hidden behind a gloved hand, was the woman he thought he'd never see again.

Eliana Amell.

She was as beautiful as the day he'd last seen her all those years ago in that miserable Circle. She looked older, her black hair, which reminded him of an endless night sky, was pulled up and away from her face in a soft-looking bun, save for a few framing pieces; her silverite colored grey eyes peered into his golden ones; as if the moon were looking at the sun during an eclipse. Peeking beneath her masquerade mask was the faintest sliver of a scar, stopping just before her chin. It must’ve happened long ago, the color now tinged pink, with a slight silvery sheen to it. It was one he hadn't seen before.

Just before Cullen could respond, or, more likely, stumble over his words, an Orlesian woman beside her interrupted, her voice just as shrill and condescending as he imagined it, “Good luck with that, Lady Amell, it seems as though the good Commander's feet are rooted to this spot.”

“It's Warden-Commander, my good Lady,” Eliana replied, her eyes ever leaving Cullen's, “And, forgive me, but I do believe that the Commander can answer for himself.”

Even someone as inadequately learned in the fine art of politics as Cullen knew that Eliana had committed a serious crime in the world of etiquette, not only correcting the woman but completely ignoring her. Shamed as he was to admit it, it only stood to further endear her to him.

“I apologize, Warden-Commander Amell,” He started, a rueful smile on his lips, “But I am afraid I must decline. I am to stay here, should the Inquisitor need me,”

Though Eliana kept her face neutral, Cullen could tell she was leveling a rather unamused look at him, and it took all of his resolve not to backtrack completely. Had this happened all those years ago, when he was simply Cullen Rutherford, a man whose hands were clean of any blood, and she simply Eliana Amell, a woman who'd tease him for his ineptitude, then perhaps he would have said yes. Perhaps he wouldn't have balked at the idea of embarrassing himself in front of a crowd of Orlesian nobles, not if it meant getting to hold her close for just a few moments longer. 

However, as it stood, Cullen was a man who had committed too much sin, and Eliana was a woman who had looked an Archdemon in the face and laughed. She was too bright, too perfect, to be seen with a man as tarnished as him.

Just as Eliana opened her mouth to speak, another man jumped in, his over-the-top attire forcing Cullen to bite his tongue. “If the Commander is unavailable, I would be more than happy to escort you to the ballroom floor, Warden-Commander Amell.”

Her gaze flitted over to Cullen one last time, her eyes raking over his form once more, before turning her full attention to the new man in front of her. “I would be honored, my Lord.” Taking the man's outstretched arm, she glanced back at Cullen once more, “Perhaps we will talk later, Commander.”

With that, she was whisked away to the dance floor, Cullen begrudgingly watching from the sidelines as the Orlesian Lord spun her across the space, his hands far too low for Cullen's liking. 

Deep down, Cullen knew that it was stupid of him to be so jealous. He was the one who rejected Eliana, after all; but he couldn't help the tightness in his chest, nor could he stop the slight flush of irritation from traveling up to his face as he watched her laugh at something the lord had said, her head tilting back ever so slightly, her hair tickling her ears as she moved. 

Cullen tried to convince himself that it was for the best. What else was he to do? It had been nearly ten years since he'd last seen the Hero of Ferelden, and they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms.

“No,” the traitorous voice whispered in his head, venom seeping through every word, “Not only did you make a fool of yourself while captured, but you told her that everyone she knew and loved in that tower should die. That mages were to not be trusted. What if it had been her trapped in there with Ulder? What would you have done then, you templar mutt?”

Crossing his arms across his chest, Cullen dug his fingernails into his biceps in an attempt to ground himself. The little voice in the back of his head would never let him forget what he had done, all the damage he had caused in the aftermath. Even if he had done his best to atone for his past mistakes, nothing would ever suffice for him to even breathe the same air as the Hero, let alone dance with her. To even wish for a connection with her.

No matter how desperately his traitorous heart wanted to.

So, Cullen was content enough to simply watch as Eliana spun around the ballroom floor, moving from lord to lady, engaging in conversations that seemed to leave her audience in awe and admiration. An impressive feat, especially for a Ferelden mage. Every so often, he swore that he caught her staring back at him, as if her eyes were as dutiful as he was on her figure. Every time he caught her eye, however, she would look away, being pulled in another direction.

"Commander," An Antivan accent called out; Josephine, her hands smoothing down the wrinkles on her own uniform, "The Inquisitor seems to have landed herself into some, diplomatic trouble.”

At her cryptic words, Cullen allowed his eyes to wander away from Eliana, only to find the Inquisitor herself being spun around the ballroom with the Grand Duchess Florianne, both of them locked into some serious discussion. The sight of the two seemed to send Josephine into a panic, with her muttering something about never preparing dance lessons for Lavellan and whether or not the Dalish had their own dance traditions. In all honesty, Cullen was more worried about the bigger, less subtle, Quinari mercenary slowly heading towards the door to the Vestibule, an empty champagne glass already in one of his hands and an exasperated look in his eye.

Right then, to work.

 

Despite the—what Josephine would call—resounding success of not only keeping Empress Celene alive but forcing her and Gaspard to work together for a "better" Orlais, Cullen finds himself never wanting to step foot in one of these events ever again. If all the pomp and circumstance weren't enough to give the man a headache, then the whole politics of Florianne's betrayal and alliance with Corypheus certainly had. 

Though he was sure that once this whole political matter was resolved, they would be able to leave the party, Cullen unfortunately found himself standing in his corner once more, an even greater flock of Orlesian nobles surrounding him, going on and on about how wonderful it must be to work with the Inquisitor, how she should be so lucky as to have someone like him in her inner circle.

A point which he needed to refute several times.

Just as Cullen is about to resign himself to his fate, a familiar mask passes by him in the crowd, accompanied by a woman in a red and black ballgown, her black hair also held up in a bun, but her face fully revealed; familiar, yet he can't seem to place where he knows her from.

"Lady Morrigan," A voice beside him helpfully mentions, though it seems less than thrilled about the guest.

Looking to his side, he finds Leliana leaned up against the wall, her eyes tracking Eliana and Morrigan's every move. Cullen lets out a sigh of relief, before tensing up once more at the realization of being caught.

"I would've thought you'd have caught up with her," He replies, hoping to circumvent the rather embarrassing conversation he knew was about to arrive.

A humorless laugh leaves the red-headed woman, as if the mere thought of interacting with Morrigan was implausible, "We may have been companions once, but that doesn't mean I would voluntarily seek out her company."

"And El—Warden Commander Amell?" He chastises himself for his slip-up before turning to face the woman beside him. 

At the Hero’s name, she pauses, a small smile gracing her lips as she becomes lost in thought, before she stamps it down. "I've already spoken with Eliana," She starts, her eyes now settling on Cullen, as if to gauge his expression, "I've requested that she comes back with us to Skyhold."

"You've what?" He asks, almost as if praying that his ears were deceiving him.

Leliana merely shrugged at his shock, her arms now behind her back, "Josephine and Inquisitor Lavellan have already agreed, we could use all of the support from Ferelden we can get," Guestering over to Eliana, she smiled once more, "And who better to win over the kingdom than their Hero?"

At his silence, she pushed herself off of the wall, heading towards the two women, but not before giving the Commander one last look. 

"This may come as a surprise, but I do care for you, Cullen," She starts, her eyes never leaving his, "And above that, I care for Eliana, more than anyone else in this world. So, who are you doing a favor by avoiding her when she so clearly wishes to speak with you?"

With that, Leliana moves towards her old companions, her head tilting forward as she whispers something in Eliana’s ear, causing the other woman to stiffen slightly. Before Eliana can even retort, the spymaster steals the arm of Morrigan, rolling her eyes at some remark from the other mage, leaving Eliana alone. Steeling himself, Cullen gives a curt bow to the nobles around him before heading toward the woman who haunted his every waking dream.

She noticed him before he even had the chance to formulate a greeting, “Ah, Commander Rutherford. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Feeling the urge to run away like he'd done all those years ago, he holds his hands behind his back, gripping his wrist tightly as if to ground himself. "If you've the time, I'd like to discuss your arrangements at Skyhold."

A lame excuse, one that he hoped she wouldn't latch onto. But the unamused look he'd been subjected to earlier in the night made him feel that he wouldn't be so lucky.

"Correct me if I am wrong," She started, her head tilting slightly, the scar peeking beneath her mask catching the light, making it take on an almost silver sheen, "But I thought that Lady Montilyet would be the one to organize my accommodations. She is the one who deals with these kinds of things, no?”

A shaky laugh escaped Cullen, his hand immediately moving to rub the back of his neck. “Would you be terribly upset with me if I told you that I simply wanted to talk with you and couldn't find a better reason?”

Eliana’s face was unreadable, something that unnerved Cullen. Her eyes bore into his, as if trying to ascertain the truth of his statement. She then glanced over towards the balcony, not unlike the one where the Inquisitor had disappeared just moments ago, with a certain ambassador in tow. Sparing a glance at him, she held her head high as she took a step closer, crowding his space.

