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April 26 2015

Hello! You guys might’ve noticed I’ve posted less frequently on here. Sorry about that.

I’ve decided to move tumblrs. I’ll be keeping this one up since there’s a lot of fanfiction on it and I know it’s beloved, but I won’t be posting anything new here! I’ll be relocating to fuwaesthetic and posting there instead.

Follow if you’d like! This is officially just going to be a nifty little archive. Thank you so much for supporting me the past years though. It means a lot!

This is your author, signing out ♥

March 13 2015

cold compress

capturesexual:

commission drabble 3/3, for maxvelli. tales of xillia, ludger —> jude, everyone is alive and happy au (it ends up being college au). ludger’s in love with jude, and jude doesn’t know.

here on ao3 as well; thank you for the patronage! i hope this works for you!

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relief is stronger than coffee

capturesexual:

commission drabble 2/3, for maxvelli. tales of xillia, jude/ludger, spaceship au. jude and ludger are officers of a ship that comes under fire from enemy rebels; the ship escapes, and while jude isn’t part of the medical staff he ends up assisting with the effort… and finds out ludger’s one of the casualties.

here on ao3 as well; thank you for your patronage! i hope you like it!

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they still missed curfew

capturesexual:

commission drabble 1/3, for maxvelli. tales of xillia, jude/ludger, hogwarts au: slytherin ludger goes to find ravenclaw jude, they talk for a bit, and it ends up in cute confessions. ludger’s surprised, of course, because hadn’t jude liked at least three other people simultaneously…?

here on ao3 as well; thank you for the patronage! i hope this works for you!

Read More

March 02 2015

Bella's Spring Break Extravaganza!

capturesexual:

Hey all! I mentioned not too long ago in various places that I was going to take drabble commission across my spring break. Here I am to lay on a few more details and remind you!

My spring break’s going from March 9th until March 15th officially, however I don’t have classes on Friday—so that means technically, I’m going to start taking them March 6th until March 15th. They’ll all be priced at 5 USD for 500 words—this is meant to be a drabble commission spree after all! Since I have a set word limit this time, I’m going to be asking that you pay in advance; after we finalize your commission(s), I’ll send you an invoice; the only thing you need to worry about is having the money to actually pay for your commission(s).

I’m only really going to put myself out for Tales of Xillia, Tales of Xillia 2, and Pokémon (gameverse) right now, but if you want something else I’m sure we can talk it out! If you’re interested, shoot me an email at swordingly@gmail.com and let’s get started. There’s only a couple of things I ask that you put in your email:

  • Name and/or tumblr URL: This is so I know who you are! If you include your tumblr URL, I’ll be able to tag your fic under it as well if you decide to choose public for the next part.
  • Paypal email: The email you use for your Paypal so I know where to send the invoice to!
  • Public or private?: Public = posting it online, in canon/character/ship tags, etc; it’ll probably be on both Tumblr and AO3! Private = I’ll put it in a GDoc or turn it into a PDF an email it to you; this means I won’t post it anywhere.
  • Canon you’re requesting from: Like it says!
  • Characters/Pairings you’re requesting: On the tin! For the record, I’ll write more or less any characters and pairings; there’s exceptions but they’re very far and few in number.
  • Prompt: Be as detailed as you’d like with this!
  • How many drabbles you want: This is primarily for people who want more than one drabble for the prompt they put above. I’m putting a limit of 5 on this.

If you want to request multiple drabbles with different prompts, you can still do that! You’ll just need to mention the canon, characters/ships, and what you’d like me to write for it alongside your first request. I’m also putting a limit of 5 on this.

You can find examples of my writing right here on my personal blog, over here at my AO3, and here at my fanfiction side blog. Even if you’re not interested in commissioning me, I’d appreciate reblogs and signal boosts! Thanks so much, everyone!

January 10 2015

Fic Rec Friday #1: Mod's Pick

Next week kicks off your requests, but for now, here are some recommendations from me!

  • [Spoilers, post Chapter 15]
    Title: the last seven days in the life of Ludger Kresnik
    Author: NightsMistress
    Fandom: Tales of Xillia 2
    Characters: Ludger Kresnik as the focus, pretty much the rest of the party and others as secondary
    Summary: Even after the soul bridge opens, there is still time for Ludger’s friends to help him find absolution.

    Why: This is one of the most amazing character studies I’ve read in a long time; I always felt like the end of the game was rushed, and that the character stories - and the bonus chapter - were oddly placed being at a time where you’re specifically told, in-canon, that you have a limited amount of time that the soul bridge’ll be open and you have to do what you need to do before it closes. It conflicts game mechanics-wise, but things rarely fit perfectly anyway — anyway, this fic really helps smooth that over and gives a lot more depth to the interactions and to Ludger himself. This story’s highly underrated in the grand scheme of things, where I think it should sincerely be given a read through at least once by the fandom!
  • [Spoilers, post Chapter 12; canon divergence]
    Title: The Most Honest Truth
    Author: Gargant
    Fandom: Tales of Xillia 2
    Characters: Rideaux, Julius, Ivar; others as secondary and tertiary
    Summary: Divergence catalysts—a tragic but well-documented side effect of Chromatus use. But what if there had been some means to undo the damage done? What if someone had tried to find a way?

