#and I always fund it funny how when my friend says ‘little sister’

[myname-isnia]

My friend and I had history club today so my friend’s little sister stayed with the after school program until we were done, and before we started my friend was trying to get her to settle down and eat her lunch which eventually evolved into her just saying her name over and over again so she’d look up from the minecraft video she was watching like:

“Kitty. Kit. Katie. Katyusha. Katya”

And Katya kept ignoring her so eventually my friend got annoyed and pulled out the

“YEKATERINA DMITRIEVNA”

It worked. In fact so well that even I was ready to go eat those soggy noodles despite my name and patronymic being nothing close to Yekaterina Dmitrievna

[julieverne]

"I can take her," Maura blurted. Already robbed once of a child she'd wanted to have, she couldn't see another slip through her fingers. Tasha had charmed her from the moment they'd spoken, despite the circumstances. Jane looked at her warily.

"You're single, and the hours you keep - I checked. Neither of us are eligible."

"Angela."

Jane's face grew pensive. She'd forgotten, somehow, that Angela lived with Maura and might be seen as an extra caretaker for Tasha.

"Let me ask for her. Please. She has such a brilliant mind; I cannot let it go to waste."

--

"Beacon Hill, hm? Six bedrooms and a guest house."

"She'd receive a trust fund, of course, once she reached majority." Maura wrung her hands nervously. "And my sister can help out too."

The social worker's eyes didn't even bother to flick to Jane; it was obvious Maura wasn't referring to her.

"And my grounds have a caretaker, who would be available for Tasha in the event I took a night call. She'd never be alone - unless she wanted to be."

The social worker sighed. She'd seen the cop fight for this kid, and her medical examiner friend plead for her too. She wished she could do something.

"I'm afraid I can't let her go to you. If you were married -"

Maura's hand shot out to cover Jane's, clearly to keep her from an outburst of what Jane had seen men do to their wives and children. Jane obviously calmed as soon as Jane touched her.

"We aren't yet," Maura said smoothly. "I mean, we've been seeing each other for years. She'll be staying with me too, once the hospital releases her. She just keeps her old place across town because she doesn't want people to think she's a gold digger." Maura's hand gripped Jane's, and Jane's eyes narrowed, then relaxed.

"I mean, look at her. And look at me. I'm not in her league."

"We're not playing baseball, we're fostering a child." Maura's brow was perplexed.

"I guess we are, babe," Jane said, her voice only a little sarcastic. "Look, tell me what paperwork we have to do - we're not common law, her family is kind of weird. But we'll get it to you by morning if it'll keep Tasha out of the system."

"Kiss her," the social worker told Jane, watching Maura blush.

"It takes all the fun out of it if it's mandatory," Jane grumbled half-heartedly, but she leaned in, the way she had when Hope and Angela had been watching with bated breath, and this time she didn't veer to the side. With the same affection she'd always shown Maura, she kissed her, sweet and gentle. "Now give us the damn kid," Jane demanded, watching as the social worker smirked and handed over some paperwork. Maura looked it over.

"Get your lawyers on it, babe," Jane said, sliding her hand around Maura's waist.

"You need to go back to bed," Maura said, concerned at how much weight Jane was resting on her, how unsteady she was on her feet. Jane complained, but she closed her eyes when Maura tucked her in.

--

Tasha woke to Maura looking out her hospital room window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked shyly, wiping at her face. She liked the other woman; she wasn't as funny or hard as Jane, but she was intelligent and compassionate.

"I should have asked," Maura said anxiously. "There's a way I can take you - you wouldn't be beholden to me, or reliant on me in any way. You would have somewhere to live, and social services would leave you alone. But you would have to live with me."

Maura's face was pale and drawn, like it worried her. Like she was offering too much.

"You don't have to." Tasha didn't want to say she'd wanted Jane to offer, not Maura. She didn't want Maura to feel like she owed Tasha anything.

"You don't have to, but Jane and I already - I mean, she'll be living there too, for the foreseeable."

"Oh." Tasha thought back to Jane talking about Maura, about how Maura had been so solicitous of Jane, always helping her without Jane having to ask or even noticing sometimes, since Maura was so subtle. About how Jane smiled at Maura like the taste of honey had burst over her tongue. "Oh."

"I mean, it's my house. I live there. But you won't see much of me if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to?"

"Well, you're very independent. And you and Jane get along, and I would just..."

It struck Tasha then that Maura was afraid of being turned down, of being the third wheel in her own relationship if they brought a child into it. Jane had been pregnant; they'd lost their child because of her. And they wanted her to take their child's place, in a way.

"Jane's mother lives with me. Us. She'd love to have another kid around the house. My sister is only a little older than you. You wouldn't have to deal with me."

"But what if I want to?" Tasha asked slowly, realising all that was being offered. "It's your house, isn't it? I had parents, once." Maura nodded, her eyes soft, obviously remembering their phone conversation. Tasha hated it when anyone felt sorry for her, but Maura had been practical on the phone, and it was refreshing to have someone worried that Tasha might not like them, if a little sad. "I had parents. But I never had aunts."

Maura exhaled slowly.

"I could manage that. I'm still getting used to being a big sister. I could never - I don't think I'm the nurturing sort, and Angela will smoother you the second she meets you. But I could fill the role of an aunt for you. You're a responsible, studious young woman, and you have some important exams coming up. I have the resources, but I don't have the time. As long as you understand I'm not trying to replace anyone - on your side or ours - I would very much like it if you stayed with me until either you're no longer legally required to have a guardian or you have another arrangement in place."

It wasn't exactly emotional. It wasn't exactly formal either. But Maura had offered, and she was a doctor and her sister was pre-med, so she would be a fool to turn them down.

She owed them a kid, anyway.

"Yeah. Okay. Just no more anatomically dubious stuffed animals, please."

"Angela won't be happy," Maura said with a wry smile, and Tasha smiled back. "I'm glad."

"Thank you," Tasha whispered. She'd been terrified of a group home, or worse, being fostered by a family for the money or less noble reasons. She felt so vulnerable in that hospital bed, and she relaxed a little, knowing that she still had a future.

Maura didn't try to hug her, but she did rest a hand on her forearm before she left.

--

"Wait, I have to stay in your room?" Jane's eyes were wide and scared.

"It's just for the home visit. I've already put all your things in the other dresser. You can go back to the green room once we've satisfied the social worker. Tasha doesn't know we lied, though, so we might need to figure out if we're going to tell her."

"What about Jack?"

"Oh, he got sick of me waiting around for you to get better. He's back with his ex-wife."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I'm not. Tasha's future is worth more than his ego."

"You didn't lie. You just told them we weren't married."

"But all this paperwork, the domestic partnership, the taxes - my lawyer thinks you're a bad investment, by the way - all of that is a lie."

Jane studiously avoided Maura's eyes.

"Isn't it?" Maura's voice was small and insecure.

"I told you there's no one else I'd trust with my child. Tasha will be both of ours, and if we need to do all this to make sure she has a stable home for a year or two, I can think of worse things than being in a domestic partnership with you."

"Oh, Jane."

Maura's lips were wobbly, like Jane had said something sweet, but she'd just told the truth about their lies. There were worse things than living with Maura and a kid they were keeping off the streets. Hell, Jane practically lived there anyway. And people already thought they were dating. It wasn't like Jane's reputation would suffer any, being linked to Maura.

"We could tell her, but I don't think she'll notice. She's got a lot of exams coming up, and a bullet wound to recover from. Those hurt a lot, from memory."

The social worker came in, and Jane handed over the paperwork, then took Maura's hand.

"She's all yours, ladies. Your clearance checked out, your finances check out, and your house checks out. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Maura said, but she was looking at Jane with shining eyes as she said it.

--

Angela was thrilled. Maura didn't think Angela had ever met a kid she didn't like. Tasha put up with it with a gruff exterior, the same way Jane did, but she held onto Angela when she caught her in a bear (ursa) hug.

"Angela is across the courtyard, and you're upstairs and to the right. My room - our room -" Maura glanced at Angela, who looked at her expectantly. They'd had to tell her, and she'd been thrilled that they even had a chance to foster Tasha. She hadn't even mentioned that they were legally, for all purposes, common-law married. "- is to the left, at the far end of the house. You're welcome to any food, and you can add groceries to the list. I've put a child lock on the television but that's for Jane's brothers, not for you."

Jane snorted, and Maura rolled her eyes.

"I'd like to know where you are if you go anywhere; I am legally responsible for you. If you just want to sleep here and have nothing to do with me, that's okay."

"Maura," Jane chided her.

"I like you," Tasha blurted out. "I mean, not just because you're helping me out. I like talking to you. You're really smart, and you think I'm smart too. I'm not - like - ugh..."

"You said aunt, right?" Jane asked quietly, and Tasha nodded. "We're not trying to be anyone we're not. We just want you to be safe."

Maura looked at Jane as though she'd said something profound, and Jane smiled wistfully at her. Tasha was sure she'd missed something, but she'd already missed that they were a couple when it was so obvious now, with hindsight.

"I told you I was adopted. I have my own issues with parenthood, so if I'm lacking as a guardian, please let me know. I do work long hours, but Angela has agreed to stay with you in the house if I'm out late."

"I'll be fine. I've had worse."

Maura nodded as though she was unconvinced and Tasha had a sudden rush of anger for whoever had made this frankly lovable woman feel so unloved that she couldn't accept that someone might actually like her.

"We'll let you get settled, then," Maura said. "I'm going back to work tomorrow, but Jane is yet to be cleared. She'll be home for another week. Two, if she knows what's good for her."

"You are," Jane said, scrunching up her face.

"I'm what?"

"Good for me," Jane said, and Maura blushed and Tasha excused herself. She hadn't quite thought about what it meant to have two gay foster mums.

--

"You're hogging the blanket," Maura complained. Jane groaned and rolled herself tighter. "You know, when we get divorced, you signed a pre-nup, and that blanket is mine."

Jane rolled over to face Maura, relinquishing her hold on the blanket.

"Divorced?"

"I mean, once Tasha's aged out of the system. You'll find someone, and I'll..." Maura trailed off, her jaw moving as she wet her lips, unable to finish her sentence.

"I'm not getting any younger. And I could do worse. I got me a real trophy wife."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that's years away, Maura. If we meet someone before then, we'll figure it out. Together. And if we don't, then... I wouldn't have asked Casey. If he'd been here and Tasha had needed two parents to take her in. I didn't want to raise our baby with him. I asked you to help me parent, both times. And maybe that's because I know I can trust you with what's most important to me. And what's most important to me is you. So if you do want a divorce I won't contest it. But even if it's only common-law and just for CPS, I kinda like being married to you."

Maura looked like she was going to cry. Jane unwrapped the blanket from around herself and spread it over both of them.

"I don't have to pretend. Not with you."

"You lost the baby," Maura said finally.

"We lost - I lost our -"

"It's not your fault," Maura told Jane sternly. "I wish you'd waited for backup, but I can't bear to think about Tasha on one of my tables because you couldn't help her."

"I was thinking of it as Casey's. That's why I went in. But when I woke, and I knew... I'd been thinking of it as yours. As ours. And I wanted it then, so fiercely." Jane felt her face, wet with tears, then Maura enveloping her like she'd been waiting for Jane to fall apart all week. She held Jane and rocked her and hushed her and told her it wasn't her fault and that it was okay and that she loved her.

And that only made Jane sob more. She'd put not only her life on the line, but her potential child's as well. All because Maura had found someone, someone who had left her because of Jane. Jane just kept ruining Maura's life and stealing her blankets and making her adopt kids and...

... and Maura was crying too. And that was something Jane loved and hated in equal measures; she loved comforting Maura, but she hated Maura to be upset in any way.

"I'm so selfish," Maura whimpered, her face wet, trying to pull away. Jane held her closer, wiped her face with shaking fingers.

"You've taken in three strays, Maura. That's generous by any standards."

"It was your baby. It was your loss. But I feel it so strongly too."

"That's not selfish. That's empathetic." Jane gave Maura a shaky grin. "We can share the blanket if we sleep a little closer. It's not my fault your bed is enormous."

"I was hoping for an orgy," Maura said, completely deadpan.

"Well, we're one short. You'll have to make do with me." Jane pulled Maura close, adjusting their bodies, her aching bones and organs revelling in the warmth of the other woman.

--

Tasha saw the way they looked at each other when they thought she wasn't looking. She made excuses to dash off to the library, to give them some space, but the sorrow between them remained unbroken. Social services came every few months and seemed assured she'd been fed and bathed (the indignity!), and Cailin was a worthy tutor and Hope hovered in the background, offering suggestions and telling (literal) war stories. All in all, it was a good life, much better than the one she'd been living, always hiding, always scared and hungry, never quite clean.

Jane and her brothers were watching a game with Angela, and Maura joined Tasha in the kitchen.

"You don't mind, do you? They come over and ignore you."

"Everyone has their own hyperfixation. It's nice to see them get along." They watched Frankie and Tommy slap at each other. "For them, anyway." Maura looked at Tasha and smiled like she liked what she saw. "I'm glad you get along with Cailin and Hope. Constance is looking forward to taking you to France after you graduate, but I have to be honest. I'm going to miss you."

"It's only for a few weeks. And you have Jane."

There it was again, that look on Maura's face, like she was a kid outside a candy store. She was looking at Jane, who felt her gaze and turned to smile equally wistfully at Maura.

"I'm still going to miss you. I thought I was offering because you and Jane had a connection, because I'd been adopted and I couldn't let you go into the system. But the truth is I like you. I never thought I'd have children, but I'm so honoured that you let me have you, for however little time you needed me."

Maura had been more high strung than Jane. She liked things neat and clean, but so did Tasha. Jane and Cailin were the fun aunts, and Angela was a great grandma. Frankie and Tommy were a lot of fun.

But Maura had known when to step in and when to back away. She never took up too much space, never asked for too much, never took too much. And she gave and gave and gave, but never in a way that made Tasha feel indebted, even though she knew how much she must be costing them.

"That's too bad, because it turns out I kind of love you," Tasha mumbled quickly, trying not to be heard. She stepped forward, and Maura's arms opened for her, wrapped around her, keeping her safe. Maura pressed a kiss against her hair.

"I love you too," Maura whispered, her heartbeat high and flighty. Tasha had never even heard her say it to Jane. "And you are always welcome here."

And Tasha believed her, because Maura didn't lie.

--

"It's weird having the place to ourselves, isn't it?" Jane asked, putting the dishes away. "Feels kinda empty."

"I froze some eggs," Maura said suggestively, and Jane dropped an entire handful of knives.

"I just meant I miss Tasha. Jeeeez."

"Well, she'll be of age when she comes back from South America with Arthur. Then she's off to Indonesia with Hope for a MEND clinic, then she's off to Harvard. She might not want to live with us, once she's not obliged to legally."

"And then we wouldn't have any reason to live together either," Jane said, wiping down the counter.

"You can get your divorce, Jane. I know I'm not easy to live with, but it was worth it to make sure Tasha was safe. Thank you."

"You're not a burden - you're not something I just put up with for her sake. You know that, right?"