“You may escort me to the balcony, Commander.”

Cullen's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure of whether or not the woman before him was plotting his demise—although perhaps being pushed off the balcony would be a better demise than he could've hoped, so long as it was her. When she continued to look at him expectantly, he held his arm out for her, sucking in a breath as she linked her arm with his.

Though the walk itself was not far, it felt like an eternity to Cullen. Neither of them spoke as they approached, with Eliana removing her arm from his as she walked towards the edge, leaning her arms against the stone railing.

Sensing that Cullen would not move from his spot without permission, Eliana let out a light laugh, looking back at him as she extended her hand, “Well? Come join me, I promise I don't bite.”

Letting out a chuckle of his own, he hesitantly moved beside her, mirroring her posture. "That's not what I'm afraid of."

Once again, silence took hold of the two of them, still as suffocating as the first time. Cullen couldn't help but steal a few glances at her, admiring the way the moonlight lit her features. He had to hold his breath as Eliana took off her masquerade mask, her striking grey eyes now fully visible, along with the scar that went all the way down the side of her face. She was still as beautiful as he’d remembered, and although both of them wore the scars and tiredness that came with a life of service, looking at her here and now, her face being kissed by the thousands of stars in the night sky, it felt as though no time had passed. He could almost forget that it’d been nearly ten years since he’d last laid eyes on her, could almost pretend he were still the same foolish boy he once was all those years ago.

Being able to gaze upon her once more made him feel as though he were just Cullen Stanton Rutherford, a farm boy from Ferelden who had nothing more to offer her than just his love and admiration, however much that was worth to her.

Mistaking his silence as hesitancy, Eliana sighed, turning away from him as her mask dangled at her front, “Cullen, if this is too much, I can always tell Leliana no—”

“No!” He exclaimed, bowing his head in a silent apology at her startled expression, “I am sorry, I meant—or what I am trying to say is—”

Cutting himself off once more, he let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face harshly before soldiering on, “I was never any good at this.”

"At words?” Eliana teased, intertwining her hands with his at his disheartened look, “That was mean of me. I apologize. Please, continue.”

Feeling more relaxed at her touch, he took in a deep breath, “Having you alongside the Inquisitor is politically advantageous to us, as I’m sure Leliana’s told you,” Pausing, he rubbed his thumb absentmindedly over the back of her hand, “Though, I would be lying if I were to say that was my only motivation for having you in Skyhold.”

Eliana hummed thoughtfully, the slight widening of her eyes betraying her surprise at his boldness, “Oh? What would be your reasoning for wanting me in your Inquisition?”

“If I were to be completely honest with myself, there have been moments where I find myself thinking of you, all those years ago; of what I would say to you if given the chance to be near you once more, of how I might atone for those mistakes,” Letting out a humorless laugh, his eyes looked to anywhere but her, “Especially what happened after Kirkwall, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just been stronger, bolder, then perhaps none of this would be happening. Perhaps, if I had been able to think for myself, you would never had have to been cast away from Kinloch to become a Grey Warden, and maybe we could even—”

“I don't think it would have changed anything,” Eliana interrupted, a sad smile playing on her lips. “Anything we could've had wouldn't have lasted. I was a mage, and you were a templar; there's nothing that could've been done.”

Though he knew she was right, having it laid out in front of him was like a stab in the heart. Part of him had hoped, as small and fleeting as that hope was, that perhaps they could've been something.

Before he could even think to stop it, his traitorous mouth opened up, “And now?” The shocked look on her face made him bite his tongue, already reprimanding himself for assuming too much, “Or, what I mean to say is–”

“Now,” She spoke; her hands leaving his in order to smooth away the wrinkles on his uniform, “Now, you are the Commander of the Inquisition, and I the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. I'd say that puts us on even ground, would it not?”

Looking at her with disbelief, Cullen found himself frozen in place, unable to believe what he'd just heard. At her hopeful gaze, he straightened up, a newfound sense of courage rippling through his body.

“Well then,” he started, holding out his hand for hers and then bowing once she'd taken it, “Let me re-introduce myself. I am Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition forces.”

Letting out a small giggle, Eliana curtsied, her eyes shining with unbridled joy, “Warden-Commander Eliana Amell, it's a pleasure to be reacquainted with you, Commander.”

“Cullen,” He corrected, his cheeks turning a wonderful shade of pink once he realized that she wasn't letting go of his hand any time soon, “Just Cullen.”

Eliana bit her lip, trying to stop the large grin from erupting on her face; a fruitless endeavor, as Cullen was already beaming back at her.

“Well then, Cullen,” She started, squeezing his hand gently in her own, marveling at how perfectly they fit together, “Would it be terribly crass of me to ask you to dance with me again?”

The way that she looked at him, rubing the back of his hand soothingly, made him believe that she wouldn't be mad if he were to say no. Eliana was simply content to simply stand there with him in the cold evening air. 

But for once, Cullen wanted to be brave.

Hesitantly, as if scared she'd disappear at his touch, he shifted one hand to her waist, moving their intertwined hands into the air, leading them in a simple waltz.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Cullen couldn't hear anything other than Josephine's chastising at his inability to dance, her constant counting behind the soft lull of the orchestra. 

Maker, did he wish he’d taken those lessons more seriously.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Instead of stepping back, Cullen nearly stepped on the hem of Eliana's dress, causing the two of them to stumble, and Cullen felt his stomach begin to turn.

Here he was, with the most beautiful woman in all of Ferelden, and possibly in the entirety of Thedas, and he couldn't even lead her in a simple dance without embarrassing himself.

He was going to be sick. This was an absolute mistake.

One, two, three. One, two, three—

Instead of following their pattern, Eliana's face erupted into a mischevious grin before yanking the two of them off to the side, where they very nearly tumbled off into the shrubbery had it not been for Cullen reaching out to right them, his hands now dangerously low on her waist.

After he was able to recollect himself, Cullen threw the woman in his arms an unamused look, though it didn't seem to deter her as Eliana snorted, failing to hold back her laughter. 

Lifting a hand, she caressed the left side of his face, her thumb rubbing soothingly across the scar near his lip, “I'm sorry; you looked like you could stand to get out of your head,”

Sighing, he turned his face to press a gentle kiss to her palm, before standing them both up, content smiles on both of their faces. He pointedly tried not to think about how she had not let go of his hand, nor did he think about how utterly clammy his hands must have been. Instead, he leaned in closer, as if to share a secret. Just as she tilted her head upward, a sparkle in her eye, he'd heard a small cough, followed by three more, louder coughs. 

Glaring over at the culprits—of which consisted of not only an utterly nosy Tevinter mage, but the Inquisitor herself—he sighed through his nose, his head bowing in apology.

"I apologize, Warden-Commander Amell," A faux air of gravitas filling his tone, "But I am afraid duty calls."

Rolling her eyes, Eliana gave his hand one last squeeze, not wanting to let go. "Of course. I hope to see you soon, Commander."

Pressing a kiss to her hand, he smiled; a real one, one that he hadn't felt in years.    

"Of that, I'm sure of."

unpopular opinion but i enjoyed wicked eyes and wicked hearts :o

[asian-hero]

tis me! if you like dragon age please come and yell at me abt it i'm in hell

also! ao3 link for those who don't like reading on tumblr :)

[shivunin]

Rook Codex Writing Prompts

A list of 30 writing prompts inspired by other DA codex prompt lists. Contains no plot spoilers for Veilguard.

A letter to Rook about their exile

An entry from Rook’s journal

A letter from Rook to someone in their faction

A note from a companion to Rook about the Lighthouse

A conversation overheard between Rook and a companion

Healer’s summary of treatment for Rook’s wounds

Something written by a character from a previous game about Rook

A future historian’s analysis of Rook’s actions (Bonus: featuring a relevant primary source)

Rook’s shopping list 

Note found in Rook’s pocket

Report summarizing what is known about Rook by an allied or enemy faction

Rook’s daily schedule

A message between two companions about Rook

A letter from a faction leader to a companion about Rook’s actions

Rook’s packing list for travel to a quest location

Letter from Rook to their love interest

Rook’s notes on the Lighthouse/Caretaker

Notes between a companion and Rook regarding a personal quest

Inventory of personal belongings Rook left behind when they left their faction

Something written about Rook on a historical plaque

A letter from an enemy regarding Rook

An entry from an encyclopedia/travel guide about an aspect of Rook’s background (Bonus: followed by a note from Rook supporting or refuting its accuracy)

Excerpt from a play dramatizing Rook’s actions (Bonus: include a review of this play)

A letter from Rook to a faction leader

Notes taken by Rook when they were young/in training

A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend

Analysis of a piece of art created for/about Rook

Propaganda for or against Rook

Something written to Rook post-game

A note/letter that Rook never sent

[asian-hero]

hi!! don’t want to rush you at all but i’d love another chapter of that dimitri fanfiction soon, it’s so good! as long as you’re willing ofc, hope you’re well

hello my love!! i’m glad you enjoyed it! i haven’t been in that fandom for a little bit, but seeing this makes me want to polish up the rest and post it, so stay tuned! 💓💓

[asian-hero]

Welcome Home; I'm Home

Alhaitham/Reader

Being in a relationship is hard. It requires constant work and sharing vulnerabilities you never thought you'd indulge in. Both parties need to constantly choose one another, despite their flaws. It's a good thing that you choose Alhaitham, even when his blunt nature rears its ugly head.

a/n: have a lil alhaitham hurt/comfort, as a treat :)

wc: 1.4k

The silence that filled your home was deafening. 