    Why: I never, ever get to read Rideaux fic, so snooping around and finding this was a treat. Add the fact it’s well-written and has an interesting concept behind it to boot, and you’ve got a story that’s definitely one of my favorites for this fandom so far. It’s still on-going though, so if that’s a turn off, you might want to wait on reading it.
  • [P4/999 AU]
    Title: -0-
    Author: lady_mab
    Fandom: Persona 4
    Characters: The entire main cast, more or less
    Summary: Trapped in locked rooms in an remote warehouse, nine people have to race against the clock in order to unravel the labyrinth filled with strange puzzles. Along the way they are faced with the threat of demons and text messages from someone calling himself “Zero”. Each person has a code name based on a tarot cart, but what happens when two with the name Fool appear? Which one is to be trusted: the bumbling stranger with a disarming smile, or the level-headed young man with a mysterious air? And who is this “Mother” that leaves loving messages promising their deaths? When faced with life or death, the human condition shows it’s true face. It’s up to these nine strangers to learn to either trust each other or die trying.

    Why: I followed this back when it was on Livejournal. That’s a while. An incredibly long but incredibly worthwhile read, it sets the cast of Persona 4 into an AU based on the game 999/Zero Escape. This story unfolds through tenuous alliances and rising tensions brought on by a never-ending spiral of amazing twists! (I’ll keep my why for this one short because the summary is so long.)
  • [No spoilers]
    Title: things that i miss whenever we’re apart
    Author: cixth
    Fandom: Haikyuu!!
    Characters: Kenma Kozume, Tetsurou Kuroo
    Summary: Kenma reaches into the box and pulls out a tiny, squirming bundle of messy, black fur. He’s gonna kill Kenma.

    Why: A short, poignant piece of growing up and growing apart. Both Kenma and Kuroo are incredibly on-point, and it was one of the first fics I read — and still remains one of my favorites!
  • [No spoilers]
    Title: Wonderwall
    Author: WashiEaglewings
    Fandom: Pokémon (Yellow version)
    Characters: OCs
    Summary: If it had been anyone other than True Fargone, Casey the Pikachu would have said “no” to a return to life as a battler. He’s been content as a part-time therapy Pokémon and babysitter; as far as he’s concerned, battles mean the chance of death and defeat, two things that he’s had more than his fair share of. But because it’s True, Casey agrees to accompany her as his Starter on one condition: he only has to stay until she’s caught a team strong enough to support her. Of course, things never end up according to plan.

    Why: One of the truly most amazing Nuzlockes I’ve ever read. It’s also still ongoing, but the sheer length it’s already at should probably make up for that. Washi also updates pretty frequently, and her writing is worth every moment you spend on it. True Fargone and Casey are probably my favorite characters I’ve read about, and the rest of True’s team is just as fleshed out and amazing as they are. I’m gonna say this like I said for the rest of them: Wonderwall is something you really aren’t going to regret spending hours reading, especially with the way it pulls at your heart!

January 08 2015

some old fanfiction i abandoned, but decided i liked it enough to bring back. narukami/yosuke, two drabbles, 833 words total.

1.

“Let’s move in together,” he suggests, then throws his hands up a little once he realizes how the words could be taken. “Not like we’re together or whatever, but just as like, you know, best friends and it’ll save money and it’s just really really economically sound or whatever —”

“Sure.”


Yosuke Hanamura regrets the day he even thought about letting his partner get an apartment with him. For one, the neighbors had a lot of weird looks for them. Second, there were model robots around the whole places – some parts not included. Third?

There were cats.

They came slowly. At first, it was only one. Yosuke had told him they couldn’t keep pets, and for the most part his partner had agreed and said he only brought it in to keep it from the rain. But then the number of cats doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled. He doesn’t know what comes after quadrupled, but whatever the hell it is, it happened.

His living room is covered in cat hair and cat toys and cat food and cat litter and hell, yes, it’s covered in cats. They line the couch and the coffee table, curl around the corners and pull at the socks (his socks) that they’ve evidently pulled from the laundry he’s been putting off for the last two weeks. He shuts the door loud enough for the cats to all look up simultaneously, but not enough to call it a slam. His partner peeks out from the kitchen and smiles giving him a wave.

“Welcome back, Yos—”

“Don’t you welcome back me! I told you we’re not allowed to have pets! Do you want to get our asses kicked out?”

His partner has the gall to look hurt at his outburst. Yosuke grits his teeth and tries again.

“Listen, cats are cute and all and yeah I don’t mind if you take a few in for a little while, but this many? Seriously?”

“I didn’t bring them in. They just came through the window.”

“That’s because you keep feeding them, dude!”

2.

There were three things wrong with the macaroni and cheese sitting in their refrigerator at the moment.

One: It was growing hair. Two: It smelled terrible. Three: There was a whole dish of it left.