Maura shrugged and Jane put the knives she'd picked up back in the dishwasher for another cycle. They'd kissed that once, for the social worker. They slept together, lived together, worked together. They raised a kid together.

"I think Tasha turned out okay, so if you want to try again, you've got those eggs. And you've got me, if you want someone to raise them with."

"I love you, Jane, but I need someone who loves me."

"I do," Jane said seriously. She closed the distance between them easily, pushing Maura back against the counter. "I always have. Why do you think I moved in? Why do you think I common-law married you? Do you still doubt me, after all this time?"

"You never said - you never told me."

"I had to tell me first. And really listen, not just deny or try to tell myself that this is how women feel about their friends. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"I don't," Maura said, nearly crying. Jane leaned down a little and kissed her. Maura froze and Jane pulled away, scared she'd ruined everything.

"I love you the way a woman in a common-law marriage loves the other woman in her common-law marriage. The way a woman loves a woman. The way a woman feels about her wife. I didn't ask you the first time, it just kind of happened. But if you did want to marry me, not just common law marry me, I'd really like you to. I'd like to do it properly."

"Oh."

"Um. Sorry."

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Yeah. Yes. I'll marry you. We already live together. We're already married."

"It's convenient, huh?"

"It's convenient because... Jane. God. All this time we've been sleeping in the same bed and..."

"Do you want to go christen it?" Jane said, her mouth suddenly dry. Maura nodded emphatically.

"But it's too far away, so let's christen the couch instead."

--

The social worker smiled as Maura handed over the last of the paperwork.

"I'm glad you got to adopt her formally as an adult. It's not often I see one of these fake marriages work out in favour of the kid, but she's absolutely thriving. Harvard!"

"Wait, fake marriage?"

"Oh, you two were so full of shit. But she needed someone to take a chance on her, and if you two were game I wasn't going to bust you."

"But we're... we're married. Proper married."

The social worker gave them both a big wink, then looked down at Jane's swelling belly. "Congratulations," she said. "I know you're going to be great parents."

And then she was gone, leaving a bemused Jane and Maura in her wake.

[jackiewilsonsims]

Dear Sister Lilian, 

I realise it has been nearly a year since I have last wrote to you, and for that I apologise. I hope we will be able to correspond more in the future.  I will attempt to tell you all that has happened in my life since my last letter.

I still struggle to accept that it has been four years since Robert passed. I think of him every day, but strangely it isn’t always a sad thought. I find myself thinking more and more of the happy days we shared - do you remember the picnic we all had before your little Kathy was born? Losing a husband is something one can never truly overcome, but I feel that I have come so far in these years. It is not all easier, however. I am forever grateful for the funds his family has given us, but keeping accounts is difficult and I still struggle after all these years.

In other news about myself, I have taken up stitching again. I was doing well at first until I discovered that holding it any farther than my nose made it terribly blurry. I have had to buy spectacles! I think they look rather funny. 

The children are well. Elisabeth is as creative as you remember her, and has lately taken to making stories with her dolls that are long enough to fill a novel. The stories move far too fast for me to really understand, the only elements I have retained are that there is some sort of money lender that tracks people down and that at least three characters have been sent to Australia. I cannot say I know where she gets all these ideas. When she is not trying to challenge Dickens, she likes to wander outdoors. I am still so happy that Robert chose for us to live in Henford, the country air is very good for little Lissie.

Benjamin has been excelling in his lessons. He spends most of his time studying, with a particular fascination with botany. Each time Lissie goes out he asks her to bring back leaves for him to cut with the little scalpel his teacher gave him. The teachers at the village school say that he is at the top of his class, and I am extraordinarily proud - although I cannot tell any of my friends here as it is bragging. Another thing I must only say to you is that I worry for him. You know he is a sensitive child, and it has only increased. He talks less and less and seems to only be happy when alone with his books. He still comes to me some nights in tears, and I can never find out why. Do you know what I should do? I cannot ask anyone in town as it is too personal of a problem for anyone but family to know of.

How have you and Arthur been faring? Are the children doing well? I eagerly await your reply. I have included a photograph of us I had taken. 

With all my love, 

Emily Hartwood

[emeritus-fuckers]

For the Ministry Role Event:

1. Would you say you're more likely to be a Sibling of Sin or a Ghoul? Why?

I think I am more likely to be a Ghoul than a Sibling of Sin. I love music and am very interested in taking vocal lessons, learning how to play the drums, and learning how to play bass. The aesthetic of the Ghouls has always interested me. The masks are gorgeous, and I love the idea of having different appearances or abilities based on your “element.” On the other hand, being a Sibling of Sin and participating in rituals / ministry magic sounds cool.

2. Which Papa would you prefer to work with? Why? (Sister Imperator is included)

This is a tough one. Papa Emeritus III is my favorite, he seems funny, flirty and a little eccentric without being too overwhelming. On the other hand, Papa Emeritus IV is very friendly and kind of awkward, like me! Between the two of them I would most likely work with III. I would not like to work with Imperator.

3. Are you an introvert, ambivert or an extrovert? Tell us a bit more about it.

I consider myself an ambivert. I like hanging out with my friends, whether it’s irl or online. I also like having my alone time, and enjoy chilling in my room with my cats. I’ve noticed that sometimes hanging out refills my energy, and sometimes being around people drains it a lot.

4. What chore do you like the most/hate the least?

My favorite chore is probably picking up the trash. It’s one of the easiest things to do, although sometimes you find some nasty stuff. After you pick it up you just throw it out, unlike doing the dishes where you gotta clean it and your hands feel blegh. My least favorite chore is cleaning the litterbox. It doesn’t take long, but it stinks and it makes me feel gross.

5. Do you like to travel, or maybe you prefer to stay at home?

If I had the funds, I would travel so much! There are so many cool things to see in this world, but traveling takes time and money. I have time but not money lol. I do like staying at home, but that’s mainly so I can play games and be with my cats.

6. Freebie. You've got five sentences to tell us anything you want about you.

I am a very quiet person at first, but when you actually get to know me I am kinda chaotic! Somehow I always end up being the Mom friend of the group, even though I am a tiny feral goblin. I have ADHD, anxiety, depression, and some undiagnosed disorder causing chronic pain. My first Ghost song was Square Hammer, and Papa III was the first Papa I ever knew, but I became a Ghost fan during Papa IV’s era. I would love to work in the film industry, especially if I got to work with practical SFX. 

This post is part of the 1000 followers Role in ministry event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your role in the ministry is…Special effects manager for Ghost

You work for Papa Emeritus III and then for Papa Emeritus IV.

You do special effects for both the stage shows and music videos. So you have stuff to work on both tour and at the Ministry.

You have a really nice room at the Ministry, Terzo made sure there was also room for your cats there.

You get to travel all over the world and get paid at the same time! If you ever want to work in film inidustry then either Copia or Terzo would happily write you a glowing reference. You also get to help with all the music videos and chapter vidoes. Copia often says "maybe soon you can help with a concert film sì?"

The Ghouls ask for you to get a mask too, Terzo agrees, he knows you've always wanted one and there is a chance the crowd could see you. He gives it to you wrapped up with a purple ribbon around it.

You have your own space on tour where you can hang out, if Swiss sees you missing your cats he'll curl up next to you and purr when you stroke his head. Swiss and the rest of the Ghouls love hanging out with you, you are one of the pack.

Swiss has also declared you an apprentice Ghoul. He enjoys your chaotic energy and your enthusiasm for learning different instruments. So Swiss teaches you stuff about vocals and Mountain also sees you as an apprentice so is teaching you drums. The two of them are very proud of your progress.

~

Written by Nyx

[qcomicsy]

I demand to hear more on your thoughts about harley quinn. For science. No other reason.

First of all you can't demand things here without sending money on my account but since I'm feeling extremely nice today and since is for science...

Buckle up.

Harley funny enough might be one of my first full fledged blorbos from DC universe, in fact I like her so much I just forget to talk about her much here because

Well, because she's always been there.

She's my best friend, she’s my pal. she’s my home-girl, my rotten soldier. she’s my sweet cheese, my good-time girl-yeh.

But you're giving me an open right now anon, you're giving an open and I'll be absolutely havoc about it!

And for full context for people reading this, I got this ask after tagging a post asking “who's the character that makes you act the most pretentious about it” and I cannot express enough I will, in fact get the most utterly unsufferably pretentious as I write this.

So viewers advised.

And without further ado

My thoughts about Harley Quinnzel!

Or might others say...

Shit that people get wrong about Harley Quinn

First of all,

She's not stupid!

And this is not a “she has a PhD motherfucker” post we have a lot of posts already talking about how good of a psychiatrist Harley is and how she's actually smart.

But >this one< isn't one of them, I can make one if y'all want it but not today.

In part because I think is well talk enough people been known, it got to the movie! And in part because… Well honestly? I'm sure every time someone doesn't know how to write Harley or doesn't want to explain her past or her as a full fledged person they just slap a “She has a PhD motherfucker” and doesn't do more than that and this in fact pisses me off.

Harley is much more then “the good psychiatrist Joker turned bad” and I honestly find so fucking exasperating how much DC doesn't use her other habilities. I mean sure she is a good psychiatrist, she's so good that contrary to popular belief Harley was just “the only psychiatrist around that could deal with the joker and got manipulated by him” she was THE psychiatrist leading a full project on reabilitating Gotham Inmates funded by THE Bruce Wayne himself.

She was so good that back in the nighties she wasn't only able to kidnap Lois Lane (Check Batman Superman: World Finest 1997) when Joker was working with Lex Luthor but also literally able to kidnap Batman himself just to please joker. I'm saying that because most of the time people talk about when Harley was under joker command (because that was it a command she was liking or not his henchmen henchwomen and the best he could ever had in his sorry forsaken life) as “poor she, she didn't knew what she was doing” or “see this show how stupid she actually is” and this both statement couldn't be more wrong. I mean sure she was being manipulated, it was a toxic and abusive relationship, but that doesn't undermine any hability or fait she had in this whole time.

Harley is and was one of the best hand to hand combat villains Gotham has, and the fact that she didn't had any actual martial art from a goddamn master or teacher or anything makes this even more insane (pun intended) she's been shown countless of times in Batman stories and solo series as someone that's not only good on a combat but also an extremely good strategist that works on her best under pressure. Which is so hard is absolutely amazing. Not only that in her solo series on the New 52 (one of the few things the New 52 did right) was shown she was a great leader being able to make her own gang in a span of months.

She's not “like batman's little sister” and is absolutely comfortable in her own bisexuality.

I don't know where that came from, but I've seen time to time again people pushing “Harley treats Bruce as an older brother” and “Harley is mean with men” narrative over the internet and honestly? They couldn't be more wrong.

Harley despite her relationship with Bruce being entirely platonic (and for my point of view it should, Bats does deserve to have one female "friendship" that's entirely platonic) that's on Bruce's part. Harley has shown time to time again not only to have been attracted to Bruce but also to actually have (had by now) a pretty enormous crush on him.

I personally dislike this argument not only because it puts Harley as one step down Bruce league (as a person not romantically) but also absolutely erases her bisexuality. The love of Harley's life is a woman, she and Ivy are soulmates I'm not denying that, but the constant internet disdain for her previous relationships and attraction to men does more wrong to her character then right.

Harley isn't the bisexual girl stereotype that when dating a man goes around telling the entire world “wow damn I am dating a man UNFORTUNATELY if I COULD I'd be dating women instead, I AM SO GAY GUYS” or the character who will go on a whole tangent on how men suck (even though a good part of them does). She's the character that is absolutely comfortable in her own sexuality. She likes men, She likes women, she had a couple of healthy relationships with them and it's actually pretty sweet seeing her actually being treated right and recovering from her past abusive relationship and making her own choices and her own history in a much more healthy and growing way.

What Harley dislikes is abusive, controlling and disgusting men, she'll beat the shit out of them if they're lucky and put a bullet in their brain if she's in a bad mood.

If you're writing her as a boy crazy that'll flirt with the first random guy she sees or the girl who’ll say absolutely out of pocket things to humiliate or bully the first men she sees (Harley animated series) I'm sorry but you're writing her wrong.

Back on the “Harley is Batman's little sister thing” as I said before is bullshit, because people love to write Harley as this side-kick crazy 🤪 girl who'll let Bruce exasperated, and that's how they started back on the 1996 animated series but since then their allyship evolved. What people need to understand is that despite not having as much training as pretty much almost every character in Batman's world is, she holds her bullet as any other, she is as capable as any other and she's treated by Bruce Wayne himself as a competent ally or a threat.

They're "friends", they're platonic, Bruce cares for her but they're both adults, and they're both on (almost) the same level of respect. Harley's silly and playing dumb attitude around Bruce is the dynamic she plays to antagonize him, not how actually her character behaves in serious matters or at all and they both know that.

If you don't write her as a competent ally but an outgrown child that Batman is babysitting you're not writing her right either.

Her relationship with Ivy is much deeper than Harley being smitten for her.

I've seen a special after the animated show Harley being written as this kind of girl version of the “wife guy” and it's extremely sweet and endearing and absolutely in a brand of sapphic relationships but unfortunately makes people forget that before Ivy was the love of her life… Ivy was her best friend.

She is her best friend. They ride and die for eachother, Harley is absolutely in love with her and this is not up for argument, but I see so many people focusing on her romantic love for Ivy that they absolutely forget that Ivy and Harley just get each other on a much deeper and committed level. Ivy and Harley compliment each other and they understand each other. It's so exasperating reading people slamming the “miscommunication” trope over and over again when the time that they really shine is when they sit in front of each other and… talk. That's how their relationship got into their romance and that's what makes them so compelling.

Harley and Ivy went through a lot under the manipulation of horrible people, and that makes them being over and over extremely honest and kind with each other over the years and it's not something that should be forgotten just for the sake of drama or obstacles in their way.

She's way more friends with Catwoman than people think.

Cat and Harley might be one of the closest relationships Harley has over the years, they are the friend you call in the middle of the night and the other comes running. Harley is also one of few people (by my knowledge) that accepts and respects Cat as she is and never considered betraying her (contrary to poison ivycofcofcofc we love messy friendships!)

She's not mean without a reason

This is a thing that I rarely see people talking about Harley (as a skill not just a thing they like about her character) and that I didn't notice how I missed as a core aspect of her character until I watched the animated series. And the thing is that...

She's so goddamn likeable

The animated series kind of has this take on Harley of being the skeptical mean character that always has a roast to say just for the sake of comedy. Which isn't horrible we love mean women.

But it's just not her. This is what I call the Deadpoolfication of Harley Quinn, where it's very fucking clear DC want to make a million dollar selling character to compete with Deadpool popularity and since their own knock off knock off (never forget Wade is a satire of Slade, never, never let him live away from it and neither Slade because it's so fucking damned funny) didn't worked they just picked Harley because it's fucking easy. But then they just pick mean jokes Wade would do and Harley would just not?

And I can hear you saying oh Q why the fuck you care so much? Because Harley being likeable is just a fucking core aspect of her character that not only works writing wise but in her fucking skill set!