Though, you supposed that anything would be quieter compared to the explosive argument that broke out between you and Alhaitham.

It started out as an ordinary conversation. You’d been telling Alhaitham about your plans for your day off; all the while you fluttered around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the both of you. He hadn’t been contributing much to the conversation, but you didn’t think much of it. You weren’t sure exactly what it was that caused him to snap, but as soon as he’d let out a long sigh, you knew something was wrong.

Pausing your ramblings, you turned away from the coffee you were brewing, tilting your head to the side. “Habibi? Are you okay?”

Soft mutterings were the only thing that you could hear, almost as if his sleep-deprived consciousness were attempting to filter his thoughts even after they left his lips. Frowning, you moved closer, gently brushing the silver bangs away from his face. “What was that?”

“Too loud,” He spoke up, an irritated scowl appearing as he swatted away your hand, “Would it be so terrible to have some peace and quiet for once?”

You blinked, letting your hands fall to your sides as you dealt with the sudden surprise. Leveling an unimpressed look at the man before you, you crossed your arms across your chest. “Don’t take that tone with me, Alhaitham.”

Alhaitham mirrored your attitude, leaning back in his chair, “Don’t treat me like a child. I already have to deal with dozens of people droning on about things I don’t care about at the Akademiya, I don’t need to hear about it in my own home.”

Running your tongue against the front of your teeth in annoyance, you spoke up. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know that it was so terrible to want to talk to my lover before they leave for work,”

“Picking a fight first thing in the morning?” He questioned, rolling his eyes as he got up from his spot, “Very mature of you, Habibti.”

“I’m picking a fight?” You exclaimed, feeling your voice grow louder as you followed him into your shared bedroom, “You decided to have an attitude with me this morning and suddenly I’m the one who’s picking a fight? Maybe if you were a ‘mature’ enough adult to just say what your problem is I wouldn’t be bothering you!”

Turning sharply, he pointed a finger at you. “You are the problem. I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to talk, but you just kept going. Do you think I care about what fruits you’re going to pick up at the market? Or how you’ll organize the library?”

You watched in silence as Alhaitham grabbed a seemingly random book from the pile on his nightstand before heading out of the shared space and to the front door.

“You know what? I hope you have back-to-back meetings and no time to read that stupid book of yours!” You yelled out, only to be met with the harsh sound of the front door slamming.

That was several hours ago.

Deciding that you wouldn’t let Alhaitham’s outburst ruin your day, you continued with the rest of your day. In the time after your fight, you had gone to the bazaar to grab some staples and some fresh cherries that caught your eye, had a wonderful lunch by yourself, and you had managed to clean a bit around the house. Since the menial tasks you’d set out to do didn’t completely calm you down, you’d also started rearranging Alhaitham’s library by color, knowing that he’d have to deal with the inefficient organizational system for the next few weeks before he’d inevitably fix it all himself. 

Once you’d finished your petty act of defiance, you found yourself curled up on one of the loveseats, casually flipping through your light novel as you felt the remnants of your earlier agitation fade. Just as you were turning the page, you heard the lock of the front door turning, the creaking of the door a familiar noise in all of the chaotic silence that surrounded you. 

Though, rather than feeling the rush of warmth and contentment fill your chest, you felt nothing but the bitter silence that continued to linger after your argument.

You refused to look up, opting to continue your reading, even when you heard hesitant footsteps drawing closer. Eventually, you felt the cushions beneath you dip, a warm presence at your side. Long fingers moved in your peripheral, hesitating slightly before settling by your waist, tugging lightly at your shirt. 

A silent question, allowing you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted.

Sighing, you closed your book, setting it down on the table in front of you before looking down at the hand grasping at the hem of your shirt. Slowly, you moved to tug his hand off, intertwining your fingers together. There were many things that you’d wanted to say; part of you, the uglier side, wanted to continue your argument, wanting nothing more than to make him feel as bad as you had earlier. After all, it was unfair of him to take his anger out on you.

However, the better part of you, the one who loved the man beside you dearly despite all his faults, despised the hesitance in Alhaitham’s posture, as if you’d leave for good if he weren’t careful enough. 

You wanted to let him know that though you were still hurt, he didn’t need to be scared. 

“Welcome home,” You said instead, running your thumb across his knuckles.

He stared at you momentarily, studying your expression in silent contemplation. In the end, he simply let out a wisp of a laugh, squeezing your hand. “I’m home.”

A tense silence filled the air, both of you wanting to start the conversation, but neither of you knowing how to. Eventually, you settled on the familiar. “You pissed me off today.”

If Alhaitham was shocked at your candidness, he didn’t show it, instead nodding solemnly as he listened. “I know. I’m sorry,”

“If I was annoying you, you should have just told me,”

“You weren’t annoying me,” When he noticed your furrowed brow, he sighed in annoyance, though you knew it was aimed at himself for not being able to express how he was feeling, “I started feeling overwhelmed. One moment I was waking up, and the next I felt my head pounding and my ears aching.”

Looking smaller than you’d seen him before, he looked away, quietly mumbling, “It was too loud.”

For a short while, it was silent between the two of you. Both of you sat still, with the exception of Alhaitham’s fingers twitching against your hand, a nervous tick you’d learned about during your first year of dating. 

Eventually, you huffed affectionately, moving your unoccupied hand to flick his forehead, instantly rubbing your thumb against the reddening skin to soothe it. “Next time just tell me how you’re feeling instead of acting like I can read your mind,” Squeezing his hand, you narrowed your eyes, “I won’t be as kind if you act like this again.”

He nodded his head again, untwining your hands in favor of leaning forward, letting his head come to rest on your chest. Pressing a gentle kiss to your heart, you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “I will. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

You returned his affections, your arms hugging his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I didn’t mean to make you overwhelmed,”

“I know.”

“I got cherries today,” You mumbled in his hair, feeling him hum against your skin in response, “I also rearranged your library by color.”

You felt him laugh, fingers coming to pinch the fat of your hips, “I suppose I deserved that,”

After that, the two of you fell silent, this time merely enjoying each other’s company. You ran your hands along his back soothingly, feeling for the first time today that you could finally breathe in your own home. Your chest felt light, and you could only imagine how the man before you was feeling.

After a short while, Alhaitham propped his head against your chest, peering at you with inquisitive eyes.

“Hm?” You questioned, brushing the bangs away from his face.

A few more seconds went by, the man in front of you deciding on whether or not he should interrupt the peaceful air surrounding the two of you. Eventually, he settled on a question.

“Are we okay?”

You pursed your lips, observing the way Alhaitham’s fingers danced across your back, another nervous tick. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you smiled.

“We will be,”

i feel like i would have some of the most awful fights with this man, he should be lucky he's pretty and i happen to like pretty things/j

[asian-hero]

masterlist

☞ bnha/mha

☞ detroit: become human

☞ fire emblem: three houses

☞ genshin

☞ voltron: legendary defender (under construction!)

[asian-hero]

Drunken Confessions

Alhaitham/Reader

It's hard to deny your feelings for the Acting Grand Sage and dear friend when your drunken self speaks them so earnestly. It's a shame you can't seem to recall them.

a/n: i have such brainrot for this man it's not even funny anymore

wc: 3.1k

The first thing you awoke to was the harsh light of the morning sun streaming through the curtains. Groaning, you moved an arm across your face, covering your eyes in an attempt to block the offending light from view. 

The second thing you noticed, however, was the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting into the space. It was an alarming scent, considering you lived by yourself and never gave anyone a spare key. Shooting up, you blindly reached around, looking for something to defend yourself with. Though, your momentary panic was short-lived, as a familiar laugh cut through the air, the sound drawing closer with each second.

“So you’re finally awake,” Alhaitham mused, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding out the cup of coffee for you, “Are you feeling alright?”

Relaxing, you let out another tired groan, taking the warm cup from his hands. “I feel like I’ve been thrown off a twenty-foot cliff,”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” He chided, though a hint of laughter could be heard in his tone, his hand resting on your knee, “Considering the only painful experience you had last night was trying to out-drink Kaveh,”

Taking a long sip, you felt your eyebrows furrowing, trying your best to remember the night before. Bits and pieces came to you, with Alhaitham’s anecdote filling in some of the picture. All you could remember was Kaveh asking if you were available, citing some issues with a current client of his and wanting to drink his sorrows. Besides that, you couldn’t remember any other details, including how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Hesitantly, you set the coffee cup on the nightstand, taking in your surroundings. Large piles of heavy tomes and small, eclectic Aranara statues seemed to stare back at you. The comforter beneath your fingers felt soft to the touch, the olive green hue matching the rest of the house. It was also surprisingly heavier than you thought it’d be, its weight soothing your worries and inviting you to fall back into slumber. You felt Alhaitham’s thumb gently caress your covered knee, drawing your attention back to reality.