They hadn’t shopped in a little over a month due to cut wages – no amount of griping could get them raised again, thanks to the precarious position the manager was in already – and it showed in their nearly-empty shelves and pantries. They had finally dove into the fridge, looking for something substantial, and had found leftovers from a potluck Chie threw for Yukiko’s birthday. It had been great, and they had taken home a lot of food (which then dwindled week by week until the present), yet the casserole dish of macaroni hadn’t been touched once.

Yosuke’s excuse was that he was lactose intolerant. He himself, however, had no such excuse to keep him from eating the macaroni. It just had never crossed his mind.

Until now.

With shaking hands he drew it out of the frosty cage, setting it upon the counter and holding back the urge to throw up as he removed its glass cover. Yosuke hit the floor, dry heaving, and backed up once he could manage to stand. The macaroni sat silent, eager to be tasted.

He swallowed back fear – hadn’t he faced worse than this? hadn’t he beaten a goddess of death and lived to tell the tale? on that note, hadn’t he eaten worse than this? – and took up his weapon of choice: a spoon. The silver was thrust into the gooey mess, making his stomach lurch with how easily it passed through the greenish membrane, and he made sure to keep a straight face as he lifted the terrifying beast up and into his mouth.

He chewed once, twice, then swallowed. And swallowed again, once bile rose up in rebellion. Yosuke watched from the other side of the kitchen, disgust and amazement mixing in equal parts on his face. He raised his spoon and waved a few times to show Yosuke he was fine, and cracked a smile when Yosuke shook his head and closed his eyes.

Dude. I totally thought you were gonna kick the bucket there. Your face got all pale when you put it in and everything.”

Well. Maybe he hadn’t been as straight-faced as he had hoped.

“You okay?”

He nodded once and set aside the spoon, glancing at the macaroni before him. Aside from the taste, the smell, the look of it, and how it felt going down…

“It isn’t too bad. It isn’t toxic, at least.”

The look on Yosuke’s face was priceless; he immediately wished he had a camera so he could remember it. He settled with studying it thoroughly and chuckling when Yosuke shook his head again.

“I just want to say how much I admire your courage, man. I seriously couldn’t do it.”

“You might have to. There’s nothing else to eat.”

January 07 2015

Fic Rec Friday!

Back in the day, I used to run a Unova-centric fanblog where I’d post, reblog, etc fanart and fanfiction. Nowadays, it’s fallen to the wayside and actually I’m pretty sure I deleted it? Oops.

Anyway, I used to do something called “Fic Rec Fridays” where I’d take requests for pairings, characters, or general canons and then I’d go through sites to find fanfiction to recommend them. Of course, it being a Unova-only blog, I only did Unova ships…

But since this is a general fic blog, I’m going to do it for any canon listed on my page here or that you’ve seen me writing about! The first Fic Rec Friday will start this week, and it’ll be for my own favorite fanfictions; the weeks following that can be directed by you, the followers! If I don’t get any requests for fanfiction recommendations, I’ll probably end up doing another round of my personal favorites… which is fine; I have a lot of them.

They’ll all be archived under the tag #fic rec fridays, as well as this page! So please, send in your requests so I can get to them next week! If you have a fanfiction to recommend as well, I’ll be taking them then, too!

January 04 2015

arte practice, 639 words.

”You’ll never master it if you keep this up,” Milla scolds him; Ludger groans in response, peeking open his eyes, and stares at the hand offered to him.  He takes it when her look goes from ‘expectant’ to ‘angry’ and makes a small sound when she pulls him up. He collects his swords, knocked away from their last try, and turns to find her resuming her position. When he doesn’t immediately do the same, the hand holding her sword drops to her side and her other rests on her hip.

"Giving up already?"

"Can we take a break?"

She worries her lip - she always does this when she’s thinking, lately, and he’s sure she’s picked it up from Leia despite her best efforts not to get too friendly with everyone - and nods. Her hand coasts through her hair while he sighs in relief and heads over, offering his arm. She stares at it, a crease in her brow, and Ludger gives her the most cheerful smile he can muster when she looks to him in response.

She doesn’t take his arm and he doesn’t feel half as offended as he thinks he would be, if it were anyone but her. They return to the inn and up the stairs, passing by curious looks and cheerful greetings, and Milla stretches out on the bed she usually shares with Elle while Ludger looks through their supplies for ingredients. Fifteen minutes later, he’s at home in the inn’s kitchen; the chefs had been suspicious about his queries to use it, but had quickly grown used to his presence. In fact, he’d dare to say they were grateful.

Milla’s asleep when he returns. The usual irritation on her face isn’t there — it’s replaced with a somewhat peaceful look, though when she jerks sharply he can tell she’s not having a particularly restful nap. Ludger sets down the twin bowls of soup quietly and sits on the edge of the bed — he’s not sure if he should wake her or just leave her be. Both options give him an uneasy feeling, but he reaches over and shakes her shoulder anyway.

"Milla —"

She jerks away, off the bed and onto the ground with an angry thump. She stares at him, terrified, and he’s sure he has to look almost identical. The look fades from everything but her mouth and her eyes, and she stands up without taking the hand he stretches over the other edge of the bed.