She's the personality hire of any shit she's in! She makes allies as she goes and it's what puts her way far ahead compared with any DC villain or anti-hero, you can put Harley on a supermarket line and she'll get out there with seven different murder allies and a fucking gang to beat your ass. She's the "I know a guy" friend that'd take you out of a pickle and forget this or write her out of it take several points of her bullshit ways of slaying.

And you know why? Because out of her murderous and careless way she also has the capacity to be irrevocably and undeniably.

Kind.

She's not just quirky.

For the love of god free my girl of the deadpoolfication of Harley Quinn. Harley unfortunately suffers from the same bugs bunnization that Wade has been suffering for years, unfortunately people have goddamn difficulty in writing funny and compelling characters without making them a joke.

They keep writing her as this manic pixie girl, as this character that will make out of pocket things just because she can or because she's crazy and again a slam the same argument I've been making for Wade all over this time. She 's so. Much. More than that.

But to be honest, to write my argument for this post would be much longer than it already is, so it would have to be an entirely different post to compile it.

So I'll end it here. Thank you so much for asking for a chance to talk about her, if I could I would talk about Harley for days, weeks, months.

She's just… she's so special to me.

[ramp-it-up]

Great

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, little sisters, talk of dildos, daddy kink of you squint, grey sweats, heavy petting, manual sex, saliva kink, pussy slapping, female receiving oral sex. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

A/N: This is my entry for @afriendlyblackhottie’s Chick Flick Challenge. I’m getting back on the grind. I hope you like it. If so, let me know!

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The news of Aria’s marriage at 12:34 pm on a Tuesday went the way you thought it would. Tons of people making posts, crying, happy, complaining, but also creating free publicity for her new movie, Superbia. You managed to spin it the way you wanted, and it turned out to be a positive thing, everyone immediately copying her hair and outfit as they ran out of the courtroom in NYC. 

You watched the socials all night while Aria drunk texted you sweet, funny and finally, nsfw selfies of her and Topher. You laughed and posted one cute one of him kissing her on the cheek to her IG.

You finally went to bed at 2 am, looking forward to Aria’s honeymoon tomorrow, because it would give you a break from her. She had been one of many clients you had as a publicist, but as her star rose, so did your earnings from her and she insisted that you be her exclusive media manager and publicity director. You couldn’t say no; she was your baby sister and you’d always loved her to pieces. 

At 3:45 am you heard your phone ding.

You knew better, but you looked at it anyway.

“Shit!” 

You exclaimed and dropped your phone on the bed as you flopped down on it.

Aria wanted you to come with her on her honeymoon.

You asked the question, even thought you knew it was futile.

“Who has a group honeymoon?!?!?!?”

You knew the answer before she sent it. 

“Because I want everyone I love to celebrate our loveeeee!” 

Although you were the serious ambivert, very social when necessary, Aria was a people person. Since she was born there had been a constant party. And the announcement was leading to freebies and perks. She’d just accepted a free trip to Italy three hours after her wedding. She’d invited the whole crew to come with. That meant Topher's brother and best friend Trisha were coming. 

You took a deep breath. You could do this.

“Flight leaves at 10 am. See you then!”

You took another deep breath.

Shit.

You’d be stuck on someone else’s honeymoon with Steve Rogers, your disaster blind date from two nights ago.

The date had been terrible, from you constantly scrolling your phone and him calling you rude, to you calling him a trust fund preppy boy and you two glaring at each other over the table. You were pissed.

Steve, although hot as hell, was an asshole about it, barking at you that he’d grown up in a group home and enlisted in the army as soon as he turned 18 with his best friend, ending up flying combat missions in Afghanistan. Of course, you melted on the inside. But the night was already ruined, so you threw money down on the table and told him you were going home to scroll your phone, which for you meant working.

You told him to have a nice life as if you were never going to talk to him again. 

But then you remembered that he was one of Topher’s private pilots and that’s how Aria knew him. Well, you could be professional and not ever have to deal with him much.

Aria had to stop setting you up on dates, it was getting worse and worse. The next morning, you were going to tell her you were done with her matchmaking when she texted you she was at the courthouse. You made it there to stand beside her as he married Topher, her latest co-star and fling. Well, more than a fling now. 

The blind date was forgotten as the whirlwind occurred. And now, your blind date from the other night, who you’d made an enemy, had your life in his hands for the next 8 hours.

You boarded the jet without incident, and no sign of Steve.  Of course you were the only one on time and sat in the cabin, scrolling your phone, as usual.  You heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Steve coming out of the cockpit. 

Steve Rogers in a pilot’s uniform was… you closed your mouth when you realized that you were staring at him and gaping. He was even more attractive than the other night. You went home and researched him and found that he was telling the truth. You felt terrible and hoped you could talk it out.

The problem was, he looked pissed to see you. 

Great. 

Steve was taken aback when he’d finished in the cabin and opened the door to see you there. You in leggings and a long fashionable hoodie was unexpectedly sexy.  He wanted the hoodie to be his and to peel the leggings off of you, but judging from the look on your face, you wanted to be a million miles away from him. 

“Um. Hello? I thought this flight was for the honeymoon…”

You bristled at him questioning your presence.

“It is. Aria, wanted a group thing?”  

You tilted your head. Steve loved the way you spoke in questions sometimes. And that head tilt. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t know what to say.

Steve started adjusting some dials on the front wall of the plane, probably pre-flight check something or other as he cleared his throat. You thought you heard him say, “Great.”

You shook your head and went back to your phone and when you looked up, he was helping the group enter the cabin, including one of the regular flight attendants, Sharon. and Steve’s co-pilot, James Barnes, boarded and began to help with the bags as well.

Sharon gave you a saccharine smile as she maneuvered between you and Steve. She bent over at the waist toward you, making sure that her ass was all up in his face as she asked you if you needed help with your bags. Steve moved around her and grabbed your bags before she could, taking them toward the front instead of the back, where they usually went.

“The back is filling up, I’ll put your stuff up here with the crew.”

For some reason that flew all over you and you got up to follow your bags, and the asshole who had taken them.

You moved around the partition to the small space between the cabin and the cockpit, as Steve stowed your bags into a deceptively spacious compartment.

“So are you saying that I’m the help and my bags don’t belong with everyone else’s? I’ll have you know…”

Steve finished stowing your bags and turned around, fire in his blue eyes as he stared you down.

“Hold on a second.”

His voice was low, but deep, and the look on his face both scared and thrilled you.

“I’m putting them up here so you can access them quickly and easily. It’s where my bags are stowed.”

He raised his eyebrow at you and bent his head closer.

“Are you calling ME the help?”

You felt as though there was a threat behind his words, almost as if you were going to get a spanking. And that you would like it.

You cleared your throat and straightened your spine, chin coming up so your eyes met his.

Steve looked into your face, those eyes, that skin, that mouth. He felt your body, especially your chest, nearer to him, and he gulped. He wanted to kiss you, but then remembered that you hated him.

Your stare turned to his lips as you had your own thoughts about what you wanted to do, but then two arms enveloped you from behind.

“THERE'S MY LOVIEEE!”

Aria pulled you close to her, and to Steve started moving around you two, trying to escape.

“Not so fast, Sir. I want to hear all about the date. I’m not going to have to fix her up again, am I? Her coochie has cobwebs from not having dick for over a year. And your dildo doesn’t count.”

Steve coughed and looked down at the floor, intrigued now that he knew that bit of information. God it made him want to feel you around him even more now. Visions of you and a dildo were everywhere in his head. He glanced at the baggage compartment, wondering if Jake was along for the trip.

You could feel yourself flush and you wanted to jump off the plane.

“Ha ha. Little Sisters.” You smiled at Steve. “They have a tendency to exaggerate and embellish.”

Aria was as pure as she was brash.

“Oh no. I remember when we bought him, three months after you broke up with Frank. You named it Jake.That was this time last year.” 

You heard Steve cough and you glared at him and then Aria. Her wide smile was so punchable right now, but you kept your composure.

“But I see that I interrupted some chemistry here. I’m glad I don’t have to find you yet another date.” She looked from you to Steve. “Or doooo I?”

Fuck. You couldn’t do it again. No more blind dates. You looked at Steve and silently pleaded with him. He caught your look and responded to Aria.

“It was… great.”

He didn’t sound too convincing, but when Aria looked back at you, she saw you nodding enthusiastically.

Aria smiled then pouted. “And here I am interrupting your moment.”

She waved her arms and pushed you up against Steve, heading to the main cabin. 

“I’ll give you some privacy.” 

You were shoved up against Steve, feeling his long, lean body against yours. His arms came up around you as you looked up into his face, feeling his breath fanning yours. You heard Aria singing.

“Y/N and Steve sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g…”

You groaned and buried your face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his uniform. Then you looked back up at him.

“Please. Just for the trip. It’s only for a week. I can’t go on another terrible date with a terrible human. I would owe you big time. I could fix you up with some pretty famous people. You have the right look.”

You thought that’s what he would like, since he didn’t like you.

Steve stiffened and pushed you away from him. 

“I’ll do it, because I feel your pain. No need for that kind of repayment. When Aria’s around, we’re hot and heavy. Got it. You probably need to go to your seat now. We’ll take off soon.”

He turned around and opened the cabin door, about to close it when a large hand came from behind you and stopped it.

“Excuse me, Steve forgets that he can’t fly for 8 hours by himself.” 

Barnes smiled at you, and you smiled back weakly. You were reeling a little from Steve’s disgust of you. Steve was already in the Captain’s chair as Barnes maneuvered around you and into the cabin. You turned around and went back to your seat before he closed the cockpit door. You put your earbuds in, pulled up your hoodie and tried to sleep off the bad vibes.

As they were completing preparations for takeoff, Bucky questioned Steve.

“So, are we going to spend the entire flight in silence as you brood over that beautiful woman you just pushed away out there because you’re too awkward to tell her how much you like her?”

Steve just glared at Bucky and then went back to the gauges.

“Alrighty then. 480 minutes of silence. Check.”

The plane landed in Genoa, and you were going to have to be driven to the Cinque Terre area, to the town of Riomaggiore. You had slept most of the flight, having not gotten any sleep the night before. 

That was both good and bad, because it was midnight, Italy time and you could stay up with Aria and keep and eye on her, but your sleep schedule would be fucked up for the forseeable future. 

Steve helped get your bags, but barely looked at you as you and he and Bucky, as you heard Steve call him, deboarded the plane. There were two cars waiting for you all on the tarmac, and Aria told you the moves for tonight and the accommodations.

“Oh, and you and Steve’s room will have it’s on ensuite bathroom…”

“Hold up. Wait. What? Me and Steve’s room?”

Aria looked non plussed. 

“Yeah? Is there a problem? I figured you two would want some quality time!”  

You rolled your eyes at Topher’s “Bow chica wow wow” behind you.

“After ONE date?”

Aria raised her eyebrow at you. “Yes, it’s time to retire Jake. Isn’t that right, Steve?”

Steve was amused despite the situation. “Look, I respect Jake…”

“Who’s Jake?”

Bucky wanted to know. You just glared at him and turned back to Aria.

“I’m sorry. But no. He can bunk with Barnes.”

“No, I’M sorry, but Bucky and Sharon have a room.”

You looked at all of them, confused. You thought she was after Steve.

“What, you didn’t know they were a thing?

Fuck. You could do this, you thought. 

“Okay…” 

You looked at Steve to see if it was okay, and he nodded, a small frown on his face. Great, you had to room with someone who hated you.

The ride to Riomaggiore was uneventful as you proceeded to post to Aria’s socials the progress of the trip so far. Steve was dozing and Sharon and Bucky were not so subtly feeling each other up under his jacket.

When you all arrived and got to your room, your mouth hung open. There was one full sized bed in the small room. The room was generous by European standards, but the bed was a problem. Steve was a large man, and there was no way.

“I’ll bunk on the floor.” 

Steve’s voice was deep, but tired. He’d just spent several hours flying you and your family safely over the Atlantic. You felt guilty.

“I’m going out with Aria and the crew. You take the bed and when I get back, we’ll see what’s up then. 

Steve didn’t argue with you, just put his bags down.

“Cool. I’m beat. I need a shower and sleep.”

Steve started undressing and you averted your eyes as he pulled his shirt off. Damn. Those abs. That v-cut. You should have brought Jake, but you had no privacy. Luckily, He went into the bath and started the shower before he got completely undressed.

You lay back on the bed and got yourself together. You had to admit that you were attracted to him, but you’d screwed it up when you made assumptions about him at dinner and now you were sure that he hated your guts. But would he mind rearranging them? 

You closed your eyes and fantasized about his bare chest and the next thing you knew he was waking you up by calling your name gently. You opened your eyes to a tired, bare chested Steve sitting on the bed next to you. You sat up.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your way.”

He gave you a tired smile. It was very nice. 

“No worries, just didn’t want to… you know.”

You got out of bed to let him have it, noticing that when he stretched out that he was wearing grey sweats. Damn.

“It’s all yours.”

You bit your lip as you said it.  You looked up at him and if this was another situation, you’d jump on top of him.

“It is, is it?”

Steve chuckled, but then turned around and immediately got comfortable, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. All you wanted to do was smooth his hair out of his eyes as they drooped with exhaustion. But you just stood there and watched him fall asleep.

You got your things together and quickly showered yourself, slipping into something more appropriate for partying and tipped out of the room without waking him.

You got back in at 6 am, when Aria and Topher finally went back to their suite. You crept into the bathroom to change into your sleep clothes and brush your teeth, praying you didn’t wake Steve, but it seemed that he was awake already when you came back into the bedroom.

“Hey, come here, y/n.”

He sounded sleepy and angry about something.

Shit, you woke him up. You moved to the bed and saw that his eyes were closed.

He sighed and turned onto his back. You watched his face, which was relaxed, and then the sly smile that appeared while his eyes were still closed. Damn, he was pretty. 

“Y/N!”

This time he groaned your name. Was he talking in his sleep? You felt like an intruder, but you were curious. You leaned closer to him.

“Fuck Jake the Dildo. I’m gonna make you cum on my cock, y/n. I’ll make that pussy mine. No more toys.”

You couldn’t belive what you were hearing. Steve was talking about fucking you. For some reason you felt elated, yet paralyzed, horny and intrigued. You didn’t hear any more, so you crept toward the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back, only to see that Steve had a giant boner. And giant was an understatement. Damn. He would give Jake some competition, judging from the size of him. But he was asleep and it was just his subconscious at work. He didn’t really feel anything for you. Distaste was the most you could hope for.

You tried to get into the bed and not touch him inappropriately, hanging on to the very edge of the mattress. When you got settled, however, you felt Steve turn around and put his arm around you. You felt him grind his boner into your ass and you definitely didn’t hate it. But it wasn’t right.  

You jumped out of the bed and Steve finally woke up, blinking his eyes at you in the dim light.

He took in your form in your tank top and sleep shorts and was confused, then, he looked around and back at you.

“What’s going on?”

His voice, gravely with sleep, wasn't helping the moistness of your panties.