Looking back at the man in front of you, you felt your cheeks begin to heat up. It appeared that he’d gotten up earlier than you, all of his usual attire neatly in place, save for his cloak and headphones, both of which were surprisingly nowhere to be seen. In the time you were observing his room, he seemed to shift closer to you, his head tilted slightly as he continued to stare at you in curiosity. His watercolor eyes followed your every move, dipping from the fidgeting of your hands to your own wandering eyes. If you were any more delusional, you would’ve thought his gaze softened at your morning form, as if he were somehow enchanted by your disheveled self.

Subconsciously, you ran a hand through your hair in a poor attempt to tame any unruly pieces before tucking yourself into the weighted blanket, covering yourself as much as you could. “So, you brought me back to your home?”

Though it was an obvious question, he nodded his head, answering you seriously. “I did.”

You nodded your head along, your eyes landing upon a pile of clothes neatly folded on his armchair, looking suspiciously like the ones you were wearing the previous day. Peering beneath the weighted blanket, you felt your eyes widen in shock and embarrassment as you gazed upon a shirt that was indeed, not yours. 

Your head snapped up, eyes wider than you thought possible. “I—You—Did we?”

At this, Alhaitham’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, I wouldn’t take advantage—” Pausing, the corners of his lips tipped downward, his eyes narrowing as if he were piecing the puzzle together, “Do you not remember anything?”

You winced at his tone, feeling as though you were no better than a child being scolded by their parent. “I’m sorry…I didn’t,” You hesitated, unsure if you should press the topic further, “I didn’t say anything bad, did I?”

For a short while, Alhaitham’s expression became unreadable. While normally he wasn’t easy to read, you were always able to get an idea of how he was feeling; whether or not he was happy and content, if he was irritated or overstimulated. Now, though, you couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was thinking. Before you could question him further, he suddenly stood up from his spot, dusting off imaginary dust from his pants.

“You didn’t say anything important,” He stated, back facing you as he moved to leave, “I have work. Feel free to use the shower, and make sure to wash my shirt before you return it.”

With that, the door to his bedroom closed behind him. If you listened closely, you could hear his footsteps growing further before the front door slammed shut. Though Alhaitham had, rather bluntly, told you that nothing happened, you couldn’t help but feel anxiety gnaw at your stomach, feeling as if you’d missed something important.

Not wanting to take advantage of the man’s hospitality for longer than needed, you quickly hopped into the shower, ignoring the fluttering of your heart as you washed yourself of the night before, and grabbed your clothes from the chair and changed, cringing at the thought of wearing your dirty laundry. Tidying up his bed, you hesitated on whether or not you should leave his shirt behind, before ultimately remembering he’d wanted it cleaned before you returned it. Tucking the aforementioned shirt underneath your arm, you made a break for the front door, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you leave the Acting Grand Sage’s house. 

You would’ve made it too, had it not been for the blonde architect who was at fault for the entire night.

“Archons, Alhaitham, would it kill you to be a little quieter—” Kaveh complained, looking equally as disheveled, pausing as soon as his eyes landed on you.

For a few seconds, the two of you were in a standoff, both of you processing what was happening. Kaveh seemed to grasp the situation first, letting out an ugly snort.

“What’s this?” He started, an eyebrow arching playfully, “Bedding the Grand Sage? What, did he promise he’d approve your research proposal?”

You pointed an accusatory finger at him, eyes narrowing. “Do not start with me, Kaveh.”

Your warning did nothing to dissuade the architect, in fact, they only seemed to embolden him. Smirking, he sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his chest for added effect. “Oh dear, you know I’m teasing. I know you’d sleep with him with no ulterior motives, though I can’t fathom why on Teyvat—” Cutting himself off, he frowned, peering around for the aforementioned sage, “Wait, where is your loverboy?”

“He left for work,” You sighed, arms crossing protectively across your chest, “And he’s not my ‘loverboy,’ we didn’t even sleep together.”

Kaveh seemed surprised at this revelation, his lips parting in shock before he fixed his expression. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, he gestured towards the coffee table, beckoning you to join him. Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible, you knew that as soon as Kaveh caught wind of your problems, it would take nothing less than a natural disaster to make him not help you. So, you took a seat, watching as he moved around the kitchen, brewing himself some tea, putting away the second cup when you politely declined. 

As the two of you waited for the water to boil, he turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on with you two? You seemed to be okay after your little conversation,”

Your little conversation. So you had said something weird. You groaned, rubbing your temples as you processed everything. “That’s the problem, Kaveh. I can’t remember what I said last night.”

A pause. “Nothing?”

You hummed an affirmative, “When I asked Alhaitham about it, he seemed upset, but I don’t know why, and I can’t apologize for it if I can’t remember what I said.”

At your words, you watched as Kaveh’s expression shifted from one of surprise to one you couldn’t read. For the second time this morning, you found yourself utterly useless at reading others’ emotions.

“You truly can’t remember what you said?”

“I just told you—”

“Think about it,” He started, a hint of exasperated humor tinting his voice, “What could you possibly say last night that would make Alhaitham upset you couldn’t remember?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be in this position, you—”

“Think harder.”

When you only continued to look confused, Kaveh sighed, deciding to take pity on you. “Let me rephrase: did you notice anything…different, about him this morning?”

Huffing, you crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair as you thought back to earlier this morning. “I mean, before he left, he seemed, softer? He made sure I was okay but didn’t say much.”

Fingers drifting to your knee, your fingers traced the area where his hand was, heat slowly traveling back to your cheeks. “He was also more touchy?” You pouted, looking back up at the blonde man, “But I don’t see how—”

“Archons you’re dense,” He started, not stopping when you cried out indignantly, “You told him that you love him last night. That’s why he’s upset you can’t remember.”

The two of you were silent, the only sound being the whistling of the kettle, angrily announcing its presence. As if solving a puzzle, bits and pieces of your fragmented night began to replay in your mind, starting from your first drink with Kaveh, to Alhaitham walking in, helping you steady yourself as he led the two of you out of the tavern.

You also remembered how you’d immediately clambered onto the man as soon as you saw him walk into the tavern, a drunken smile plastered on your face as he attempted to steady the two of you, the lightest of blushes crawling up his neck.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, before craning his neck to look at his roommate, “What did you do?”

You giggled as Kaveh protested behind you, refusing to accept fault for your current state. Smiling up at the gray-haired man, you leaned forward, resting your chin on his chest. “Don’t be mad, Haitham,” Moving your hands to cup his cheeks, you laughed, “‘S not a good look on you,”

“Oh?” He questioned, letting you manhandle his face as you wished, “I suppose I can’t be mad anymore then, can I?”

“Nope!” You chirped, tugging the corners of his lips into a lopsided smile, “Too pretty to be mad. Should smile more,”

As you trailed off, Alhaitham felt you slipping slightly. Gripping you tighter, he attempted to pull you towards the door, “C’mon, it’s time to get you home.”

He expected you to put up more of a fight, but instead, you seemed to melt into his touch, letting yourself be dragged along. “M’okay, thanks Haitham. Love you,”

At your words, he froze, his eyes snapping back to your figure. Taking his silence as disbelief, you pouted, pulling away from his grip slightly to face him. 

“S’not nice. I said ‘love you,’” You reiterated, swaying slightly, “Say it back, asshole.”

When he still hadn’t said anything, your frown deepened. Pointing at him, your finger waving in his face. “You don’t believe me? Fine, I’ll shout it to the whole world—” Turning to face the rest of the tavern, you began to shout, “Hey! I’m in love with—!”

A calloused hand came to cover your mouth, and you felt Alhaitham’s strong arm wrap around your waist, tugging you toward the entrance. “Alright, I get it. Let’s go, we’ll talk about this later.”

Though his words were blunt, you noticed that his face was bright red, and there was a smile he couldn’t quite mask in time.

The scraping of a chair against wood floors caused you to snap back to reality. Lifting your head, you watched as a smug smirk began to overtake the architect’s face, though he tried to hide it with his cup of tea.

“Well?” He asked, setting his cup down as he watched you go through all five stages of grief in mere minutes, “Remember now? I’m sure everyone at Lambad’s remembers if you don’t.”

“I told him—”

“Yes.”

“In front of—?”

“Unfortunately,” Kaveh sympathized, though it was short-lived, “It was rather entertaining, though.”

“And he,” You started, voice faltering as you came to your next realization, “He feels the same way?”

The look Kaveh gave you was a mix between relief that you finally came to that conclusion, and disbelief that it took you that long to realize the younger man’s affections. Though, he supposed, it was better late than never for you to realize it.