"I’m fine," she huffs. She brushes off her clothes idly and glares at him - they’re like searing knifes he swears - when he doesn’t immediately retract his hand. "I said I was fine, all right?! I’m — it’s — I’m fine," she repeats, her voice edging off into quiet, and he buries his retort deep in his chest with a nod.

Dinner is quiet punctured by slurps. When he gives her an irritated look, she only raises her chopsticks and informs him that it’s a sign that someone’s enjoying a meal. He grins at that, not being able to help himself, and Milla blushes. (She tries her best to not slurp after that, which just makes his grin grow.)

They’re back outside behind the inn when it gets dark; the area’s lit up enough by balls Milla’s hung up in the air, and when he voices his concern about her mana she merely shakes her head and draws her sword.

"It’ll be fine." She pauses, and he can just make out an embarrassed flush red enough to match her eyes. "Stop worrying about me and start worrying on getting this arte right, got it?"

"I can’t help it," he replies, and realizes he shouldn’t have said so to a woman known to get angrily embarrassed over the slightest show of genuine niceness while she’s wielding a sword very, very expertly.

December 31 2014

wakemeupshipping, 164 words.

Hoenn is hot. Sapphire’s at home in short sleeves and shorter shorts, stretched out in the sun, but Yellow’s sweltering under the summer sun. Even her straw hat isn’t helping keep her cool, and with a sigh she takes it off and sets to rolling up her sleeves instead. She doesn’t notice Sapphire watching her until she’s reaching down to do the same thing to her leggings and jerks back up in surprise, fingers still curled.

Sapphire laughs when Yellow tells her about her problem - that it’s too hot here - and drags her back to the (nice, air-conditioned) Birch household. They spend half an hour trying on different clothes, all a better fit for climate, before Yellow settles on one and Sapphire changes back into the ones she’d been wearing before. Two minutes later - when they’re back outside, and Yellow’s still disgruntled by the humid air - Sapphire pours ice down her shirt and bolts up a tree when Yellow tries to return the favor.

December 27 2014

ludomilla, nsfw. um. read here too for, well, easier reading. 574 words.

The only thing she takes comfort in is the fact he’s just as inexperienced as she is. Everything else makes her stomach turn in anticipation, from the way he ghosts his fingers up her thigh and over her skirt, her sides, careful not to touch her breasts (even though he’s touched more risque places at this point and she’s not going to slap him for brushing her chest) and to her cheek. They heat at his touch, fire on fire, and Ludger laughs.

In any other circumstance, she’d snap at him, but she kisses him instead, determinedly pressing her lips to his and shivering when his tongue slides along her bottom lip. She opens her mouth and sighs, shifting on his lap; her hand drags down his chest without remorse, the heel of her palm pressing hard against the tent in his pants, and it’s his turn to pull away with a crimson face.

"You all right?" she asks. He nods, chest jumping in surprise when she leans forward again and kisses him. Her fingers slip twice unbuckling his belt and three times getting his pants open, and by the time she’s rubbing the clothed tip of his cock (there’s a spot already wet and she focuses on it, thumb firm, because if she concentrates on anything else she’ll probably give up and run) her name’s spilling from his lips and into the nape of her neck. His arms are tight around her waist, hands gripping her hips harder the faster she rubs him, until she moves her hand and replaces it with the heat between her legs. He clumsily bucks up against her, back still curled and the vertebrae easy to count in one two three four five as she runs her other hand down them.

He comes easy after that, and she starts laughing. His face is burning into the side of her neck, hard to distinguish from her own heat, and he presses a firm kiss to her jaw and gives her the most kicked puppy look she’s ever seen out of him.

"You’re cute," she murmurs, brushing their noses together, and her eyes shoot open when his finger slips into her underwear and curls deep inside her. Her breath hitches, her hands grip the back of his neck, and Ludger presses her against the wall as he gently figures out just what makes her tick. It’s terrible - in a good way - it makes her roll her hips down and gets a low groan from the back of Ludger’s throat humming nicely against her collarbone. She does it again, biting her tongue on the soft sounds whimpering out between her teeth, and feels everything tighten and go out of her. Everything’s still, frozen, her blood pounding hard in her temples and Ludger’s labored breathing in her ear; she presses back against the wall, feels the pocked texture dig into her shoulder, and stares at him.

She can see her open mouthed reflection in his eyes, so she closes her lips with a lick and forces herself to exhale through her nose. Ludger leans closer, lips pressed to hers like he’s kissing a cut to make the pain go away, and when he draws back it’s only by a hair.

"You’re cute," he mimics her, tone for tone; his lips brush against hers on every consonant, a laugh bubbling out at the end and spilling across the upturned edges of her mouth.