“I’m just trying to get some shut eye.” 

Your tone was annoyed, but you were annoyed at yourself, not Steve.

He nodded, looking at his phone for the time. He got the clue that you didn’t want him around. He began to get out of bed, his boner subsided.

“I’ll get out of your way then. Maybe we can sleep in shifts.  I’ll go for a run.”

You felt terrible about this entire situation. You sat down on the bed, tired beyond words at the tension.

“Steve, I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn’t have assumed. You’re a good guy, but I’ve ruined it, and now we’re in this situation and you hate my guts and now we have to pretend we have a thing and this week is going to be soooo long and… I’m sorry. This could have been so different.”

Steve sat back down on the bed. 

“I don’t hate your guts.”

You looked back up at him. 

“Come on. I’m not stupid? I was a bitch the other night and you haven’t said five words to me strung together and the before the flight you looked like you wanted to spank me and…I’m not stupid, okay?” 

You tilted your head at him and he smirked at you as he moved closer.

“You’re right and wrong. You were rude, but the reason that I haven’t said much to you is because I definitely don’t hate you.”

His eyes moved to your lips.

“And I did want to spank you before the flight.”

Your nipples hardened and he moved his eyes downward to see them staring at him. They looked so good through your tank top that he licked his lips.

“Fuck.” You said, whispering.

“Fuck?” He said, tilting his head at you.

“Fuck!”

You said, whimpering louder and leaning forward, jumping on top of him as he took possession of your lips.

His cock got hard again almost immediately against your thigh. You opened your legs and straddled him, gaining pressure and friction at your core where you wanted it.  You came up for air and tried to sit up, as his large, strong hands held you by the waist, making you stay down and take his new assault at your neck and down your cleavage.

Steve let you sit up and you started moving against him as his hands went under your tank top to find your insistent nipples. You threw your head back and moaned as he first gently, then with more pressure, fine tuned your body to his frequency.

“Shit, Steve.”

“What do you want, Doll?”

The pet name made you feel some kind of way and you opened your mouth as your hands went to his chest to steady yourself as your soaked panties and shorts rubbed against his dick.

It was at that point, that Steve’s slim hips started pistoning up into you, bringing you embarrassingly close to the edge. Fuck, it had been too long since someone else had touched you.

Steve watched you use him to begin to get off and got possessive. He felt triumphant and wanted to be the only one to make you feel like this. He sat up and captured your lips with his again. You put your arms around his bare shoulders and started lightly scratching his back.

Steve’s hand was on the outside of your shorts, tracing up and down the seam of your pussy lips and making you feral for his touch.  You were sucking his tongue now, as if your action would give him a clue to what you wanted to do to him, to have him do to you. He pulled back from you, pupils lust blown as he looked into your eyes.

“I said, what do you want? Can I touch you here?  Can I feel how wet you are for me?….” Steve groaned at the fact that you were letting him do this.

“Yes, Steve.  Please…”

Quickly, Steve’s long, nimble fingers moved up to reach inside your waistband and slipped down to your soaking wet slit, gliding up and down and around your clit, which was hard and almost vibrating with arousal.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you threw your head back, humming with the impending peak of your desire.

“Already Doll? From just kissing and my fingers? You make me feel….”

Steve pulled your tank top off and grabbed your nipple with his lips, pulling at it insistently as he played in your slit and circled your clit with his tongue. He licked around your areolas sloppily, leaving them as wet as your pussy. Within seconds, the coil inside you snapped and you arched into his hand, your back somehow now against the bed as he made you stay still and take what he was doing to you.  He watched you ride the waves of pleasure and whispered praise into your ear.

“Such a good, good girl for me, almost immediately. I can’t wait to clean up this mess you’re making.”

“S-Steve.. I…”

“Shhhhh.” 

Steve crawled down your body, pulling your panties and shorts off, spreading your thighs with his hands and holding you open so that he could see you. 

He shook his head and bit his lip.

“Damn, I knew you would be beautiful, but this is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

He looked up at you as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and pulled them out, wetter than they had been before and dripping with saliva.  You watched as he inserted two into you slowly and roll his beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, so tight. But so wet. Did I do that?”

You shuddered and nodded, closing your eyes in ecstasy at the sensations.

“Eyes, here.” 

He commanded you and you obeyed as you watched him dip his head and almost his entire face except for his eyes and forehead into your pussy.  He held your gaze as you reached down and grabbed his hair. He licked you up and down, stopping at your clit to suck every so often. You started squirming, and although he spoke it into your pussy, you clearly knew that he was saying, “Stay still.” You shuddered on his tongue and closed your eyes, trying to not cum again so soon.

Suddenly, you felt air and received a stinging, yet pleasurable slap against your clit. You yelped, and Steve put his hand on your mouth, which made you even wetter as he slurped you up.

Since you couldn’t move and you couldn’t close your eyes, you just cursed into his hand until you couldn’t take it any more, your eyes rolling back, your pelvis arching into his face, and your thighs clamping around his ears as you came even harder than before.

You must have been out for a few seconds as you felt him wrap his arms around you, snuggling under the covers. You reached behind you for his dick through his sweats and he moved back, out of reach. When you brought your hand back in front of you is when he got close again. You felt his arousal, yet he wasn’t giving you any.

“Just sleep for now. This is going to be a long week indeed.”

His baritone soothed you a bit and you thought better of protesting as you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later, alone in the bed. Steve must have regretted what happened.

Great.

———

Rebloggers are winners!

Read Greater, the next part.

[leossmoonn]

could i please request a stefan fluff where the reader is like spanish or smth, but she speaks ij english with everyone. and her and stefan are dating. so one day she gets upset over smth so she starts ranting in spanish and stefan can't understand a thing. and he's like "oh- ok-" even though he didn't understand anything. if not thats ok! have a nice day!!

have a nice day too <33

masterlist

pairing - stefan salvatore x spanish speaking, fem!reader

type - fluff, angst

note - i put the reader as a spanish speaker and not just spanish, so it could be more inclusive :). and i'm so sorry that this is so bad. i couldn't come up with a better plot like i wanted to, but i hope you enjoy anyways!

warnings / includes - language, kissing, food and alcohol mention, cute couple stuff, you getting upset (duh), kissing, stefan trying to be supportive but also being really confused lol. you all are like in your late 20s for this lol. for those who aren't spanish speakers, i will put translations in little text under each sentence/paragraph

————

"Sí. Bueno, lo retomaré más tarde. Gracias," you hung up the phone, setting it down with a smile on your face.

["Yes. Okay, I will pick it up later. Thank you."]

"Hey, who was that?" Stefan come over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"That was Lucas's friend. He was able to get the cake and the cupcakes made early!" You squealed, jumping up and down in his arms.

"Oh, that's awesome! Looks like Caroline won't be bugging you anymore," Stefan chuckled.

"Oh, I know. Man, am I happy to finally get this party planning over with," you sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter.

You smiled as you came face-to-face with your boyfriend. You hung your arms around his neck lazily, twirling the hair on the nape of his neck with your first fingers.

"Tired?" Stefan raised a brow, settings hands on your hips.

"Exhausted. And to think the actual party is tonight," you chuckled. "Well, that's the easiest part, right?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah, watching over twenty-to-twenty five eleven years olds is easy," you rolled your eyes.

"You'll have help. Caroline, me, Bonnie, Ric, Elena, Matt. Even Damon has volunteered to watch them!"

"Or lure them in a back corner and fed on them," you scoffed. "Hey, Damon's a lot of things, but he is not a child-blood-sucker," Stefan defended.

"Awe, you're defending him. How cute," you booped his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We are goals. Or whatever the kids are saying these days."

You giggled at his words, turning back around as you heard the front door open. You looked to see Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena carrying the twins, a bunch of presents, and at least five boxes of pizza.

"Damn. I wish you guys bought me this many presents!" You exclaimed.

"Oh, shut up. We give you a bottle of champagne and you're already over the moon," Elena snickered.

"Well, what can I say? I'm a simple gal," you grinned.

"Hey, Stef, can you help, please? Put these next to the window sill," Bonnie ordered as she was carrying most of the presents.

"Yeah, of course," Stefan nodded. He ran over to her with his vampire speed, picking up the presents at lightening speed and laying them out in towers.

"Thank you," Bonnie sighed. "Yeah, no problem. Hey, why didn't you just use your magic to carry them in?" Stefan asked.

"I need to save my energy for the kids," Bonnie explained.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. I didn't know we were letting the world know our secret," you frowned.

"We aren't! They're just a bunch of kids. Plus, we can just compel them to forget. Josie and Lizzie really want to show them tricks, too," Caroline bounced the twins in her arms.

You looked to the two girls who were giggling and smiling. You sighed, "Fine. Anyways, guess who was able to get the cake and the cupcakes."

"Oh, my God! You?" Caroline gasped. "Yep. Call me Santa Claus 'cause I just delivered!" You grinned.

Elena, Bonnie, and Stefan cringed at your joke.

"Not your best work, Y/n," Elena shook her head.

"What! Hey, that was pretty good," you frowned. "You'll get 'em next time, babe," Stefan smiled, going over to you and patting you on the back.

"Okay, you guys are just jealous because you're not as funny as me," you scoffed.

"Oh, yeah, we're jealous all right," Bonnie smirked.

You opened your mouth to retort back, but your phone started ringing. You looked at the Caller ID, seeing that it was your brother, Lucas. You gave them all a death glare, picking up your phone and going into the other room.

"Hey, amigo, what's up?" You asked.

"Uh, bad news, chica," Lucas sighed. "Oh?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah, turns out that Darryl can't make the cake or the cupcakes today."

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you thought of what to say.

"Y/n? Please say something," Luca begged.

You turned your head, your face screwing up in guilt and anger as you saw Lizzie and Josie playing with Bonnie and Stefan. You turned back and focused on the conversation you were having with you very trusting brother.

"¿Qué quiere decir Darryl no puede hacer el pastel o cupcakes?"

[What do you mean darryl can't make the cake or cupcakes?"]

"I mean that he can't make them. Do I need to explain to you what those words mean? And why are you speaking in Spanish? Afraid someone will —"

"En realidad, lo soy, Lucas. Dios, eres tan poco confiable. ¡Y ese amigo tuyo! Espera, ¿podría recuperar mi dinero?"

["Actually, I am, Lucas. God, you are so unreliable. And that friend of yours! Wait, am I going to be able to get my money back?"]

"Um… probably not. But it's okay, I'll pay you back!"

"Ah, ¿cuándo? ¿Después de sacar dinero del fondo universitario de su hijo? ¿O se lo van a pedir a mamá y papá esta vez?"

["Oh, when? After you take out money from your child's college fund? Or are you going to ask mom and dad for it this time?"]

"Hey, don't blame me! Blame Darryl. All I did was hook you up with him!"

"Y probablemente sabías que era un gilipollas mentiroso y que robaba dinero. Llámame de vuelta cuando seas capaz de no mentirme, ¿sí?"

["And you probably knew that he was a lying, money-stealing asshole. Call me back when you're able to not lie to me, yeah?"]

"Wait, Y/n, I-"

You hung up the phone, throwing it on the chair next to you. You groaned quietly, the bridge of your nose burning as tears welled up in your eyes.

"¿Cómo puedes ser tan estúpido, Y/n? Confiando en él después de todo lo demás que ha hecho. Estúpido, estúpido, estúpido!"

["How can you be so stupid, Y/n? Trusting him after everything else he's done. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"]

Stefan, who was throwing up Lizzie and Josie in the air, heard your mutters in the other room. He frowned and put the girls down, promising them that he would be back in a second after checking up on you. He walked into the next room slowly, putting his arm around you lightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

You jumped at his voice and touch, sniffling and wiping the tears from your face. "Y-Yeah. Just some um, family stuff."

"Want to talk about it?" Stefan asked.

You sighed, turning around to him. His hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it for support.

"It's just… Lucas. He's just so… jodidamente molesto," you sighed. "Él simplemente no piensa en otras personas y las consecuencias. Quiero decir, trata de ayudar, lo que es agradable, pero siempre termina por pagar dinero a la gente, o termina por tener un ojo negro."

[“He is just so… fucking annoying. He just doesn't think about other people and the consequences. I mean, he tries to help, which is nice, but he always either ends up owing people money, or ends up having a black eye.”]

"O-Oh, yeah," Stefan nodded, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand. But you were speaking so fast and with so much anger, he barely picked up a word.

"Y como su hermana mayor, sé que probablemente se supone que voy fácil con él, pero es un hombre crecido. ¡Debe saber estas cosas! Ugh, sabía que debería haber ordenado a ellos como, Target o algo, pero el amigo de su “aparentemente” es capaz de hacer diseños realmente lindos y hacer arte fondant en tiempo récord, así que tomé mis mis oportunidades. ¿Y adivina dónde estoy ahora?"

[“And as his older sister, I know I'm probably supposed to go easy on him, but he's a grown man. He should know these things! Ugh, I knew I should've just ordered them from like, Target or something, but hsi friend "apparently" is able to do really cute designs and make fondant art in record time, so I took my chances. And guess where I am now?”]

"Right, right. Wow, I'm sorry, babe, I —"

"Ciento cincuenta dólares cortos con dos niñas que van a estar tristes cuando no consiguen su pastel de sirena barbie y cupcakes con temática de Minecraft. ¡Argh!"

["One hundred and fifty dollars short with two little girls who are going to be sad when they don't get their Barbie Mermaid cake and Minecraft-themed cupcakes. Argh!"]

You stopped your rant when you noticed Stefan looked at you with a confused expression on his face. You thought for a moment to yourself, beginning to laugh at yourself as you realised you were speaking in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, Stef. I didn't realise you couldn't understand me."

He smiled and shrugged. "No worries. At least you were able to get it all out, right?"

"A little. When I punch Lucas, I'll be able to get it all out," you grinned.

"That's my girl."

————

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[pricetagofficial]

State Fair -CK

Warnings: Language, fluff, Clark is a dork, Bruce is a good brother

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.2K

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A/N: Just like Sweet Tarts, whether Reader is adopted or biological is up for interpretation seeing as I never specified. Also, big thanks to Fish and Elle for reading this and helping me out!

“This has to be your worst idea yet.”

“I agree because you are clearly going to back out.”

“I will not!”

“Sure, Clark.”

With a huff, Clark crossed his arms. “You’re insufferable.”

Bruce chuckled and waved his friend off. “Just go sit down, this will work I swear.”

Clark gave Bruce a look before taking his paddle and sat in his chair. This really was a stupid idea, what would happen when it didn’t work? He hated the idea of paying for a date, letting alone having Bruce pay for it so he could ensure he got one. But all the funds went to various charities, so that was a plus.

You peeked out of the curtain, and saw the crowd gathering in the auction room. Bruce had set up an auction where various socialites would be auctioned off for a single date to the highest bidder. Being a Wayne, let alone Bruce’s sister, you were a shoo-in for some really high bids.

Each person represented various charities, and you were assigned to various orphanages across Gotham. You thought it would be good to support other kids who were victims of losing their parents considering you lost yours along with Bruce that night.