Grabbing your hands in his own, Kaveh looked you in the eye, exasperation clear in his posture. “My dear, he’s felt the same way about you for a long time, and if I have to watch the two of you pine over each other for another minute I think I’ll snap.”

Looking at your intertwined hands, you squeezed his before dropping them, rising from your seat. “I need to go.”

You barely heard Kaveh wishing you luck before you let the door shut behind you, your legs taking you to the Akademiya as fast as they could. It was almost as if you were on autopilot for the entire way there, as you weren’t entirely sure how you’d managed to secure yourself access to the Acting Grand Sage without a prior meeting appointment. Though, if you were to guess based on the information you’d recently been enlightened to, you figured that Alhaitham had told the Akademiya staff that there was a list of certain people he’d allow into his office at any time, and you were most likely one of them.

You continued to go through the motions until you found yourself standing before the doors of Alhaitham’s office. Hesitantly, you knocked on the door, waiting for his answer.

“Come in.”

Taking a steadying breath, you pushed the doors open, peeking in only to find Alhaitham leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning the document in his hand. You couldn’t help but stare, watching as his fingers tapped against his desk, seemingly subconsciously. 

A loud sigh snapped you out of your daydreaming, the fingers tapping against the desk becoming more rapid. “If you have more proposals, just set them on the table and leave.”

“Oh,” You started, realizing that you hadn’t planned out what you wanted to say, “Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have any proposals for you to review, but I do have some information from last night that you might like to hear,”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham’s eyes moved from the document, widening a fraction once they met yours. Slowly, he set down the papers, his arms crossing against his chest. 

“I thought I told you that you didn’t—”

“I remember what I said last night.”

For the second time today, you’d managed to render Alhaitham speechless. Before he could come back with any sort of remark, you cleared your throat, shifting your weight. “I would just like to inform you that I am still very much in love with you, and hopefully it’s more believable now that I’m no longer ‘under the influence,’”

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you were silent. You began to fidget with your hands; the tension in the office felt suffocating, and it didn’t help that Alhaitham just continued to stare at you, as if he were dissecting you, trying to find the truth within your words. Eventually, as anxiety continued to shred up your insides, you heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps drawing closer to you. Long, elegant fingers wrapped around yours, pulling them apart from each other in order to intertwine them. Thumbs gently rubbed circles into the backs of your hands, similar to how they did this morning.

“You know,” He started, the smallest of pouts gracing his lips, “That was quite rude of you, to confess while under the influence and then not even remember the next morning.”

You laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “Well, it’s rude of you to not even give me an answer. I laid out my love for you in front of everyone last night, and you didn’t even say it back!”

He hummed, the ghost of a smile lighting his eyes. “I suppose I was rude, wasn’t I?” Leaning closer, he reveled in the way you froze up, tensing underneath his touch, “I should make it up to you, right?”

Moving his hands to caress your cheeks, he smiled, unabashed and unrestrained. “I am unequivocally and irreversibly in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for ages, and I’m so thankful that you’ve finally decided to open your eyes and see it.”

When you continued to stare at him in awe, he laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He waited patiently for you to come back down, his hands trailing down to hold your waist.

Once you finally regained your ability to speak, you said the first thing on your mind. “I didn’t wash your shirt.”

You heard an unelegant snort come from the man in front of you, turning his head to the side in an attempt to hide his mirth. “I noticed.”

You nodded your head, humming as if you were lost in thought. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I figured,” He drawled, squeezing your waist teasingly, “Otherwise you wouldn’t barge into my office without notice.”

“Oh, so I’m that predictable, huh?” You challenged, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Habibti,” He tested, enjoying the way your face heated up, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, there’s almost nothing about you that I can’t predict.”

“Oh really?”

Before he could make a snide remark, you cupped his cheeks, surging forward to press a kiss to his lips. You could feel Alhaitham stiffen against you, before melting into your embrace, his hands moving to card through your hair. His lips were soft and warm against your own, allowing you to take control. You could feel his breath tickle the skin beneath your nose, and you eventually had to pull away, giggling at the way Alhaitham’s lips chased you. 

You pressed a quick kiss to this cheek, enjoying the slightly dazed look in his eyes. “I bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

At this, he laughed along, pulling you closer to him. Dipping his head for another kiss, he smiled against your lips.

“I can’t say that I did.”

everyone say 'thank you kaveh' bc these fools certainly won't </3

[asian-hero]

writing is fun again and i'm excited about my next piece coming out so here's a little sneak peak if anyone's interested :)

“Isn’t there anything else you’re forgetting?” He questioned, looking at you expectantly, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. Though it took you a few seconds, you knew what the man was after. Wanting to play with him a little longer, you furrowed your brow in mock confusion. After a few seconds, you playfully gasped, pretending to have just gotten it. “I did,” You started, a small smile playing on your lips, “Kaveh mentioned something about submitting a proposal today, something about creating more affordable housing? Do be sure to keep an eye out for that, dear.” Alhaitham opened his mouth, then immediately closed it, trying to figure out if he was being too vague with his wants. However, one look at your playful demeanor made him realize that no, he wasn’t being vague, you were simply teasing him. Huffing, he let go of your wrist, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ll see if I can get to it today,” He stated, the smallest of pouts forming on his lips as he began to stalk away from the kitchen. You let him walk a little further before you called out, “Alhaitham?” Before the man could respond, you ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips against his, enjoying the way he stiffened up against you. Before he could even put his arms around your waist, you pulled away, pressing one last kiss to his cheek when he groaned in protest. Heading to the front door, you enjoyed the sight before you; rosy cheeks complimenting the dazed look in Alhaitham’s eyes.  “I love you, have a good day at work!” With that, you left Alhaitham to wonder how the tables had turned on him so quickly.

[asian-hero]

detroit: become human masterlist

☂︎ = angst

❤︎ = fluff

⦿ = smut

☆ = new

connor rk800

hcs

✑ reader who's like a sister to him ❤︎

fics

✑ #43 from writing prompts ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ #19 from writing prompts ❤︎

✑ #54 from writing prompts ❤︎

conkus/rk1000

series

✑ let me crash my kart into your heart (abandoned) ❤︎

✑ chapter one

✑ chapter two

✑ chapter three

✑ chapter four

✑ chapter five

✑ chapter six

✑ chapter seven

✑ chapter eight

✑ chapter nine

✑ chapter ten

✑ chapter eleven

✑ chapter twelve

[asian-hero]

redoing all my masterlists and i just realized this means that i have to touch the ungodly long voltron masterlist :,D

[asian-hero]

fire emblem: three houses masterlist

☂︎ = angst

❤︎ = fluff

⦿ = smut

☆ = new

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

fics

✑ damsel doing damage ❤︎

✑ the tempest king and his maid ☂︎ + ❤︎

felix hugo fraldarius

hcs

✑ relationship hcs ❤︎

mercedes von martritz

fics

✑ apple tarts and soft kisses ❤︎

[asian-hero]

bnha/mha masterlist

☂︎ = angst

❤︎ = fluff

⦿ = smut

☆ = new

aizawa shouta

fics

✑ the side only you see ❤︎

ashido mina

fics

✑ not boys, girls ❤︎

bakugou katsuki

hcs

✑ let me lend you a shoulder ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ hot n' cold ❤︎

✑ can you hear me? ❤︎

fics

✑ these goddamn christmas lights ❤︎

iida tenya

hcs

✑ can you hear me? ❤︎

✑ museum dates ❤︎

midoriya izuku

hcs

✑ let me lend you a shoulder ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ museum dates ❤︎

tamaki amajiki

hcs

✑ how can i help you? ☂︎ + ❤︎

todoroki shouto

hcs

✑ let me lend you a shoulder ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ how can i help you? ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ play me a song ☂︎ (?) + ❤︎

fics

✑ bliss doesn't last forever ☂︎

✑ despite the fights, i still love you ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ warm me up ❤︎

✑ taking hearts, stealing shirts ❤︎

✑ doubts and deceit ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ it's a wonderful day to propose, don't you think? ❤︎

✑ i'd lay my life down for you ☂︎

✑ let me be your rock ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ love me for me, quicklessness and all ☂︎

✑ he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me? ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ i wish i was a priority ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ i (don't) hate you ❤︎ (?)