December 26 2014

ludomilla, 30 days challenge. cross-posted. day 9: hanging out with friends. 794 words.

side a // milla

Hanging out with the women of their group always spells trouble. Milla crosses her arms as they talk, only half-listening to the conversation, and fixes them with a pointed stare when she hears her name - and Ludger’s come up at the same time. Muzét’s the first one to notice, laughing softly at her expression, and she arcs behind her to lay her hands on her shoulders. Milla’s half disgruntled, half happy about the fact this dimension’s Muzét doesn’t hate her.

"You like Ludger, don’t you?” Never mind. This dimension’s Muzét might hate her. Milla twists around, frowning, and Muzét laughs; she just slides her hands lower until she’s hugging her (holding her in place), until Milla stops struggling and purses her lips in a pout instead. “Don’t be so shy, Milla! Come on, come on. Tell us all about your adorable crush on him.”

"It doesn’t exist, for one." She’s proud at how haughty she manages to sound. "For two, what would ever give you the idea I like him or any of you for that matter, even the tiniest bit?”

"You’re a lot more open around him," Elize puts in, a thoughtful air to her tone. Leia nods fervently, leaning forward with her fists pressed into her thighs.

"That’s right! You smile more, you laugh more, you blush more —"

"I don’t blush around him! I don’t smile either, and I definitely don’t laugh!"

"But you do,” Leia stresses, and Elize nods. Milla feels Muzét do the same against the top of her head and feels like tearing her hair out. She definitely, most definitely didn’t — especially not around him, not around the person who lied to her, who destroyed everything she had known.

(Even if she hadn’t been happy, she had been home.)

"I don’t!" she says, again, and watches Elize share a look with Leia. They look pitying, almost, and it makes her denials catch in her throat and makes her want to run. Just run, get as far away from all of this as possible. She doesn’t move - her legs feel like they’re tied down with rocks, and even shifting her feet is a chore - and she doesn’t do anything but feel her heart sink further and further into her stomach as the conversation moves away from the topic and Muzét gently combs her fingers through her hair.

-

—-

-

side b // ludger

Hanging out with the men of their group never usually spelt trouble, and yet tonight - with drinks on Alvin and the promise of fun - is nothing but it. Ludger’s ears feel like they must be on fire with how hot they are as the party none-too-softly discusses the women of their group, and he splutters into his drink and Alvin turns to him and asks him what he thinks about them.

"They’re—" he coughs, thumping his chest; Jude looks amused as he pats his back, and Ludger clears his throat. Right. "They’re all very strong."

"That’s not what we’re talking about Ludger! We’re talking about looks, personality. You know. In a if we didn’t have a bunch of other stuff to do, who would we date way?”

Ludger shakes his head, sipping his drink with a smile despite his unease. Jude looks strangely tense on the topic - he thinks about how it must be because of the prime dimension’s Milla - and Rowen chortles softly, fingers resting against the table. Gaius, for his part, keeps his mouth set in a thin line, even though his eyebrows raise curiously.

"I think they’d look mad if they knew we were talking about them like this," Ludger replies, getting a sigh from Alvin and a small chuckle from Jude, and when he gets told to just answer the damn question — he gets cut off.

"I believe he has his eyes set on the other Milla."

It’s enough to make him jerk to face Gaius, who sips his beer as if he hadn’t just said anything, and shakes his head. Maybe a bit too fast, because the older half of their group chuckles and he feels his cheeks heat up. Him and Milla — him liking Milla — well, maybe some, but there’s no way he could — not with Jude around, not with her, because of what he’s done —

It’s much easier to dismiss the idea than entertain it, at least in the company he’s keeping.

"Oh, no no no. Not at all." He waves his hand with the motion, much to the amused - and, on Jude’s end, somewhat tightened - looks of his peers. "Even if I did, she wouldn’t feel the same way. I don’t think she ever…"

He sits back, staring at the amber color of his beer, and pushes his hair back from his forehead. “I don’t think she ever could.”

December 20 2014

yakulev, 258 words.

Left to his own devices, Haiba Lev is nothing more than an overgrown kid. Morisuke leans back against the park’s fence, hot chocolate cozied in his mittens, and watches him tumble with Inuoka through the snow. He lifts the cup to his lips just as Lev ducks a snowball, trips, and skids across the ground towards him.

His immediate reaction is to kneel down and check on the first year; his second is to sigh and rock on his heels when Lev brushes him off and sits up, shaking snow off of his jacket. He mops cold gloves across his skin, getting snow off of his reddening skin as fast as he puts it on, and Morisuke leans over to help him out. A few quick brushes of his hand cleans him up nicely, and he lets his touch linger with a growing frown. Cold, but of course it would be, but there’s a sudden heat pooling beneath the frosted skin.

He grips his cup with both hands when Lev finally snaps out of whatever sullen slump he’d been in — for being babied, Morisuke would assume, and guesses the flush working its way across his nose and to the tips of his ears is from the cold. Lev won’t meet his eyes when he stands up, staring up at the sky instead until the flush dissipates and the only thing left is the normal pinkness of chilly skin.

Strange, Morisuke thinks, but sips his hot chocolate and watches Lev scurry off to reunite with his fellow first years.

December 15 2014

a very christmas fanfiction, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say.” 547 words.