Taking another peek into the crowd, you saw Alfred sitting there with Dick, who looked too excited for a thirteen-year-old kid to be at an auction. Dick caught your eye and waved happily at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You waved your fingers at him, earning a smile from Alfred who totally caught you peeking.

Next to Alfred was Clark, Bruce’s best friend, and fellow Justice League member. Feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, you quickly hid behind the curtain and closed your eyes. What the hell was Clark doing here?

“Y/N, you doing alright?”

Turning to look behind you, you saw Bruce standing there with his signature charismatic smile. He was being auctioned off for a date a well tonight,

“Why didn’t you tell me Clark was here?” you hissed.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” he shrugged. “Dick was excited to see him.”

“That’s because the kid looks up to him, figuratively and literally,” you argued.

Bruce watched you with a sly smile. “Besides, why is it such a big deal that Clark is here or not?”

“I-- oooh,” you growled. “You know exactly why, asshole.”

Letting out a chuckle, Bruce patted your shoulder. “Go get ready, we’re about to start.”

Giving him a glare, you went and found your seat and crossed your arms. Stupid Bruce and his stupid plans. You weren’t sure what he was hiding up his sleeve, but when you’re older brother was The Batman you learned to watch out for the tiny giveaways.

Bruce was planning something, and you were going to figure out what it was.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to our annual Charity Auction! This year we are auctioning off a single date with some of Gotham’s most notable residents! The funds for this year will go to several charities predetermined by our wonderful participants! Now without further ado, let’s get on with the show!”

The announcer walked to the podium as the curtain rose to reveal a grand stage and all the participants off to the side hidden out of sight. Across the stage sat Bruce, leaning back in his seat as he talked with several friends of his.

“So, what did Bruce do to convince you to join this year?”

Looking to your right, you saw Kate was hovering over your shoulder.

“Last year, Dick was sick and Alfred was called away for a family matter.” You explained, Kate should remember why you weren’t at the auction last year. She helped come up with the cover story.

Batman and Robin had a rough time that night on patrol, thanks in no part to Scarecrow. Dick had gotten a large dose of his fear toxin, and Bruce was too injured to console him. Alfred had to make sure Bruce was alright before the next day, and left you with a hysterical Dick until the antidote kicked in.

You had decided to stay that night because Dick was plastered to your side, and Bruce understood completely. Surprisingly enough, during the auction, Clark had shown up and helped you take care of the little boy wonder, even going as far as falling asleep with Dick curled into his side.

Thinking back on the memory, you couldn’t help but smile. That was one of the first times you and Clark had any time alone together.

“And now for bachelorette number three, Y/N Wayne.”

Jerking your head up, you smiled and rose to your feet, and walked onto the stage. You must have spaced out the first two people during your trip down memory lane. Waving politely, you caught the eye of Clark who only smiled brightly at you.

Seeing his smile made you feel lighter than air.

“Miss Wayne represents the orphanage charities all across Gotham, hoping to restore the buildings and ensure a bright future for the children.”

Looking at the auctioneer, you gave him an impressed look. He was playing it up really well, not like he needed it to. You were a Wayne, and was guaranteed to rake in some serious money. You just hoped it would be enough.

“We’ll start the bidding at $500,000. Do I see $500,000?”

All at once, several paddles went up, including Clark’s. You couldn’t fight the confused look on your face, what the hell was he doing? That had to be almost five times the amount he made in a year working for the Daily Planet! So what the hell was he doing spending it all on a date with you?

You stood on the stage as the prices ranked higher and higher, Clark’s paddle not once lowering. The price was almost $2,000,000 and Clark was fighting off with another guy, all for a date with you. You would be feeling proud if you weren’t so concerned for Clark’s livelihood.

“$2.5 million? Do I see $2.5 million?”

Watching the crowd, you watched as the second guy gleaned at Clark and loosened his tie almost as if he was afraid of what would happen to him if he kept trying to outbid him. He lowered his paddle, and Clark just beamed.

“Sold for $2.5 million!”

Clark let out a sigh of relief, Dick looking at him with astonishment. “How’d you get all that money?”

Shrugging, he sent Dick a smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Maybe, this wasn’t such a bad plan after all.

It took a few hours, but eventually, the auction ended and Clark was escorted out of the room with Alfred and Dick beside him.

“You know, this could be a dream come true for you.” Dick grinned. “How long did you have to bully B into giving you the money?”  

Looking down at the kid, Clark chuckled. Of course Dick figured it out, he was living with Batman after all. “Not long, he wanted to make sure his sister didn’t end up with some creep.”

Dick chuckled, adjusting his jacket. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

The three of them waited for you and Bruce to show, ready to take you home for a well-deserved rest. The auction went off without a hitch, and it was all thanks to Bruce and the effort he put in.

Turning the corner, you and Bruce smiled seeing them. Nudging his shoulder, you looked up at him. “Are you going to tell me how Clark got $2.5 million?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Crossing your arms, you gave Bruce an unimpressed look. “Sure, but why do I feel like it has something to do with you?”

“You think everything has to do with me.”

“Do I need to bring up your nightly activities?”

Bruce didn’t get another word out before Dick came running up to you with his arms wide, diving in for a hug.

“Y/N! You did great up there! Sure beats last year right?” he chuckled.

Smiling at him, you ruffled his hair. “I don’t know kiddo, I actually enjoyed my time with you.”

“I agree, it was nice to relax for a night.”

Looking up, you saw Clark smiling down at you with his signature boy scout smile. You always loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the little scrunch of his nose.

“You want to talk about relaxing? Where the hell did you get $2.5 mil?”

“Yeah, you were practically shooting lasers, Clark.” Dick chimed in.

Looking between you and Dick, Clark shrugged with a smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

***

You stood in the Batcave, by the zeta transport waiting quietly for Clark to show and pick you up. Bruce and Dick stood by your side to keep you company while you waited. Bruce was half-dressed in his Batman suit while Dick was nursing a cup of Earl Grey tea.

“What time did he say he would be here?” you asked, checking your watch again.

“Relax, Y/N.” Dick chuckled, “You know, if I didn’t know any better I would think that you have a thing for Superman.”

“Well, you do know better.” you huffed. It wasn’t the standing that bothered you, in all honestly it was the wait. What if Clark decided to cancel on you? Yeah, he already paid over $2 million for it but that didn’t mean he had to show up.

You shook the thoughts out of your head. Clark wasn’t that kind of guy, you knew he wasn’t. Clark Kent was one of the sweetest guys in the universe, there was no one else you would rather spend your night with than him.

Which brought up other thoughts. Bruce was instructed to not let you dress fancy at all, leaning you closer to casual jeans and a shirt as your attire. Whatever Clark was planning, you weren’t going to find out until he told you.

There was a bright flash and Clark stepped out of the zeta tube, wearing his normal apparel with his glasses propped up on his nose.

“Hey, you ready to go?”

You gave him a nod, grabbing your purse. “Born ready.”

Clark smiled and looked at you. He thought you looked perfect tonight and hoped you would enjoy the date he was taking you on.

“Be sure to have her home on time,” Dick scolded, grinning into his cup of tea. “And no funny business.”

Bruce looked down at him and nudged his shoulder ruffling his hair. “Isn’t that my job, chum?”

“Let’s be real here B, no one takes Batman seriously without Robin there to kick their face in.”

You couldn’t fight the giggles, covering your mouth to muffle them. Walking over, you squished Dick’s face and kissed his forehead. “Make sure you listen to Bruce and Alfred okay?”

Dick gave you a nod, hugging you tightly. “Have fun.”

Running your fingers through his hair, you kissed the top of his head before letting him go. Turning to Bruce, he pulled you tightly into a hug and kissed your cheek. “Be careful, we’re just one call away if you need us.”

“Bruce, I’m with Superman. I’ll be okay.”

Looking at Alfred you pointed at the two boys next to you. “Give me a call if none of them are listening, okay?”

Alfred smiled, “Of course Miss Y/N, now go have fun.”

Turning back to Clark, he offered you his arm before leading you back towards the zeta tube. “Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me, and we’ll be back before midnight.”

Bruce nodded, waving you two goodbye as you disappeared into the blinding light. Coming out on the other side, you were greeted with the fresh air one wouldn’t normally get in Gotham. The scent of fresh crops, dirt, and manure filled the air as you opened your eyes to the setting sun of the Kansas skyline. It was a beautiful shade of orange with pinks and blues dusted across the sky, you never got sunsets like this back home either.

“Clark, it’s beautiful out here.” you smiled.

He watched you fondly, his eyes not leaving you for a second. “It really is.”

Turning to look at him, you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. Keeping a hold of your arm, Clark led you down the streets of Smallville towards a truck that was parked against the curb. Opening the door, Clark reached in and pulled out two plaid shirts, and handed one of them to you.

“Clark, what are we doing?” you laughed, sliding your arms into the flannel sleeves as he pulled on his own.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he grinned. “Hop in.”

Giving Clark a look, you walked to the passenger seat and climbed into the truck. Starting it up, the air was filled with an old Randy Travis song effectively setting the mood for the drive. Leaning back in the seat, you looked out the window as Clark drove off, heading out of town limits.

With the window open, you felt the wind blow in your face and embraced the fresh air. Cornfields flew by as Clark drove down the highway, towards a large empty field. Off in the distance, you could see tall structures you made out to be a ferris wheel and various tents.

Keeping your concerns to yourself, you watched as he turned into the field and parked the truck. Turning it off, Clark quickly hopped out of it before you could even open the door. Walking around to your side, Clark quickly opened your door and held his hand out to you.

With a smile, you took it as he helped you out of the truck. “Shall we?”

“A state fair?” You laughed, hopping out of the vehicle.

Once on the ground, you noticed you were practically pressed against Clark’s chest and were forced to look up at him. You were so close, you could smell his body wash and felt his breath fan over your face.  

Clark smiled down at you, holding your hand tightly in his. Brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, he pulled it up and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I thought this would be a great place to take a city girl such as yourself.”

Trying to hide your embarrassment, you pushed the bridge of his glasses up too high and huffed. “Stop doing that,” you muttered and walked towards the entrance to the fair. Clark’s laughter could be heard from behind you as he jogged to catch up with your fast pace. Slipping his hand back into yours, he paid for tickets and led you into the fairgrounds.

Walking around, you couldn’t help but admire the things around you. Banners were hung everywhere, with signs pointing to all the attractions. There were rides, games, and food stands all over the place.

Gripping his hand, you pointed at a booth selling cotton candy and grinned excitedly. “Come on Clark!” You laughed and pulled him towards the stand and watched him order a large cotton candy for you to share.

Finding a spot on a nearby bench, you sat and pulled off pieces and stuck them into your mouth humming happily as they dissolved. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to a fair like this, and the feeling excited you.

Clark watched as you ate the sugary snack, his blue eyes shining in adoration. He loved the way your eyes lit up with every bite and the cute little hum you made when you tasted it.

“Now are you going to tell me where you got the money to buy our little date?”

“You’ll just make fun of me,”

“I make fun of you anyway,” you giggled.

Clark gave you a look before taking the piece of cotton candy out of your hand and ate it with a grin. “Now you’re just being mean,”

Nudging his shoulder, you looked up at him. “Did you forget who I have for an older brother?”

Stifling a laugh, Clark nodded and leaned closer smoothly wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You’re right, being mean is a Wanye trait. I’d hate to see how mean an offspring of Bruce could be.”

Laughing along with him, you couldn’t help but agree. A biological offspring of Bruce would be a nightmare, you only hoped that the kid’s mother would be a calm and relaxed person.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume you got the money from Lex.”

Clark gave you an unimpressed look, “Now that’s not funny.”

“I find that I am quite funny,” you grinned.

Dropping his head in defeat, Clark huffed. “Bruce gave me the money,” he admitted. “He wanted to make sure his sister didn’t end up on a date with a creep.”

Taking another bite, you looked at him. “I’m going to assume there is more to this, you don’t go on a lot of dates Clark.”

If you had a dime for every time you saw Superman blush, you would only have five cents which isn’t a lot but it was worth it to see the man of steel blush.

“Clark?”

Turning away, Clark bit his lip. How was he supposed to tell you he set this up with Bruce, so he could get a date with you? But he didn’t need to say anything, you watched his expression and the sudden uptick in his nervousness. You grew up with the world’s greatest detective, of course, you would notice when he was crushing hard on his best friend’s sister.

“You and Bruce set this up, didn’t you?” you asked.

Clark’s silence only confirmed it.

“Clark, you know all you had to do was ask,” you smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. Clark turned to look at you. “I would have said yes.”

Adjusting his body, Clark turned to face you fully. Cupping your face in his hands, Clark pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

Letting out a gasp, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. After a few moments, Clark pulled away and rubbed his nose against yours with a smile. “Maybe next time, I’ll just start with that.”

“Maybe you should, watch Bruce have an aneurysm.” you giggled.

Pecking your lips once more, Clark looked around and saw it was getting dark. “Come on, I have a special place to watch the fireworks.”

Rising from your bench, Clark threw your empty cotton candy stick in the trash and pulled you down the path towards a secluded area. “Hang on tight,” he grinned.

“Hang on to wha-- ah!”

Before you knew it, Clark had his arms wrapped around you before he flew into the air. Gripping onto him for dear life, you buried your face in his shirt afraid to look at the things around you.

“Y/N, open your eyes.” he chuckled.

Carefully peeking an eye open, you saw that both of you were hovering a good height above the ground and watched as the fireworks exploded in the distance with loud pops. Once you got comfortable, you leaned your head against his chest and held on tightly watching the fireworks timing them to the beat of his heart.

“It’s beautiful up here, Clark.” you smiled.

“Not as beautiful as you,”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his with the fireworks going off behind you.

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[writingmyanxietyaway]

Cloacked Heart | Jackson Avery

Requested by anon:  Hi😊💕 Are you taking requests? Also, I wanna tell you that your works are very good💯👏👏👌🏻 and then, I was thinking on using “Oh, do you ever shut up?”; “You can call me whenever you want.. Even if you don’t have a reason to.”; “Tell me I’m wrong.” where the reader is DeLuca's sister and gets to work for the first time with Jackson but they don't get very well at first :) xx

Word count: 2.7k

Warning: none

Note: not my gif! kinda enemies to lovers

Thank you so much, darling! It really means the world to me :) Hope you like it xx

#11 - ‘Oh, do you ever shut up?’

#46 - ‘You can call me whenever you want.. Even if you don’t have a reason to.’

#67 - ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’

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

Today was your third week at your new job. Thanks to your brother Andrew, you got in at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Before, you worked in a hospital on the other side of the country which you thoroughly enjoyed but due to staff cuts, you had to leave. Being incredibly good at what you do, you got offered some jobs but none of them interested you. So Andrew spoke to his superior and got you a job as an attending in OB/GYN. Your sister Carina worked in OB/GYN also, so that’s where your fascination and passion for this specialty came from.

‘Hey, Y/N! How’s moving in going?’ Arizona asked, handing you a coffee. You took a sip and let the hot beverage slip down your throat. Warmth spread through your whole body as you enjoyed the bitter taste on your tongue.