✑ lost with you ❤︎

✑ hey, mr. sunflower! ❤︎

✑ christmas activities ❤︎

✑ christmas toppers and mistletoe kisses ❤︎

series

✑ childhood friends (completed) ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ wish upon a star (prequel/sequel of opfcm)

✑ of pressed flowers and childhood memories

✑ i'll love you enough for the both of us (completed) ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ the words i desperately want to say

✑ [im]perfectly you

✑ the words i can finally say to you in confidence

✑ too impatient to wait another lifetime (being rewritten!) ☂︎ -> ❤︎

✑ part i

✑ part ii

✑ part iii

yaoyorozu momo

hcs

✑ you make me fall in love everyday i'm with you ❤︎

✑ let me show you what love is ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ hi hungry, i'm dad ❤︎

✑ how can i help you? ☂︎ + ❤︎

✑ can you hear me? ❤︎

✑ museum dates ❤︎

fics

✑ taking the space out of "girl friend" ❤︎

✑ kisses in an open kitchen ❤︎

[asian-hero]

genshin impact masterlist

☂︎ = angst

❤︎ = fluff

⦿ = smut

☆ = new

alhaitham

fics

✑ sunscreen and sunkissed affections ❤︎

✑ drunken confessions ❤︎

✑ welcome home; i'm home ☂︎❤︎☆

[asian-hero]

Sunscreen and Sunkissed Affections

Alhaitham/Reader

In which you attempt to bribe the Acting Grand Sage to take better care of his skin before traversing into the hot summer sun

a/n: used a random word generator to try and get the creative juices flowing and popped this out :,) also hi it’s been a while </3

i am a lover of stoic men being clingy and will die on this hill

wc: 1.3k

“Stop moving, or it’ll get in your mouth,” You chastised, squishing the cheeks between your palms for emphasis.

Alhaitham, eloquent as ever, merely huffed in protest, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands from his face. His grip was gentle— it always was— and easy enough for you to twist your way out of your new confinements. 

“Habibi,” You started, exasperated at his childish attempts at escaping your caring hands, “I refuse to let you out in the sun without protection.”

Rather than reaching for your wrists again, the man instead assumed a more defensive position, using his hands to block his face. “I don’t like the feeling,”

You let out a tired sigh, your sunscreen-covered hands falling to your side. 

Convincing Alhaitham to accompany you to Puspa Café was easier than you originally thought. All it took was for you to wistfully mention that it had been a while since the two of you had last had time to yourselves, with him being unwillingly promoted to the Acting Grand Sage, and he was putty in your hands. If there was anything the man enjoyed more than doing nothing, it was doing nothing with you. 

Getting him to care for his well-being, however, proved to be more of a feat than you were intending. 

“You know, not wearing sunscreen is how you get sun spots later in life,” You then gasped dramatically, feigning worry, “Or worse, skin cancer.”

“I’m not going to get skin cancer just because I don’t wear sunscreen religiously.” He argued, not letting up on his defensive stance. 

You raised an eyebrow, your expression similar to one of a mother scolding her child, “Alhaitham, Habibi, light of my life,” You started, allowing yourself to enjoy the dusting of light pink that colored his cheeks, “It will not kill you to put on sunscreen. It won’t even take two minutes!”

“I don’t like how it feels,” He emphasized again, the smallest of pouts forming on his lips, “It’s oily and sticky.”

“Not this one, I bought it specifically for you!”

When his stance didn’t change, you frowned. Deciding to change tactics, you instead threw your hands up in mock frustration, sighing loudly. “Fine, I suppose the love of my life will simply ignore my care for him and toss my love and affection to the side,”

“I did not toss your love to the side–”

“Tossed, I say!” You cried, taking exaggerated steps towards the kitchen to rinse off the excess sunscreen from your hands. 

Shortly after your dramatic departure, you could hear the sound of faint footsteps following after your form. You fought back a smile as you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your torso, squeezing you gently in greeting. When you didn’t respond to Alhaitham’s affections, he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, tentatively kissing the spot. You continued to wash your hands, unwittingly tugging the man along as you moved to grab a rag to dry your hands. 

After a few seconds of silence, Alhaitham sighed, resting his forehead against your shoulder. 

“Habibti, didn’t you want to get some padisarah pudding today? We should hurry, I would hate if it sold out before you could order it,”

Alhaitham was bluffing and you both knew it. It was too early for anything to be sold out; he was just using it as an excuse to push the two of you out the door. You, however silly the reason for doing so, stood your ground. Pouting, you crossed your arms in disapproval despite your back facing him.

Alhaitham huffed affectionately, nuzzling his face further into your shoulder, a handful of placating kisses were pressed upon your skin. “Didn’t you want to get your coffee grounds read as well? We could do that too,”

That nearly made you cave. You’d been wanting to get your coffee grounds read ever since you had seen the advert on the bulletin board. Whenever you’d brought it up to Alhaitham, he’d simply dismiss it as being an improper science, that the results were merely made up for the sake of creating a profit from gullible individuals. He must’ve sensed how stubborn you’d be if he was willing to pull out that card. 

Still, you remained passive, tapping the hands that hung loosely around your waist— signaling that you weren’t completely ignoring him. 

You heard him let out a long-winded sigh, but before you could even make your move you felt his grip around your torso tighten, and his face being smooshed into your cheek. Letting out a startled laugh, you attempted to push the man away, to no avail.

“Haitham!” You whined, though the effect was rendered moot by the giggles that followed.

Removing his face from yours, you felt his hands gently twist you around, allowing you to see the ghost of a smile light up his features. Calloused hands found their way to your face, pinching the fatty skin of your cheeks affectionately. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” he stated, his eyes lighting up at your mirth. 

You frowned, an inquisitive look on your face. “Enough to get our fortunes read?”

He hummed in agreement, kissing your cheek to suppress the urge to tell you that he was the one who had mentioned the idea in the first place.

“Enough to buy me that pudding?”

“I’ll make it here if they’ve sold out,” He promised, pressing another kiss to the other cheek.

“Enough to put on some sunscreen to protect your beautiful face?”

You felt Alhaitham’s wandering kisses pause, a hesitant pause filling the air. It was your turn to pinch his cheek, tugging the skin enough to make him look back at you.

“Haitham,” You pouted, soothing over the reddening skin with your palm.

Alhaitham, normally, had no qualms about turning someone down. If there was something that he didn’t like, he would be sure to avoid it at all costs, whether it be foods, people, jobs, or anything in between. However, if there was one exception to his “zero-tolerance” attitude, it would be you.

So reluctantly, Alhaitham nodded his head, his hair tickling your skin. Smiling, you moved to press a chaste kiss on the top of his head.

“Great! Hold still—let me go and grab it!”

Wrestling your way out of his grasp, you grabbed the tin of sunscreen, gathering a generous amount to apply to Alhaitham’s face. Turning back around, you grinned at him before immediately slathering the sunscreen onto his face. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, cringing at the way the sunscreen felt against his skin. 

“I know, I’m almost done,” You emphasized your point by rubbing the last of the sunscreen away, ensuring that there was no further white showing.

Once you were finished, you squished his cheeks between your palms, kissing his puckered lips.

“See? All done,” You cooed, smoothing out the frown lines from Alhaitham’s face, “You did so well my baby,”

He hummed, leaning into your touch. The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's company. With Alhaitham’s new position within the Akademiya, the time that you two were able to spend with one another had lessened significantly. Although he did his best to stick to his nine-to-five schedule, your conflicting work obligations left you with little downtime, much to his dismay. So any time that the two of you could bask in each other’s presence was a worthwhile endeavor, he supposed. 

Even if it meant going to a crowded café in the middle of the summer heat.

“Well,” Alhaitham started, reluctantly pulling away from your loving hold, offering his arm to you instead, “Shall we get going? I’d hate for the café to get too busy,”

Rolling your eyes, you took his arm, unable to hide the growing smile that found its way to your lips.

“Lead the way, my dear.”

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 1 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader length: 2.5k of 30k words | 1st of 9 chapters summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you. tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

You knew Camie had done something terrible before you’d even opened the note.

It lay there on her pillow, addressed to her mother in her horrendously girlish hand, a riot of wild loops and curlicues.

Camie had gotten into enough trouble over the years that you recognized when she was trying to obscure her misdeeds under aggressively elaborate flourishes of ink. And with the volume of ink on this letterface—coupled with the fact that it was the letter in her bed, rather than the girl herself–it could only mean the message within was going to be her biggest misdeed of them all.

Your first instinct was to hide it–stuff the letter away up the chimney flue, where it would hopefully crisp and burn, never to be read by human eyes. Specifically by Mrs. Utsushimi, who was prone to even more exaggerated fits than Camie. If she never read it, she’d never be able to spiral into the dramatics you were certain would follow on its heels.

In your years of service to the Utsushimi family, you’d learned only too well how her theatrics usually ended with a mess of new things for you to mend–spilled tea to soak out of the table linens, runny eye powder to wash out of her handkerchiefs, dress collars in need of restitching after she tore them, clutching dramatically at her breast.

Camie was usually the root cause of the high dudgeon, though she was usually here to make amends to you afterwards. But now, you knew she’d never return permanently to this house. You knew the letter meant the end.

Things would be even worse, though, were Mrs. Utsushimi to be given no explanation for Camie’s disappearance, left to her own devices and flights of fancy. There would most certainly be talk of rogues and pirates and highwaymen, and you’d be sent to fetch the police.

So instead of squirreling the letter away, you carried it down to the morning room, your stomach churning.

Mrs. Utsushimi was predictably overwrought, her eyes growing wide as she snatched it from you.