It was quiet at the Claus home; a busy day, full of making toys and making them perfect, always laid the elves to gentle rest and both of their bosses to silence. Even the spoon stirring the soup was quiet in its movement — Mrs. Claus had no desire to make a sound. With careful precision she ladled two portions into each wide bowl, smiling to herself when not a drop dared to spill. Her journey to the table was as clear as the Northern night, and she’d dare to say that they wouldn’t be needing Rudolph this Christmas Eve.

That was good. The old stag deserved some rest. He’d been working himself weak in the knees preparing younger reindeer to fly. Not one of them had ever shown the promise of a glowing nose, not like him, so there was no way he could retire — not yet. She felt sorry for him, but there was nothing that could be done. Until her husband could be convinced to add a pair of strong headlights to his sleigh - or even to the pair of reindeer selected to lead the flight.

But he was an obstinate old man, and he had always been so. Things are better this way, Jessica, he reassured her. If we added lights, then the reindeer would scare, and we wouldn’t have a very easy Christmas at all.

A creak snaps the quiet and Mrs. Claus turns to see Santa heading down the stairs out of the corner of her eye. She feels less guilty about breaking the quiet now that it’s been broken, and she sets the bowls down with a sigh.

"Kris," she begins, and he raises one fat hand. She closes her mouth and watches his ginger journey to the table, fingers straightening the edges of her apron. He sits down with a sigh, then motions with his hand again for her to continue. "Kris, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say."

"If it’s about the headlights again, I don’t want to hear it." Santa leans back in his chair, frowning beneath his bushy beard, and Mrs. Claus tsks in the back of her throat.

Train the reindeer to be comfortable with them if you must, dear, but Rudolph has been at this far too long. There’s only so much the magic of the North Pole can do for the poor boy. He’s taking more breaks, his antlers break easier, and worst of all, his eyesight’s going bad. He needs a light almost as much as you do on the foggiest days.”

Santa shakes his head, but his eyebrows press together. They always do when he’s seriously considering her words, and Mrs. Claus sees her chance.

"Please, Kris. I’m sure the rest of the reindeer would agree."

"We’ll try it out and see how quickly they take to them. If it can’t be done before the weekend, we’ll give it up and keep wishing for another glowing nose to light us when we need it."

Mrs. Claus smiles, settling down beside her husband; the soup is hot on her lips and she hums happily at the taste — and at her win. Reindeer aren’t quite as cowardly as they used to be, especially with elves cartwheeling around with their smartphones and their light-up sweaters.

ludomilla, “i do stupid shit and you’re my doctor” au. 963 words.

Professional stuntman, he insists, but she just sighs and sets her hands on her hips. She fixes him with that stare - accusing, knowing, the same one his high school teacher gave him when he lied and said Rollo had tore up his math homework and that’s why he didn’t have it - and, just so many years ago, Ludger feels his stomach drop. She doesn’t look at him for long; she turns her attention back to checking him out, fingers skirting over his bared skin and the bandages Leia had thoughtfully applied after the shoot. He barely suppresses a shiver when her touch alights across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, gently feeling for anything she might’ve missed on her cursory glance of his head.

"How much did you get paid this time?" She pulls away when she asks it, standing to cross the room and filch out few things from drawers. He eyes the needle and thread she sets on the counter beside her warily and swallows back whatever pleas he was going to start muttering about not getting stitches this time.

(She’d only admonish him, saying he should be used to it by now.)

"About 250… I think."

Her look is incredulous, and it’s almost enough to make him laugh, but that feeling subsides when it twists angrily and she slams the drawer shut with the heel of her palm. He raises his hands when she comes closer, needle gripped tightly in her fingers, and sees his wide-eyed look reflected in her narrowed gaze.

"Please calm down before you do anything."

"You’re getting gypped. You know that, right? You know you’re getting paid," she slams her items on the tray beside her, and it threatens to topple but doesn’t, "a hell of a lot less than what you deserve for putting up with all their stupid, stupid stunts, right?"

He didn’t, actually, but he swallows the admission and watches the floor. She jerks his chin up, her frown growing, and all of sudden it just — vanishes. Her shoulders slump from their angry tightened form, the creases in the middle of her forehead relax, and she leans against the table he’s sitting on. She’s close enough he can smell her perfume (honey, but not too overpowering; professional) and he jumps when she gives a shaky sigh and looks at him.

"Sorry. Not my place." He shrugs his shoulders at her words and she purses her lips, then works on gently pulling some of the bandages off of his arms and hands. The ones on his left shoulder come next - she gives a small ah-ha at finding exactly what she thought she’d have to stitch up beneath them - and he sits as still as he can as she applies medicine and gauze. He jerks a little when the needle presses into sensitive skin and she gives him what he’s pretty sure is an apologetic look, but he’s never seen her look sorry in the year he’s had her as his doctor.

It’s a little weird.

"There you are, Mr. Kresnik," she sighs; her hand’s smoothing over bandages and skin again, making sure everything’s tight but not too tight, and he feels her tap his shoulder. “Don’t get this wet and don’t put too much stress on it. We wouldn’t want your stitches to come loose before their time, do we?”