‘It’s going okay, actually. All I need to do is paint the walls and I’m done,’ you nodded contently. Moving in was less stressful than you thought it would be, thanks to your newly made friends here at Grey Sloan. Arizona was the first person Andrew introduced you to and since he’s her roommate and head of Ped’s, you knew you would most likely see each other more.

‘Cool! Hey, you wanna come over for dinner on friday? I’ll kick Andrew out and we can have a girls night. If you want I’ll invite the other girls too,’ she said, pointing to the three sisters at the end of the hallway who waved at you.

‘Yeah, that would be fun. If it’s not a bother to you, that is,’ you said. You hated being a bother to anyone and always did your best to keep to yourself. Especially since you were new, you didn’t want to intrude. All of the staff seemed really close to each other by what you had seen so far.

‘Oh it’s no problem at all!’ she waved off, ‘And besides, after such a stressful time you deserve a glass of wine. Or bottle.’ She winked at you and left to check up on het patients. You knew you had surgery tonight, so you decided to lay down for a little in one of the on-call rooms. Thinking about your life before and now made you smile. The job you had was great, but they didn’t let you do what you did best; save lives and deliver babies. There was always someone who was better than you or stole your patients. It was unfair and definitely uncalled for, but being here made you feel appreciated and welcomed. You hadn’t met everyone yet, but so far you got along with everyone.

You heard a knock on the door and got up. It was one of the interns who told you the surgery had been moved to the afternoon. You decided to check on the patient before surgery, but someone already beat you to it. A man was talking to your patient. He was tall, muscular and had piercing blue eyes. You knew it was Jackson Avery, as you had seen on the board earlier today, but you had yet to meet the man. Your breath hitched for a moment and that caught the attention of both your patient and the still unknown man.

‘Hi, sorry to interrupt. I’m doctor DeLuca. I’ll be performing your surgery with doctor Avery,’ you introduced yourself to the patient with a smile. She shook your hand and then turned her attention back to Jackson. He explained every step of the surgery. She was pregnant with twins, but her skin had been completely stretched out, making the continuation of the pregnancy very dangerous. You would deliver both babies safely while Jackson restored the skin. It wasn’t a risky procedure, but it did require some skills. Hence the two of you being here. Once he was done explaining, she felt safe enough and two interns took her to pre-op. You handed the tablet to one of the nurses, who you remembered was called Linda, and turned to Jackson.

‘I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Y/N DeLuca, ’ you said with a smile and held out your hand for him to take. He shook it and nodded at you.

‘Jackson Avery. Let me be clear straight away. Don’t try anything funny with me or anyone in this hospital. This hospital is funded with the money I provided, so this placed is owned by me, no matter what anyone says. I can kick you out as easily as you came in. So, let’s do this surgery, because I have more to do today.’ Not waiting for an answer, he turned around and left to prep for surgery. You stared at him until he left and shook yourself out of your haze. What crawled up his ass and died?

When you tried to leave, you bumped into Andrew.

‘Hey, Annie,’ you asked, hearing him groan behind you. You had called him that since you caught him singing along to Annie: The Musical one night. He hated it ever since, but after doing it for so long his actual name sounded weird so you just kept using it. ‘Is Jackson always such an ass?’ You turned around and watched his face turn into a frown.

‘No.. most of the time he’s the nicest guy around, why?’ he asked. He saw you frowning and stepped towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. ‘Did he do something?’ 

Your sister was older than you and he was younger, making you the middle child, but he always protected you like an older brother. Whenever you felt sad or angry, you came to him first before anyone else.

‘No, nothing happened. I just introduced myself and he started going on about me not trying anything funny here because he could kick me out if he wanted to,’ you mumbled.

‘Hmm.. maybe he has a bad day? I can talk to him if you want me to?’

‘No, it’s okay. I’ve got surgery with him, so I’ll talk to him. I gotta go, see you tonight?’ you asked. He nodded and smiled. 

‘Goodluck, peanut! Page me if you need anything.’

You scrubbed, changed into different clothes and stared operating. You could see how tense Jackson still was, so you tried to lighten the mood.

‘So, Jackson, how long have you been here for?’ you asked. Your hands worked flawlessly and Jackson noticed. He was pissed off at someone new coming to work at the hospital again, thinking it would only cause more drama again, but you seemed actually nice and talented. It sparked a little jealousy in him that he hadn’t felt before.

‘Long enough,’ he grumbled. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. His eyebrows were furrowed and he watched the skin he worked on closely. You had seen his work before and it was incredible.

‘Okay, well..’ you started, ‘Not to kiss your ass or anything, but I think you’re a great surgeon and I am really looking forward to working with you more in the future.’

There was no response as you continued on delivering the babies. You soon delivered a boy and shortly after a little girl.

‘There they are. Please take them to either doctor Robins or Karev. They’ll check up on them and inform the parents. I’ll be right there,’ you told the interns with a smile and they quickly left.

‘That was really nice, you know.. Saving the hospital and all. I couldn’t-’ you got cut off by a load groan of Jackson.

‘Oh, do you ever shut up?’

Shocked at his sudden snap, your hands froze and your breath hitched. He seemed to be okay with what he said, since he just kept going. What you didn’t know was that he didn’t mean to snap. It was like he lost control over his mouth, because when the words left his lips, he was shocked himself. Snapping at a woman like that was very unlike him, so when you mumbled out a sorry, he wanted to apologize, but the words were stuck in his throat.

-

The ‘shut up’ incident had been almost a year ago. You had worked with him a few times after that and he talked to you more often now, but luckily Arizona offered to take your surgeries with him so you could take over hers. She had truly been your best friend since you started at Grey Sloan, besides April. The three of you got along incredibly well and you even went out for dinner once a month. Andrew and you had switched apartments, so you now lived with Arizona and he lived in your apartment.

It was saturday and you were about to leave, but you wanted to check on you patient Amy one last time before she left. She was allowed to leave tomorrow and you had the day off, so you wouldn’t see her anymore. Sofia was 18 and was now a mother of a healthy baby girl. Her parents refused to see her as they were religious and didn’t approve of their daughter having sex before marriage. So you kind of took her under your wing until she left.

‘How are you holding up?’ you asked her, sitting on the end of her bed. She smiled at the little peanut laying on her chest as she wrapped her little hand around Amy’s finger. 

‘I’m okay. I guess all the cliché’s are true. Whenever I look at her everything just falls away. I’m going to be okay. We will be okay. I know we are,’ she spoke and you felt extremely proud of her. When she came in, she was terrified, alone and hurt. Now, she was all grown up and not scared of what the future would bring.

‘I’m proud of you, Amy. I really am. You have my number, so if anything happens or if you need anything, just give me a call, okay?’ She nodded and you hugged her goodbye. You caressed the little girl over the head and was about to leave when suddenly her heartbeat picked up and she started seizing. You took the child away as you yelled at nurses to help you, but to no avail. She had a heart attack and didn’t survive. The baby was taken away to the pediatric wing and her body was taken to the morgue. You sat in the middle of the room, staring at the place Amy laid alive and smiling just a little over an hour ago. Your bottom lip trembled and you could feel your throat closing up as you choked back a sob.

Jackson was about to leave too, when he saw you sitting alone in an empty room quietly crying to yourself. He glanced around to see if anyone knew what you were doing there, but when he saw no one even noticed you were sitting on your own, he stepped in. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he softly asked you. He noticed you tensing up, but something inside him told him you needed someone to be there for you. Clearly you were shaken up, so he couldn’t just leave you here alone. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to you. He followed your gaze and it didn’t take long for him to realise you’d lost a patient.

‘How old was she?’ he whispered. You let out a shaky breath and wiped away your tears.

‘Eighteen. Heart attack,’ you whispered back, your voice breaking. His heart clenched when he saw you so broken. You always wandered and skipped around the halls, a smile on your face and carrying positivity with you everywhere you went. Seeing tears falling down your cheeks and a frown on your face was nothing like you.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, placing a hand on your thigh. You felt a spark of electricity flow through your body and turned to face him. His eyes held remorse and his eyebrows were furrowed in worry.

‘I’m sorry too.’

You two sat like this for a few minutes. Sitting in silence cleared your head. You enjoyed Jackson’s company and it made you feel safe and warm to know he wanted to know if you were okay.

‘Come on. I’ll take you home,’ he offered, holding out his hand for you to take. You gladly took it and placed the chairs back on their spots. You got in his expensive car and silently drove to Arizona’s and your place. When you arrived, you didn’t get out right away.

‘Thank you Jackson. You didn’t have to do that, wait for me, I mean. But thank you for waiting and being there. I appreciate it,’ you told him, not daring to look him in the eyes. You could see him nod in the corner of your eye.

‘No problem. If you need anyone, you can call me whenever you want.. Even if you don’t have a reason to.’ 

Your heart fluttered at his words and you blushed. He reached out for your hand and kissed the top of it.

‘Goodnight, Jackson. Thanks again.’

-

Three years you had been working here. Since the passing of your patient, you and Jackson got along surprisingly well. Others seemed to notice as well, because both of you got invited to parties and dinners more, because you finally could be in a room with each other without one killing the other. Either of you were unaware of the feelings you shared for each other, that seemed to increase more every day.

‘Hey Jackson, wanna come over for dinner tonight? Arizona is out and I don’t wanna sit alone all night,’ you asked him, flopping down on the couch next to him. He seemed to ignore you as he continued playing on his phone.

‘Jackson? Are you okay?’ you asked again, this time softer and turning your body to look at him. You saw him swallow thickly and nervously play with his beard. It felt like a slap to the face when he ignored you. After three years you could finally have a decent conversation and now he was shutting you out again..? It simply didn’t make sense.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ you whispered. You swallowed the lump in your throat and Jackson finally looked up at you. He had to say it. It was now or never.

‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ he stated. His eyes held fear as he looked you in the eyes.

‘Wrong about what?’ you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘Jackson, what’s going on?’ Placing a hand on his knee, his eyes flickered from your hand to your face.

‘Tell me I’m right to believe you share the same feelings I have for you,’ he breathed out. Your heart beat loudly in your ears and you felt like he could hear it. He placed his hand over yours that laid on his knee and interwined your hands. You couldn’t believe it. Taking you silence as an answer, he chuckled bitterly and let go of your hand.

‘I guess I was wrong,’ he mumbled, standing up. You quickly stood up too.

‘I want to tell you you’re wrong, but that would be a lie. And I can’t lie; not to you. I actually wanted to tell you the same. Tonight. If you wanted to of course.’ You stumbled over your words as you tried to tell him how you felt. He chuckled at your rambling and he cut you short by placing a hand in your neck and pulling you against him, kissing you softly. His lips were soft and full and he smelled amazing. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing in your tip toes to pull him closer.

‘Only if it’s a date and I cook for you,’ he whispered against your lips. You giggled and nodded, making him smile.

‘I’m sure we can arrange that.’

You leaned in again, but froze when you heard a voice behind you.

‘Oh come on! Not you too. Now I’ve lost both my sisters to my co-workers. I shouldn’t have offered you the job, damn it,’ Andrew grumbled.

‘Oh, shut it Annie. Your time will come,’ you called after him, earning a middle finger in return, making you and Jackson giggle.

[collecting-stories]

Heaven, We’re Already Here - t. 05 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things are progressing between y/n and JJ. 

A/N: We’re halfway to the end...can you even believe it?

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ My soul isn’t yours to save anymore ✞

The bet had become a thing of contention between JJ and John B since the night of the kegger. It was fairly obvious that JJ wanted out and the only reason he was still hanging on was because he had convinced himself that he desperately needed the cash. 

But the more he spent time with you the harder it was becoming to justify to himself that cash was worth the level of humiliation he would be subjecting you to if you knew that this was all just one massive joke on you. From the moment he saw you in the church JJ knew that this was no game or bet, no matter what he tried to tell himself when you weren’t around. And after spending the day in Chapel Hill with you he was more convinced than ever that he needed to end things before they got out of hand.  

“Here.” JJ practically slammed the money on the table, pushing it across to Sarah.

“What’s this?”

“I forfeit.” He replied. “Take your 200 back.” 

“I thought you needed the money,” John B said, tone mocking the way JJ had grumbled about needing cash three weeks ago. 

“Yeah and now I don’t.” He snapped.  

Kiara looked away, grabbing the empty glasses off the table and taking them back to the counter. The only nice thing about him doing this in the Wreck was that she could walk away from the table when it got uncomfortable. Kiara hadn’t been shy in telling JJ that he should call off the bet, “if you really need 200, I’ll front you.” But she was less inclined to put herself in the middle of the altercation with him, John B, and Sarah. 

She knew that he regretted making the bet in the first place and she had felt guilty hanging out with you, knowing that it was all just a joke behind your back that JJ and his friends could laugh at. But he was making good on his promise to cut off the head of the beast, giving Sarah her money back and ending the bet before anyone really got hurt. It could fade into obscurity, just be something no one even remembered anymore. 

“You were almost to the finish line,” John B teased, feeling shockingly okay with a bet he’d first made when he was drunk and barely coherent enough to walk. “I mean, unless you don’t think she’ll let you get that far-”

“Shut up.” JJ snapped. “I said I was done, so I’m done.”

“Why?” Sarah pried.  

“I thought it would be funny but it’s not. She’s a real person, I’m not gonna fuck with her just so you guys can laugh.” JJ replied. He’d been feeling guilty about the bet since that first day he saw you in the church. The way you looked at him, a mirrored image of his own restlessness, depression, and emptiness. He didn’t deserve you on a good day, when he was completely devoted to you with no ulterior motive at the back of his head.  

He couldn’t do this to you, make you the butt of the joke to every pogue who heard about the bet and was enough of an asshole to find it funny. On his second time around the thought, he knew he really couldn’t do that to anyone. But John B thought it was funny and he and Sarah had used JJ’s lack of funds and general ‘go-with-the-flow’ attitude as a means to an end. 

“You’d do it if she was some kook.” Sarah commented, counting the 20’s he’d handed over. 

“Well she’s not.” JJ snapped, “look, I’m giving you the fucking money back, bet’s off.”

“Dude-“

“He said it was over John B, just quit being a dick.” Kiara piped up. She hadn’t been there when the bet was made but she had heard about it after the fact and been pissed. She was only relieved now that JJ seemed ready to put the bet to rest.  

“She might like you now but it won’t last.” Sarah said when JJ started to walk away, “I mean, you guys have nothing in common JJ, do you really think she fits in at keggers or sitting around getting high all day?”

JJ stood there, jaw tense, clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms, face turning red. The anger was just insecurity because, yeah, he agreed with Sarah. He knew he didn’t have a lot to offer you but hearing her say it knocked him down a peg and had him seeing red. 

“Just go,” Kiara urged, grabbing JJ’s arm and pushing at him, trying to get him to turn around and leave, “go.” She would yell at them for him, a much better defender of his character than he was. 