“Kidnapped!” She sobbed as she opened it over the breakfast table, reaching her conclusion before the letter had even fully come unfolded. “Camie’s been kidnapped!”

You carefully suppressed the eyeroll you might have once given Camie over her mother’s head.

Camie was missing, but she had most certainly not been kidnapped.

As a maid, you didn’t have much background in the kidnapping business, but you rather thought that any criminal worth their salt might have targeted a family of more means than the Utsushimis—who were well to-do, but untitled, and living off a stipend that did not extend itself much beyond the daily upkeep of three women.

Any criminal progressing through the house would be able to tell that the majority of the Utsushimi’s belongings were concentrated in their sitting room, so as to appear well-off to any visitors, but the rest of the house was starkly barren of almost any decor. The Utsushimis’ jewels sparkled prettily by candlelight but a close inspection would reveal them to be paste, and the retention of only two household staff–yourself and a cook—would have made it clear to even the most inexperienced criminal that the Utsushimis had no funds with which to ransom a kidnapped daughter.

The note itself was also a giveaway. You doubted a kidnapper with any dignity would dare address the letter face with: Sweet Mumsy, please don’t be angry.

Finally, there was the fact that Camie had been in love with Lord Inasa Yoarashi since they were children to contend with. A note left in the dead of night announcing their elopement and subsequent honeymoon on the continent–to give Mrs. Utsushimi time to calm down, you suspected–was not entirely unexpected.

“She’s not been kidnapped, mama,” the eldest Miss Utsushimi said–Caroline, the only voice of reason in the Utsushimi household. “She’s with Lord Inasa, and you know he will take good care of her.”

“Take good care of her?” Mrs. Utsushimi echoed in disbelief. “What good can come of this? She’ll be ruined!”

Caroline shook her head. “The town will talk, but you know Camie, and you know Lord Inasa. They will be good for one another. And Lord Inasa has the means to ignore the ton–she’ll want for nothing.”

“Then what of us?” Mrs. Utsushimi cried. “What of your prospects? Already in your second season. A younger sister, wedded before you, and a history of scandal in the family? Caroline, you know very well this means no proper gentleman will have you now!”

Caroline paused, as Mrs. Utsushimi buried another sob in her handkerchief. Even you shifted awkwardly in the doorway, feeling slightly guilty.

A younger sister married off before the eldest would suggest something was wrong with Caroline, that she somehow might be damaged goods. And an elopement in the family would cast suspicions on Caroline’s own purity.

You didn’t like Caroline as much as you liked Camie, who had always been so free with her affections, even to the servants. You and Camie were of an age, and she’d taken to you immediately when you’d first come to the family as a specky teenager, desperately seeking a job to support your family. Camie had taught you to read, taught you card games, snuck you refreshments out of family dinners, and unabashedly gifted you many of her own ribbons and trinkets as she outgrew them, much to the dour disapproval of her mother.

Caroline had been somewhat more aloof, comparatively, clearly more aware of your status as a servant. But she had always been polite nevertheless, and she had definitively looked the other way whenever she caught you and Camie at your hijinks.

You did not think that Caroline, standoffish as she was, deserved the fate Camie had all but sealed for her. You counted Camie your closest friend, but even you could see this had been thoughtless of her.

You gathered yourself together, making an awkward noise like the clearing of your throat to get their attention.

“That’s only if they are seen,” you said, trying to sound reassuring, and also like it was at all your place to interject. “And as Camie’s not had her first season yet no one will recognize her.” You hoped you sounded confident in this.

Privately, you thought Camie was as unsubtle as six baboons riding a tiger dressed in petticoats playing the trombone–and the combination of Camie and Lord Yoarashi would be even worse. But no one knew Camie on sight, considering this season was meant to be her debut into society, and as long as she didn’t talk, the Utsushimi family might, just might, be saved from scandal.

“And what are people to think if she doesn’t debut this year?” Mrs. Utsuhshimi demanded, swiping a scone off the breakfast tray and buttering it angrily. “I’ve already announced the Monomas’ ball this week as her coming out. People will start talking if she’s not present.”

“She’s taken ill,” you supplied. “Perhaps she’s been sent to stay with a cousin while she recovers.”

“The ball is two nights from now, and I’ve still got an order in for her dresses, due to arrive this afternoon. I’ve made no mention of their being unnecessary until now.” Mrs. Utsushimi looked put out. “People will talk if the illness is so sudden. And what if they think Caroline a vector of the same disease?”

It went unsaid that Caroline could ill afford to be avoided. Especially not now that her efforts would need to be redoubled, to be married before news broke of Camie’s own nuptials.

You wracked your brain for a solution as the two women breakfasted. Illness was a no, pretending as though Camie hadn’t actually been meant to debut was a no…“Perhaps…if Camie did debut…..” you said, thinking aloud.

If they could feign an illness just long enough to recall her, and send her to subsequent events as though she were not already married…

Mrs. Utsuhimi’s sniffles seized in her nose. “If she—how would she debut now, girl?”

But it was probably far too late to recall Camie, and you could only guess where she’d be. Even if you could dispatch someone to collect her, you thought she would probably never agree to participate in the Season, far too put out and having been denied her adventure.

You’d have to think of something else.

“No, it’s silly–” you started to say, but Mrs. Utsushimi cut you off with a dramatic gasp.

“That’s it!” She cried. “No one knows Camie—and if we can get Caroline married off before the plot is revealed…”

You stared at her. What plot? Hadn’t you only now discussed how excuses might damage Caroline’s reputation? And what married off? Where were you supposed to find her a bridegroom at this hour?

But Mrs. Utsushimi quickly clarified the depths of her insanity. “It’ll have to be you. Anyone else might be talked into betraying her.”

You blinked. What would have to be you? That sounded almost like—

“We’ll have to alter her dresses–well, you will–and Caroline will have to imbue you with some etiquette, of course. I don’t suppose Camie left any of her jewels, did she? If not, you might borrow a few of my pastes–”

You dropped the silverware you’d been rearranging, the fork plopping into the butter with a flat little spat noise.

“You mean—impersonate Camie?” You blurted, mind suddenly reeling. “At—in public?”

“Well we certainly don’t need it here,” Mrs. Utsushimi said shortly, waving her handkerchief impatiently.

You took comfort in the expression on Caroline’s face, a horrified gape of her pert mouth that mirrored your own shock. “Mama,” she started, but her mother waved her off.

“Mrs. Utsushimi—ma’am—I couldn’t. That’s not—”

“Hush, hush,” Mrs. Utsushimi said, looking impatient. “It’s just until Caroline finds a husband. We’ll be uncovered, eventually, but Caroline will already be matched by then, and her virtues proven upon consummation.”

Caroline looked uncomfortable.

You too, could not think of a woman who might like to start her married life off on such a deception. Your heart twinged at her predicament.

But of course this entire scheme could not play out this way. You definitely could not pretend to be Camie. Not only because it was an idea so insane it beggared belief, not only because you were sure to be the least convincing gentlewoman of all time, but also because there was no benefit to you.

If the scheme was revealed, which it would be as soon as Camie returned from the continent and was decidedly a different person than the girl who’d flitted in and out of parties all season—you would be caught out. Propriety would obviously demand you be dismissed from the Utsushimi household, no matter how complicit the Utsushimis themselves were in the scandal, and you’d never work again in this town.

And besides taking care of yourself, you had parents in the countryside who needed looking after, and your wage, meager as it was, was essential to their upkeep.

“I can’t do it,” you said firmly, catching Mrs. Utsushimi’s eye. “I am sorry.”

Mrs. Utsushimi’s face pulled into annoyance, flapping her handkerchief dramatically at you. “Of course you can, I’ve just laid out the plan—”

“I mean that I have to look out for myself, ma’am. When I’m uncovered, you’d have to dismiss me, and I won’t have a job to go to next. I need the money for my family.”

Mrs. Utsushimi hummed, taking a thoughtful sip of her tea. Her eyes narrowed at you over the rim of the cup, and her voice emerged slightly muffled. “You mean you’d do it, otherwise? If your wages are taken care of?”

You blinked. “I—well, possibly—I’d need to consider…”

Mrs. Utsuhimi hummed again, twisting her handkerchief in her fingers. She was quiet for a long moment, staring at you with an intensity that had you squirming uncomfortably.

Finally, she made a pronouncement.

“While you are in between jobs, I will pay you a stipend of your regular wages,” she said. “I will also secure additional reimbursement from Camie’s new husband. Lord Inasa would think nothing of giving it.” This you knew to be true, from the little you’d interacted with him. More money than sense, that man. But generous, too, and fairly good-natured.

“And if you are unable to find work,” Mrs. Utsushimi continued, “I will ensure that Camie will secure you a place in her new household.”

Your heart warmed.

That sounded true enough. Already embroiled in scandal herself, and your friend besides, Camie would think nothing of giving you a place in her home. And given the judgmental nature of the ton, it was improbable she would be entertaining from her social set for quite some time, meaning you would likely never have the uncomfortable experience of waiting on someone you’d once duped.