"No ma’am," he replies, and her cheekbones dust with pink out of the corner of his eye. He bites his lip, trying not to laugh, and slides off the table when she steps away to get her clipboard. He pulls on his shirt again, wincing at the motion, and she presents him with a bill.

He blanches at the amount and she snorts, tapping her pen on her clipboard.

"Just what the hell were you expecting? Return visits for the same reason are just going to get pricier.” There’s an edge of amusement to her words and he looks at her, frowning a little. She covers her mouth, glancing away, then glances back to him. The edges of her eyes crinkle a little. “Don’t worry. Your insurance can cover it. Though,” and the crinkles disappear, skin smoothing out so perfectly it’s almost as if they hadn’t existed in the first place, “I feel like I should be getting paid more for having to deal with you.”

"I could make it up to you," he says, and she jerks her gaze to him from when it’d been landing on the pages she’s thumbing at. It feels like the first full sentence he’s spoken in hours, with the way his throat is dry and tight, and he rubs the back of his neck. His thumb ghosts over bandages. "I mean — if you’d like, we could go out to eat or something, or I could make you something. I’m a pretty good cook."

"The offer’s nice," she replies after a quiet moment, her fingers smoothing the bottom of her clipboard and returning to rubbing the sides of it, "but we’ve got a professional relationship, Mr. Kresnik, of doctor and sorely frequent patient. I can’t —" she hesitates, then huffs. "I can’t date a patient, even if it’s just one dinner,” she stresses the end of it when he opens his mouth to object.

He closes it and nods. It’s easy to understand, even if he feels his heart sink a little at the rejection, and she gives him a rare smile. It jumps back up in his chest and threatens to escape through his throat.

"Just don’t come back too soon, all right? I do have patients beside you.”

"Don’t miss me too much then," he jokes, and her face turns scarlet before it’s out of sight and he’s out of the door, laughing softly.

ludomilla, “you’re an actor in a haunted house and i accidentally punched you in the face when you scared me” au. 282 words.

”It’s not like I meant to hurt you,” she grumbles; he winces instead of answering (the force behind her punch suggested otherwise) as she firmly pats the alcohol-damp cotton ball to the split skin on his temple. That wasn’t from her punch - his bleeding lip and feeling like he’s going to have to go to the dentist to make sure she hadn’t loosened any teeth are - but he’d knocked into some sturdy props and…

"You shouldn’t go into haunted houses if you’re so jumpy." She stares at him, pressing the cotton harder and harder until he finally asks for her to please stop that and she moves her hand away. Her eyebrows knit, a frown settling on her lips while she picks apart the ball with nimble fingers, and she sets the used item beside her and picks up gauze instead.

"I’m not jumpy. Usually." She sounds like she’s trying to convince not only him but herself, so Ludger only rolls his eyes a little and makes sure she doesn’t see it. She carefully presses the gauze to his temple (where had that gentleness been five minutes ago?) and holds it there until she can wrap bandages around it. He reaches up to touch it, feeling his lips push to one side involuntarily when he skirts a sensitive spot, and his attacker-turned-aider sits back on her hands with a sigh. “It’s been a bad night, all right? I don’t even know where my friends - the ones who went in with me - went.”

The word sounds like poison on her lips, and he sets his elbows on his knees, wondering if you can really be friends with people you don’t get along with.

genfic, 155 words.

The first time it happens - and “it” is a lot of things, but it’s not the thing - Kuroo stares at his hand for a long time, mouth open but as quiet as Kenma on his worst days. Kenma watches him, then goes to get the volleyball bouncing away from their makeshift net. When he returns, the ball clasped in his arms like some sort of treasure, Kuroo’s looking at him like he’s made of gold.

"That," he breathes at last, "was awesome."

Kenma stares at him, frowning, and wonders how. All Kuro did was hit a ball he threw — and when he tells him this, Kuroo’s smile dips and his eyebrows press together.

"That’s what makes it so great, Kenma." But his heart isn’t in it; the enthusiasm that’d been filling him to the brim is gone, replaced by something else, and Kenma sets his chin on the volleyball when he realizes it’s his fault.

ludomilla, “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” 307 words. reposted from my other tumblr.

”This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she grumbles, elbows brushing against his as she helps set the table. He wonders what she means — and figures that maybe, Elle’s just a tad too enthusiastic about pointing out to his brothers the super weird and pretty woman he’s brought home this time. Or maybe it’s how she’s been more or less helping him the whole time, from cooking to keeping an eye out for nosy family members wanting to bother them (either by actually bothering them or by pointing out the mood - or lack there of - they’ve got). “It’s a lot noisier than I expected.

And nosier,” she adds; he follows her gaze as it flicks up to the group hovering by the doorway, and they disperse nearly instantly. Only Elle lingers before her father’s pulling her away with promises of letting her sit in his lap while they watch television.

"They’re just curious." He steps back, making sure every seat has a plate, and offers Milla a smile; she purses her lips and sighs, straightening up.