The door slammed behind him, the spring on the old wooden screen creaking in protest when JJ threw it shut as he left, already brushing tears out of his eyes as he walked, cutting through the woods back to the cut. It was stupid to get so upset about something Sarah said but he couldn’t help it. He’d been worked up as it was over calling off the bet and Sarah had only made him feel worse. 

Despite that, or maybe because of it, JJ took the path through the woods that led to the church. Taking a walk to cool down worked for everyone in the world but him, the further through the woods he walked the angrier he got. At himself, at Sarah and John B, at everything that made him take that stupid bet in the first place. The only thing keeping his anger in check was the thought of you. Sitting in the church practicing the piano or hanging laundry outside. Anywhere he could stay just out of sight of your parents, relishing in your attention.  

JJ came up on the church, not thinking to look inside before he entered. All he was thinking about was seeing you, forgetting entirely that you were not the only one who lived on the property. He stopped at the end of the aisle, still a little worked up, and caught off guard by the sight of your dad at the altar, rehearsing his sermon for Sunday. He tried to back up but failed, his clumsiness catching your dad’s attention.  

“Can I help you?” He called out when JJ bumped into one of the pews, the sound of his boot colliding with the wood reverberating in the nave. 

“Sorry,” JJ spoke up, “sorry I-“

“You came to church a few Sundays ago?” Your dad said, recognizing JJ’s face when he stepped off the altar and walked down the aisle. The blond, he realized, was the boy he’d noticed watching you. Though his wife told him he was being crazy, he was certain that he’d seen the boy in the yard once after that. 

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, sniffling a little to clear the congestion from crying, “wrong turn on the way to the smoke shop I guess.” He was sure his face was still red, eyes still bloodshot, and the last thing he wanted to do was get cornered into some weird testimonial moment with your dad. He just wanted to see you, to remind himself that what Sarah said was bullshit, that you liked him, that this was more than a bet.  

“Is there something I can help you with now?” Everyone always said how welcoming and charismatic your dad was. The church wouldn’t have half the congregation it did now if it wasn’t for your dad’s ability to reel people in with smiles and an easy-going personality. 

That ease was not present as he stood there sizing up JJ. The kid gave him a bad feeling and he was absolutely certain he’d seen flashes of him around the yard before. The teenage population on the island was not a group your father was a fan of and JJ seemed the perfect embodiment of all the things wrong with that group. He looked unkempt, a little worse for the wear, and he smelled like pot. 

Before JJ could say anymore, the doors to the church opened and you walked in, eyes wide at finding your boyfriend there, “uh, mom said to call you for lunch?” You said. 

For his part, the second the door opened, JJ’s attention had snapped that way, and there you were. Exactly who he had been looking for and he felt like he could breath, like things would be alright because you were right there and he shouldn’t be so conspicuous but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Like a magnet.  

“Of course,” he seemed to recover his bad mood relatively quick though he glared at the back of JJ’s head when he realized the boy was staring at you. “Go ahead back to the house and tell your mom I’ll be in.” 

You kept your eyes on your dad, not daring to look at JJ, “should I ask her to set an extra space?” Your dad had always been a fan of inviting church members in for dinner or lunch when they stopped by with something, you weren’t sure if it was compensation for a dwindling household or if he just liked to seem approachable but you used it against him now. If you had looked at him, you’d have noticed the slow smirk on JJ’s face as he stood there. 

If your dad said no it reflected badly on him. He always guilted you about not being helpful enough or considerate enough. “If...” he trailed off, clearing his throat to get JJ’s attention as he waited for a name. 

“JJ...JJ Maybank.” 

The frown increased in size; he’d heard the last name before. He’d hired a Maybank to do work on the roofing a few years back and remembered the man being nothing but a mean drunk. “If JJ wants to stay, we would love to have him.”

“I’ve got no where to be,” JJ replied, grinning at your dad. 

Lunch had already been finished when you went to call your dad, needing only to be plated, something you were thankful for because the awkward and uncomfortable silence that settled between JJ and your dad was unbearable. There was no way you could’ve survived waiting through lunch prep with the two of them.  

You weren’t even entirely sure what JJ was doing there. He hadn’t mentioned seeing you, he was supposed to be spending the day with his friends, as he’d already told you the night before when he snuck over because “couldn’t stay away”. He’d invited you on the boat but both your parents were home all day so there was little chance that you could go anywhere without drawing attention to yourself. Weekends were easier, your brothers and sisters who had stayed close came over with their kids and if you left no one missed you. But during the week it was just the three of you, an odd adjustment after so many years with so many kids.  

You sat at the table across from JJ, doing your absolute best not to look at him, knowing he was staring at you just to piss off your dad, who had already mentioned your upcoming engagement twice. Your mom let your dad lead the conversation like she always did and didn’t object to his over excessive mention of Timothy.  

“Do you go to the high school then?” She was doing her best to be polite, not completely certain your dad’s paranoia was based on fact. (“Just because you say you saw him in the yard doesn’t mean you saw him in the yard.”)

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, “sometimes.” He took another bite of the sandwich, “hey, this is really good, you’re a really good cook.”

While The Wreck technically counted as homemade because it was Kiara’s dad who made it, JJ hadn’t eaten a real, home cooked meal, in a long time. His mom, when she had been around in his childhood, was not making lunches or any meals for him that she couldn’t microwave.  

“Oh, Ace made it.” Your mom said, beaming at you, “she’s a natural in the kitchen.” 

“You’ve been-“ JJ stopped himself short of saying you’d been holding out on him, coughing and then continuing on, “it’s good.”

“Thank you,” you chanced a glance up and then quickly back down at your plate. 

Lunch was excruciating and when it was finally over, JJ leaving and your dad watching him walk back into the woods, you told your parents you weren’t feeling well and went to lay down. You were flushed all over from lunch, sitting there across from JJ with your parents in the room. It was like knowing a secret you knew you weren’t supposed to. 

Tapping sounded on your window and you opened it, JJ standing there outside, “you’re gonna get me trouble,” you whispered. “My dad is convinced he’s seen you around our yard.”

“That’s cause he has.” JJ replied, kissing you once he was inside the room. 

“I know that.” You whispered, “what are you doing?”

“I’m reading your love letter from Timmy,” he shrugged, sitting down at your desk and pulling the letter out of the envelope. 

“It’s not a love letter,” you huffed. When you got close enough to try and take the letter away JJ spun in the chair, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his lap. 

“Let’s see, oh, coming to visit?” JJ said, poking your sides as he read the letter, leaving kisses along your shoulder. “So you get to go on a date?”

“Well, chaperoned.” You replied. “My dad wants to go somewhere ‘outer banks’ style, whatever he thinks that is, to show off to Timothy and his parents.” 

“Go to the Wreck.” JJ said. 

“I’m not going to Kie’s, I’m not gonna embarrass myself.” 

“Trust me,” JJ insisted, kissing you, “go to the Wreck.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it back out of his face and kissing him. Your hands moved down so you could hold his face, leaning your forehead against his.  

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his warm skin against yours.  

“I don’t want to do this.” You admitted, “I don’t wanna have dinner with Timmy.”  

“Hey,” JJ pulled his face away, tilting so he could look you in the eye, “That shit doesn’t mean anything.”  

“It does in the long run,” you replied. When you had gotten Timothy’s letter that morning you’d been more than upset, knowing he was coming to North Carolina felt like the last nail in the coffin before your dad was sending you off to Tennessee.  

“Do you like him?” He asked, matter of fact.

“No, no.” You shook your head. There was no way you had any feelings toward Timothy other than mild annoyance. He wasn’t bad but he wasn’t for you. And maybe he would’ve been if this was all there was but you had JJ and there was an entire other space out there. “I wish we could just…stay like this.”

“Me too.” JJ replied.  

You pulled away from him suddenly, remembering the way he’d looked when you had walked into the church and found him there with your father. “I forgot, you were upset earlier-”

“It’s fine, it was just a dumb fight with John B.” He insisted, “I’m over it.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything.” You promised. You had been secret keeper and confidant for your siblings plenty of times over the years and while their conflicts had never really been worthy the secrecy, you had still been good at the task.  

“I’m fine, I promise,” he repeated, “I was just upset and I wanted to see you.”

“Well you’re seeing me now,” you teased, holding his face again so you could kiss him, “though I think you should consider leaving before anyone comes to check on me.”

-

The Wreck was totally not where you wanted to be going on a chaperoned first date with a guy who looked almost more sheltered than you felt on a regular basis. He had khakis and a polo tucked in, spikey blond hair and you were trying so hard not to be mean in your head. This was the guy your parents thought would make a great addition to their family. This was your future husband?

Any concerns or reservations you had about Timothy went out the window as you walked into the Wreck ahead of him and realized that JJ and Pope were sitting at the counter. JJ turned in his stool as you came in, propping his chin on his hand and smiling at you. 

“Hey,” Kiara had donned jeans and a t-shirt for the occasion, “six?” 

“Actually, these two will have their own table.” Your mom piped up and you looked at Kiara, attempting to convey the absolute horror of the early evening dinner.  

“Of course,” she said, grabbing menus. You could hear your father behind you, mentioning JJ’s presence in the restaurant. Whether Kiara heard it or JJ had just requested that this be the most difficult first date to get through, the table she sat you at was facing the counter. Your parents sat two tables over with Timothy’s parents while you sat down in perfect view of JJ and Pope.  

“So, what’s good here?” Timothy asked, his voice an octave higher than he looked like it would be.

You scanned the menu as if you ate there all the time and then looked at Kiara, hoping she could offer more of an answer then you could.  

“The grits are good, we do them with sausage and shrimp.” Kiara replied.  

“That’s fine.” You handed off your menu, not bothering to consider another option. Even though Kiara knew that this was all something you had to do, you felt a sense of guilt, sitting there with Timothy while JJ was sitting at the counter.  

It was palpable, you felt like you could taste it in your mouth as you spoke, felt the guilt dripping off you. Timothy wasn’t the worst, probably, and, probably, in someone else’s life he would make them happy but you weren’t sure there was any reality that would allow you to walk away from what you had with JJ and resign yourself to this life. To your mom’s life, or your sisters’ lives.  

“I’ve been looking into getting my pilot’s license, I’ll be done seminary soon-” Timothy started to say after Kiara walked off.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were interested in becoming a pilot.” You replied, glancing over his shoulder at JJ who was turned around in his stool, his back against the counter, watching you. If your dad wasn’t facing the opposite direction you were certain he’d be having a fit right now.  

“...the plane license would take another year at least but it’s something I can easily pursue after the marriage and it would allow us the opportunity to be missionaries-”

“Missionaries?” You paled, focusing your attention back on Timothy and away from JJ.  

“Timmy’s older brother is ministering in Zambia and they’ve always talked about Timmy joining him,” his mom cut in.  

“Missionaries in Zambia...all the time?” You asked. Your father had already launched into a separate conversation about the importance of ministry work and you felt close to absolute collapse. When Kiara came back to the table to make sure the food was okay you practically clung to her, “bathroom?”

“Through the kitchen,” Kiara lied, noting the look of distress. “Our regular bathroom is being fixed.”  

“Thanks.” You bolted. Through the restaurant and the kitchen, right out the back door and you might’ve run all the way home but somehow JJ was right there, grabbing you as you collided with him. “I can’t do this...I can’t, I can’t....I can’t be a missionary! I can’t live in Zambia and have like thirteen kids and name them all something stupid and have poufy fucking hair!”  

“Whoa, hey, babe,” JJ urged, pulling you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s gonna be okay.”  

“What if it’s not?” You could keep pretending like you didn’t have to think about it but the truth was, you couldn’t run from your parents’ expectations and plans forever. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” JJ promised, kissing the side of your head as he stood there holding you, “I love you. And I don’t give a shit about Timmy, or your parents, or whatever...we’ll figure this out.”

“This was a bad idea, having lunch here.”

“Hey, I don’t think so. I got to hear you curse for the first time.” He joked. “We’ll be okay, just head back inside alright?”

“Okay,” you pulled away, fixing your hair and taking a deep breath, trying to right yourself. It was just dinner. It wasn’t Zambia yet. It wasn’t even the wedding. Just dinner and JJ was right there. “Oh, JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” You said before hurrying back inside, leaving him standing behind the Wreck with a sad smile on his face.  

-

“Scarlett does it every year with some of the kooks, like a raffle.” Sarah explained, recounting Scarlett’s ’Touron Game’ for JJ and John B, “500 to whoever gets the most tourons...they have like a scoring system. Kind of awful, I guess, but...I mean it’s not like they don’t know it’s just sex.”

“500?” JJ asked, “I could use that.”

“What are you gonna do, pimp yourself out?” John B joked.

“I’ll give you 200,” Sarah replied immediately, cutting her boyfriend off. She was looking across the parking lot of the convenience store.  

“What’s the catch?” JJ asked, following Sarah’s line of sight to the old minivan, a girl their age standing with her mom at the trunk.  

“That’s the weird pastor’s daughter, right?” Sarah asked, already knowing the answer, “get her to sleep with you. I’ll even give you the 200 dollars up front.”

“Yeah okay. It’s a deal.”  

-

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[levihantrash]

new chapter update!

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1: Free Bread

Chapter 2: New Friends

Like routine, Levi found himself waiting for a certain professor to show up. When Erwin called out to him, he couldn’t help but search behind the tall, imposing figure.

“I haven’t seen Hange this morning either,” Erwin said. Levi found himself irritated by Erwin’s discernment and by his own discrete uneasiness.

“Good morning, Erwin,” Levi greeted, nonetheless.

Hange was late, which Levi figured wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

The morning passed without a single sign of Hange.

“Sorry, are you Mr. Levi?” A nervous-looking person approached him, holding on to a well-wrapped steamed bun. A twinge of hope stirred in Levi.

“Levi will do,” he said.

“Dr. Hange said I should pass you this,” the bread-holder blurted out.

Levi’s gaze softened. “Where’s Hange?”

“Oh! She’s rushing a deadline and insisted that I pass you this bread.”

The inexplicable rush of relief made Levi dizzy as he grasped the bread limply. “Huh. Sorry that you have to be an errand boy today.”

“It’s no trouble!”

“Who are you?”

“Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Moblit, their teaching assistant! Dr. Hange helps me out with my master’s thesis because they’re my advisor. This is just my way of saying thanks. Dr. Hange also treats me to meals, gives me detailed comments for my work… though they might go overboard when it comes to giving speeches about the importance of world-building and honing your craft, it’s inspiring how dedicated they are in what they do.”

Moblit took a deep breath, making up for lost air in between the lengthy, whole-hearted sentences.

“Is that so…” Levi said, suddenly contemplative. “Do you want some tea?”

“Are you getting it from the staff pantry?”

“No, that stuff’s stale as shit. I have better tea, wait here.”

Levi recalled Erwin asking him in front of everyone in the staffroom if he wanted the staffroom snacks. Hange followed up, speaking at a volume that was clear enough for most of the staff to overhear, orchestrating a deliberate conversation with Erwin.

“Since there are no hard rules as to who the snacks and drinks are catered for, and technically, Levi is a staff member, he should have access to the snacks!”

None of the professors objected. It was probably because open prejudice would be socially unacceptable, Levi thought.