It sounded foolproof—well, as foolproof as a plan that was foolish by its very nature could be.

It was utterly hare-brained…but if it meant money, and a place in Camie’s new home…

There was just the matter of you being convincing enough to pass as a member of Musutafu’s gentry.

You’d spent enough time with Camie to affect some of her genteel mannerisms, but there would be all manner of things you’d only heard tell of that you’d have to familiarize yourself with. How dance cards worked, the steps of dances themselves, affecting an educated conversation, which silverware pieces to use at the table—all of it sounded overwhelming.

With only a few days to prepare, you didn’t know if you could do it.

As if she sensed your hesitation, Caroline leaned forward at the other end of the table. She looked as though she still had doubts–you certainly did–-but you sensed a bit of resolve in her, as well. There was only so much a lady of her station could do–and she did need to marry well.

This was for her benefit.

“I’ll…help you,” she said, giving a tight, but genuine smile. “If we…if we really are doing this. We can start lessons after breakfast, and I will show you everything I know.”

You nodded, and Mrs. Utsushimi gave an artful wave of her handkerchief.

“Then it’s settled,” she pronounced, in tones that sounded terribly final. “For the next few months, you will be Camie.”

Your stomach turned over with a sudden bout of nerves. It meant risking everything about your current situation–and it would mean a new life in just a few months.

“A hundred pounds, I think, would be suitable?” Mrs. Utsushimi said, as though she could read your hesitation.

A hundred pounds. Enough to keep your parents comfortably for a few years, if you were smart about it. Enough that it was worth the potential risks.

And that settled it.

You would do it. You would be Camie. You would deceive the ton—all the lords, ladies, dukes and duchesses.

Or you would risk it all trying.

[auraxins]

2:17am

iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader

notes/warnings: childhood friends, mutual pining, phonecalls, hurt/comfort, fluff ending

wc: 1.5k

ok ive not written for hq in years much less for iwa so he might be a little teensy bit ooc but its ok bc this is for a friend <3

It’s far too early to be awake. 

And yet, the trill of your phone has forced you from sleep, sending you fumbling to grab the offending little rectangle to shut it off. 

As you go to swipe the notification away, pouting so intensely at the sheer audacity of this perpetrator to your night’s rest, you catch a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Iwaizumi Hajime. 

Why he'd be calling you right now is beyond you, and yet a tugging sensation in your chest drives you like you're on autopilot. With a steadily quickening pulse, anger tepid beneath your veins and prepared to boil, you hold the phone up to your ear.

"What do you want?"

"I just-" his voice falters, breath catching in his throat and he chokes it down before he can continue- "I needed to hear your voice." 

It’s not the answer you were hoping for. Though, if you’re honest with yourself, you aren’t entirely sure what you were hoping for from him in the first place. The sudden overwhelming urge to run grips your chest and encapsulates you, and you swallow thickly as you speak up. 

"Well, I hope this was good enough for you. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" He panics, voice rising in pitch slightly as he desperately tries to keep you there. “Don’t go yet, please.”

You sigh, pull the phone back, and check the little clock in the corner of your screen. It would be daytime for him right now, he should surely be busy with practice. 

"Why should I stay up to talk with you?" 

A momentary pause, like he has to think about the right way to phrase what he wants to say next, and when the words finally reach you, disembodied and hundreds of miles away, you aren’t prepared for them. 

"I miss you." 

The air is thick and stagnant as his words sink in. Your heart leaps, foolish hope taking root and blossoming. Your mind, however, knows better, prunes the new buds before you can even discern whether they are rotten. After spending as long as you had becoming accustomed to his absence, you couldn’t just cave all because he’d finally remembered to call you. 

"You left me,” you say.

"I know," he replies. 

This time the silence lasts longer, but as it stretches on it starts to feel more bearable. Like the initial scorching dip of a toe into a freshly drawn bath, the type to make you recoil in surprise before you can sink another, and another still, until finally you dare to let your whole body settle beneath the surface. 

At the end of the day, you’ve missed him too.

"My day was interesting," you offer quietly. There’s no response, but the occasional exhale you catch assures you he’s listening. "You remember Hanamaki?” An affirmative sound prompts you to continue. “Well, he asked me out." 

"What did you say?" 

"I said: 'that would be nice'," you paraphrase, "'but I don’t think I want to be dating anyone right now'." 

Hajime hums, but you can’t quite tell if it’s a pleased noise or not. Your pulse spikes in your chest at the implications of such a hum, what it could possibly mean, and to negate the risk of allowing yourself to fall into some convoluted train of overthinking, you maneuver the conversation away. 

“So, how was your day?”

You've sat upright since the call began, propped your pillows up behind your back to support your posture. The sheets are tucked around your legs, pulled up past your knees, and there’s something almost innocent and childlike to the way that you cradle the phone against your cheek. 

It’s like you’re teenagers again, awake on opposite ends of a telephone line until ungodly hours of the night because you can’t stand the idea of parting with one another even to rest. You recall the times one of you had fallen asleep before the other, but still couldn’t bring yourselves to end the call, so you’d keep the phone against your pillow and try to sleep to the steady sound of the other’s breathing. 

And, if you close your eyes, you can almost feel Hajime's warmth beside you. 

His voice has a way of soothing your very soul, thick and warm like a hearty bowl of soup on a crisp autumn afternoon. You could cup your hands around it and drink it in, relish in the way it slides heavy down your throat and settles comfortably into your stomach. 

Your best friend, your other half, Hajime used to be around constantly. Like an old jacket, worn at the sleeves, fraying around the buttons, that still fits you like the first day you got it.

And then he moved to California, leaving his home and everything he’d known behind in pursuit of his dreams. Being anything but happy and supportive of him would have been selfish, would have been wrong. So, you resigned yourself as simply one more thing that he had to abandon. 

It had taken weeks to get used to the lack of his presence, and weeks longer still to begin to enjoy the solitude that was left in his wake. His absence had left a void in your chest, one you’d slowly toiled to patch over with a career and a social life. 

“Hajime,” you speak up as soon as he quiets, “why did you never call me until tonight? I tried to call you when you first left, but you’d never pick up.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“There never had to be anything to say. We used to sit on the phone for hours and say nothing at all.”

“When we were kids,” he reasons, “and we could see each other whenever we wanted to.”

Leaning forward, as though you could project your complaints to someone with the power to fix them, you huff. “Why did we have to let growing up stop us from spending time together?”

A quiet hum, an unsatisfied exhale. “That’s just what happens.”

“I don’t like it,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.

By now, though you can hardly see how such little conversation has led to it, a handful of hours have passed. It’ll be morning soon, and you’re already contemplating how easy it will be to just take the day off sick. 

This night has been draining, pleasant in ways, but tiresome, and the interruption to your sleeping pattern is enough that you’ll be thrown off for the rest of the day because of it. You’ll take your time to recalibrate, to take care of yourself. 

(Most importantly, to try and forget that this call ever happened, because you know that it’s doomed to end in more disappointment. Besides, who knows when the next time you’ll hear from him after this will be?)

As the soundless minutes tick on and your mind works itself into a stupor, you can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You’ll sleep whether you want to or not, you suppose. And some spiteful part of your subconscious wonders if perhaps Hajime deserves it, you falling asleep on him like this, abruptly putting an end to this time together. 

Sleeping is such a tempting concept, especially with how comfortable your sheets are as you sink back down into them. 

Maybe you can just let your eyes drift shut for a few moments…

“I’ve got a confession to make,” Hajime speaks, pulling you back from the sleepy daze you had fallen into. “I’m back in Japan at the moment, but it’s only for a week.”

“You’re home?” you ask hazily, the prospect not quite parsing through the slumbered fog that has settled. 

“Almost,” he says.

At five o’clock in the morning, as a new day starts to break, there’s a knock at your front door. You trudge across your house to reach it, to peer through the peephole. When your vision is blocked off by a familiar, comforting largeness, it is as though you’ve had a surge of caffeine injected directly into your bloodstream. 

Anticipation and nervousness wracks through you, ignites your bones and sparks a tremor in your hand as you reach to open the door. 

Hajime is as handsome as the day he left you. 

There are no words shared as you observe one another in a tender moment’s silence. So clearly still dressed in the outfit he’d worn at the airport, Hajime greets you in no more than a thick hoodie and tracksuit bottoms. 

And yet, he’s never been prettier. 

(And if he’d had the sense to speak, as silently dumbfounded by the sight of you as you are with him, he’d tell you that you are beautiful. Even facing him as you are, the remnant sight of a wrestling match with your bedsheets, he would tell you that you are the most radiant thing he has ever laid eyes on.)

He crosses the threshold and invites you into his embrace. It’s a bold move, especially from him, but his broad chest is so warm and enticing as his thick arms encircle you and hold you close, and you can hardly find the room to complain as emotion drains from you like the rainwater pooling in the gutter above your heads.  

“Now I’m home.”

[delishlydelightfuldividers]

Green & Pink Flower Divider Pack: Two

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