"I’m guessing you don’t bring too many girls around in that case, Mr. Kresnik."

"She called him by his last name,” someone stage whispers outside of the room and Ludger laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. Milla brushes her hands together, fingers curling slightly; her nails are painted today, a stark contrast to plainness in the last three months he’s known her, and he wonders if it’s because she was supposed to come over today or if she had just decided to do it.

He decides to focus back on her face before she notices he’s looking anywhere else instead of wondering further, and Milla sets a hand against her waist as she replies, “I can see why you wouldn’t, if they act like this every time it happens.”

yakulev, 147 words.

”It’s nothing,” Yaku replies, wiping his eyes. Lev frowns, tilting his head, and Yaku looks up at him wryly. “I’m just happy with how much better you’ve gotten.”

”And you’re crying about it?! That’s mean, Yaku-san.” He huffs - it’s nothing to be that happy about, not like Kenma becoming more social or Taketora talking to a girl without stuttering more than ten times - and Yaku laughs, raising his hand. Lev reflexively jerks his arm away when the smaller hand goes for it, but Yaku gives chase and pats just above his elbow. Lev covers the area when Yaku’s hand drops to his side; he curls his fingers against his skin and wonders why it tingles.

"I can’t help it. I’ll be graduating at the end of the year, and I want to make sure your height’s not the only thing you can give to next year’s team."

ludomilla, sports au. 823 words. reposted from my other tumblr.

”…and the match ends with a stunning break from Maxwell! It’s amazing she could still manage it after being trapped in a twelve-point tiebreaker game by her opponent…”

"Good for her," Milla mutters to the radio beside her. It doesn’t reply to her; it just keeps spinning through its news, and she serves against the wall again. She keeps the rally going as much as she can, swings getting progressively harder the longer the host goes on about the all-too amazing Maxwell, and catches the tennis ball in her hand with a wince instead of slamming it again.

She turns the radio off and sighs, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. Another day, another practice spent listening about her evidently more talented sister over the airwaves. While Maxwell was off being a hotshot, Milla was…

She throws the ball hard against the wall, stomach twisting, and watches it whiz past her; a frightened yelp sounds behind her and she turns, setting her racket against the wall behind her. The young man rubs his stomach as she approaches, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear when she leans over him.

"You okay?"

He nods and she helps him up; he’s just a little taller than her - which makes her smirk - and when he grins at her she feels like she’s back in in middle school, playing her in her first tournament match. Milla returns to her racket, picking it up and inspecting the wrapping on the handle; she’d need to replace it soon. Maybe tonight, since she’d have plenty of downtime —

she feels a tapping on her shoulder and she turns; it’s just the same guy pounded with a ball, and she sighs.

"Can I help you?"

"This is the gymnasium where the basketball team holds their practice, right?"

She runs the list of clubs through her mind quickly and nods, then raises her racket right to the wall clock.

"They’re afternoon hours. Come back around three-thirty and you’ll be right on time." He brow furrows at the information and she purses her lips, resting her racket against her leg. "…if you’ve got class then, I can show you the way to the coach’s office and you can talk to her about joining now."

"I’d appreciate it, Miss…?"

"Milla." She kneels down and zips her racket back up, collecting her practice balls with her other. They’re easy to balance all in one hand, and she tries not to smile at his impressed look. "Come on, she should still be in her office."

It’s a quick walk; Milla knocks on the door twice and peeks in, motions her companion to go, and heads back down to change and grab her radio from the court. She meets him again while he’s coming out of the coach’s office, looking a little happier than previously, and Milla shifts her racket’s bag on her shoulder. “Got everything in order?”

He nods and she nods back, starting down the hall. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

"Wait, hold on— " The young man grabs her wrist and she pivots on her heel, any hint of friendliness draining out from the soles of her feet. His eyes widen in alarm and he lets go of her, lips quirking a little. "Uh, sorry. I’m just… new here, so I was hoping you’d be able to show me the way to some of my classes?"

She holds out her hand and he stares at it for a moment before digging through his bag and handing over his messily written schedule. She glances at the name scrawled in the top right of the notebook - Ludger, huh? - and motions him to follow he. She heads straight to the student center, picking up a map from the desk and sitting down at one of the open tables. Ludger idles by her as she marks off his classes, a sharpie cap clenched between her teeth; he looks back over when she slams the cap back on her pen and pushes the map over.

"There. You’re gonna have to figure out the best way to get to each of them on your own though. And don’t sweat being late for the first few days — you’re a transfer-in, right? They’ll understand."

"How’d you know I was?"

"We’ve got the same maths and I haven’t seen you in it before." She’d definitely know anyone with hair like his; her eyes flick up and he touches his bangs with a smile bordering on sheepish. Milla turns her wrist up to check the time, glancing at Ludger while he folds up the map and tucks it into his bag. "If you don’t wanna wait an hour to get lunch, you oughta get to the café. The lines really suck if you go any later."

His look switches from pleasantly-happy-about-the-world to panicked-about-something-or-other, and she returns the wave he gives her over his shoulder as he sprints out of the center.

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