Begrudgingly, he accepted Erwin’s offer, and in full view of everyone, took a candy bar.

Hange gasped. “Just one?” Levi glared at them.

“Aren’t the snacks for your little sister?” Hange asked. He nodded, sensing the collective spike in sympathy for him in the staffroom.

After the whole stage, the trio huddled conspicuously in a corner outside the staffroom.

Hange whispered to Levi, “You could have played along better!”

“Erwin’s tired of your skit,” Levi said, overwhelmed and annoyed at the turn of events.

“No he’s not!” Hange said sternly, before gulping down half a bottle of water.

Erwin, standing in between them, told Hange to keep it down.

“Thanks, you two.” Levi found himself staring at the floor, embarrassed that his two friends had to construe him as a pitiful character for him to get a few snacks, even though he had been informed of the plan prior.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hange said, their lips compressed into a hard, grim line. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t even get snacks and refreshments as part of the staff.”

“I’m used to it.”

“If anyone’s giving you a hard time, you have us,” Hange said, still put off.

They squared their shoulders impressively. “Right Erwin?”

“You can rely on us, Levi,” Erwin surmised, equally sombre.

Growing more ruffled by their declarations, Levi hissed, “I don’t need two bodyguards.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Hange joked. “Some people have told me about the deathly aura you emit that I must have missed…”

Fixing their attention at a vague distance, Hange’s playful jibes dwindled into an idle pondering, “I wonder if you found some joy in our companionship at least.”

They’re talking about joy and friendship again… Levi thought.

He found himself back in the present, handing a cup of black tea to Moblit, guiding him towards a bench.

Moblit squeaked out, “Thank you!”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, betraying none of his real curiosity.

“Hange gave me a description…” Moblit began, not making eye contact with Levi.

“Did they? What’s the description?” Knowing Hange’s brand of humour, Levi braced himself.

Moblit shuffled in his seat, terribly reluctant. “They said to look out for a cold, black-haired man with an undercut, wearing an apron, gloves and brandishing a mop while scolding people to not step on wet floors.” Levi made a mental note to strangle Hange.

Moblit quickly supplemented, “You’re not actually cold though!”

“How would you know that?”

“Um… you’re offering me tea?”

Levi clicked his tongue. “That’s a low bar for human decency. You should have higher standards.”

“You’re right, Mr. Levi… I mean Levi.”

Levi noted Moblit’s jittery manner when he briefly checked his phone for a message and let out a small groan.

“Hey, you look worried sick. You didn’t receive a death threat, did you?”

Moblit laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. “Uh, you see, I’m one of the editors for the bi-annual literary magazine and we’ve been looking for illustrators…”

“I take it that you haven’t been successful?”

“Yes… I just received someone’s rejection. It’s okay, we’ll find one,” Moblit said, although his panicked lip-biting ran contradictory to his optimistic statement. Levi’s hands twitched again. He folded them promptly into his apron pockets.

Upon finishing the tea, Moblit stood up and gave a tiny, polite bow. “It was nice meeting you Levi. Thanks for listening and for the tea!”

“Good luck,” Levi said, in time before Moblit rushed off.

Bagging up the rubbish, Levi heaved the load on his shoulder easily, only to be startled by the appearance of Hange.

“Fuck! Can you stop jumping out of nowhere?” Though momentarily disconcerted, the tension built up from the day unwound instantaneously, leaving his body loose and feeble.

“Levi! Did you shit yourself?” Hange sang. They accidentally bumped into the gigantic rubbish bag, falling butt-first onto the ground, phone in hand.

“Be careful,” Levi said, in the same monotonous voice he used regardless of the situation. Unless the situation involved Hange leaping out of nowhere. He looped his free arm under their armpit to pull them back up. Hange, flushed from running, placed their phone in his hands with ill-contained excitement.

“Look at what I found!”

“Oi, what’s this—” Levi scanned the phone, his mouth running dry.

“I’m going to recruit this artist. For my comic.”

It was a sketch of a cat being patted by a person with messy, tied-up hair, their hands stroking its head.

“Don’t you think the person looks familiar? Isn’t the cat cute… remember how I told you I have one at home?” Hange released their brown hair from a voluminous ponytail, biting the rubber band in their mouth.

He swallowed. “I drew that.”

Hange’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding!”

“Do I look like I make such shit jokes?”

“Personally, I find your shitty jokes very funny. This is exciting news! Why didn’t you tell me you’re an artist when I was trying to find one for my comic?”

Levi found her question preposterous. “You could easily find a better one. I’m inexperienced.”

“I’m also an inexperienced writer. I barely wrote one book and a few articles!”

“You’re a professor. You have the title for a reason. I just draw for fun.”

Hange spared him a baffled look. “Please. You have no idea how many great writers never become professors. And how some professors never write great books. I thought you of all people would know that a title doesn’t mean anything.”

“I thought you of all people would know that titles hold their value here, even if we think they’re stupid and don’t mean shit.”

“I know that, Levi. I’m saying, drawing for fun doesn’t make you inexperienced or unworthy of being the artist for my comic. Besides, I chose you before I even knew it was you!” Hange said triumphantly.

Locking the phone screen, Levi reiterated, “I draw for fun.”

“Then this will be our fun project!”

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

“You won’t be broke.” Erwin slipped into their conversation as though he had always been there. It was uncanny.

“What do you mean?” Levi stared questioningly at Erwin.

“You’ll be paid for your work, Levi. Hange as well,” Erwin said simply.

“You’re paying us?” Hange and Levi asked, in unison. One, in disbelief, and the other, in delight.

“A publisher will be paying you. I’ve secured funding.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “A publisher wants to sponsor a comic that hasn’t even been written?”

“I told you, Levi,” Hange interrupted. “I’ve already submitted a draft!”

“Yes,” Erwin said.

Levi had so many questions. “How?”

“Because it’s a good story.”

“Did you bribe them? Threaten them?”

“It is a risk,” Erwin admitted.

“It’s a fucking gamble,” Levi emphasised. “Don’t know why you’re so invested in this comic.”

Hange had other worries. “Levi, did you think I wasn’t going to pay you?”

Levi hesitated. “I don’t know. Isn’t this just a fun side-project?”

Hange’s face came closer to his. With the enhanced proximity, Levi stopped breathing altogether. Their face was deadly solemn.

“Listen, Levi, creating art is hard work. Your hard work. Any artist deserves to be paid. It’s not because our relationship is transactional. It’s because it’s only right.”

Erwin added, “We’re not going to accept your art for free.”

Pushing Hange back firmly with his hands on their shoulders, Levi argued, “Plenty of people have access to my art online for free.”

“That’s your choice. We insist.” Hange grinned. “And we think we deserve to be paid too. Even I’m surprised that my project has early compensation.”

Part of Levi’s resolve ebbed away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me!”

“First, you have to tell me what your story is.” Levi gathered up the last of his self-respect. “And if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need your number.”

Erwin raised an innocent eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you need mine too?”

“Stop teasing him, Erwin,” Hange said, grabbing the rubbish bag from Levi, struggling to balance its weight over their shoulders.

Just as Levi felt a shred of gratitude, Hange remarked, “What if he doesn’t agree to do the comic together?”

Patience running thin, Levi stomped on both their feet in a fit of unrestraint that diverged from his unaffected demeanour.

Eyes twinkling, Hange couldn’t help but feel immense glee at the prospect of working with Levi. What was probably Levi’s withheld strength made them certain that he only wanted to dirty their shoes, not bruise their toes. Like Hange would care about the cleanliness of their battered sneakers.

In front of an ordinary apartment door, Hange dug into the depths of their bag to fish out a ring of keys. The size of the ring was unprecedentedly big; the choice of keychain most definitely random, a freebie handed out to new staff that blatantly displayed the university’s name.

Without that much bribery of tea, bread, and friendship, Levi found himself standing beside Hange as they busied themselves in finding the key to their apartment. Erwin had bailed due to having another Important Meeting with Important People, even during a weekend, but encouraged Hange and Levi to take time to discuss the comic.

Hange hadn’t expected Levi to agree so readily to kickstarting the project, and with the generous reception Levi gave (a curt nod and a follow-up question), they thought it’d be best if they invited him over to their apartment. Just so he wouldn’t mistake Hange as a mere business partner. Now that would be upsetting.

Hange pushed the ludicrous speculation out of their head. Levi was first and foremost, a good friend. His bored appearance revealed glimpses of surprise, satisfaction, moodiness, and suspicion. Hange held on to these pieces with the determination to collect them all. Surely, Levi must have figured them out by now. This endless, unabashed interest Hange had taken in him.

“Why are we meeting at your place? Do you need to take a huge shit? Does the toilet at home have a better flush?”

Although Levi had no qualms about visiting Hange’s apartment, he found it unnerving to have a work discussion in someone’s living quarters. It felt too intimate, too casual. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being sucked in further into Hange’s life. They asked so many questions, yet barely answered any about themselves.

Whether intentionally or not, Hange was someone shrouded in mystery to Levi. He couldn’t ask questions either—he wouldn’t—because he was unaccustomed to expressing himself in front of people. More than that, he could envision Hange’s sharp wit poking a clean hole through his muted facade. “You’re interested in my life, Levi?” Damn that four-eyes for being so perceptive. Or was he so easy to read?

“It’s more fun,” Hange said, eventually stuffing the correct key into the keyhole, a smooth click welcoming them. “Plus, I want to introduce you to my friends! Part of the reason why I took up the position at this university.”

“Friends?” Levi asked, slipping out of his shoes to step into the apartment.

“Hange!” A voice rang, and Hange was wrapped in a hug.

“Onyankopon! I saw you yesterday—”

“Three days ago, to be exact, since you always sleep over on the lovely desk at the university.” A smooth voice entered, coming from a woman standing comfortably against the wall.

As the tallest body let go of Hange, it allowed Levi to take in the congenial features of a man whose shoulders rivalled Erwin’s towering, well-built stature. While Erwin’s smile was measuredly cordial, Onyankopon’s was candidly sincere. Watching Hange and Onyankopon, Levi felt as though he were intruding into a family reunion that had invited the entire neighbourhood. Here, he was the guest who came for the free flow of food and drinks.

“I’ve missed you too Pieck!” The woman named Pieck ruffled Hange’s hair, offering them an embrace.

Hange pulled Levi by the elbow, pointing to the new people. “Meet my roommates and college friends, Onyankopon and Pieck!”

“Hi,” Levi said, uncertain as to what else he could affix his terse greeting with. Hange resolved that predicament for him, going into further details about their friends.

“Onyankopon is a researcher and engineer! I can’t tell you the technical specifics of what he does, though, I always get them wrong. Oh, and he’s religious, but he won’t try to convert you.” Onyankopon nodded, affirming Hange’s unflattering introduction.

“Pieck… Pieck is a gardener, florist, and avid gamer! That’s why she’s always bent over, whether it’s tending to her plants or her high score in front of the monitor.”

“It’s not why I need the crutches though,” Pieck said. Hange squeezed her shoulders in response.

“Seems like my friends are all nerdy. Maybe that’s why I like them?” A sheepish smile graced Hange’s lips.

Onyankopon gestured towards Hange, imitating their dramatic flourish. “And this is Hange Zoe, the nerdiest of them all. Obsessed with words. Recently obsessed with science fiction. They’re always reading or writing, and once they start on something, their butt doesn’t leave the chair.”

Levi’s eyes flitted around the apartment—it was relatively tidy, with a couple of framed photos and artworks. A blanket on the couch made it homely enough. His inspection didn’t miss Hange’s notice.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s neat,” he replied.

“That’s a compliment!” Hange took care to disclose this to their two friends.

“All your previous partners don’t take off their shoes, Hange. I hope he isn’t one of those.” Pieck said, using their crutch to relocate Hange’s haphazard shoes to a corner, flipping them the right side up. Levi liked her already.

“That’s gross,” Levi said apathetically, wiping away the horrifying image of dirt-smeared carpets and tiles creeping into his consciousness.

“He’s very clean, don’t worry,” Hange said easily. “Some might even say it’s his obsession.”

“I’m the cleaner at the university.” Onyankopon and Pieck turned towards Hange with patented disapproval.

“Levi, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think we’ll make good friends,” Pieck said, bemused.

Hange beamed at Levi. “You’ll love Pieck! She’s really quiet most of the time, just like you. Not to mention she pretends that she hates me. Just like you.”

“Good to know,” Levi said, enjoying the banter a bit too much.

“Hange says she’s going to get you to draw me, as a titan,” Pieck said, evidently sceptical.

“What’s a titan?”

“The giant, naked people I told you about, Levi! They’re called titans!”

“Why are they called titans?”

Hange landed on the sofa with a plop, patting the seat beside them for Levi to sit. “In Greek mythology, titans are immortal giant gods who were banished to the underground.”

Levi, who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, made a mental note to search for references online.

“Therefore, the titans are kind of like vengeful giant gods from the underground who have come to earth to wreak havoc on what the gods have built, which is human civilisation, basically.”

“Basically, I am wonderful enough to be titan-material,” Pieck drawled, propping their crutch at the side of the couch, sliding onto the cushions.

“A special titan that walks on all fours! Um, that’s the plan for now,” Hange said brightly.

Onyankopon, who had been content with listening, clapped his hands together in sudden realisation. “Hange, now that you’re finally home, you can take a shower.”

“I should, right?” Hange scratched their head, feeling the slickness of unwashed neglect.

Levi crinkled his nose as Hange reluctantly made their way to the bathroom. “That’s disgusting.”

“And here you are, still.” Pieck’s amiable statement prickled at his skin like a light warning before impending exposure.

“Hange must really want to make a good impression if they’re showering now,” Onyankopon said, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Onyankopon pushed a newly made cup of tea towards Levi, with the steady confidence that could only come from having known prior that it was the beverage that Levi would desire. “Make yourself at home.”

Levi said his thanks, to the hospitality of two people he scarcely knew, and to Hange, who likely told them about the tea.

Cold water blasted them in the face, as Hange became cognizant of the necessity of showering more regularly. It wasn’t like they thrived in the dirt. Hypothetically, showering wasn’t that troublesome. The shower kept forgetting itself until it was three days later and Hange stank with regret and mild self-loathing. Still, the shower felt good, giving them new clarity about the fact that they had invited Levi into their inner social circle. How would he fare? Would he be uncomfortable? Hange massaged shampoo into their hair, recalling their conversation with Pieck and Onyankopon.

After much elaboration on adapting to a new university, their visits to an amazing bakery, and the fostering of daily encounters with new friends, Pieck had caught on that every other sentence from Hange contained a sliver of Levi-sized anecdotes. The new university was so much bigger than the one Pieck, Onyankopon, and Hange had attended together; it stretched endlessly, and Hange estimated that Levi would have walked 393700.7874 steps to clean just the faculty building. The bakery near the university was fragrant, its selection marvellous, and choosing a new bread for Levi every day was a tremendously delightful task. Moreover, Hange had met so many unique characters since getting to know the people in their faculty, people like Levi whose abhorrence for social etiquette was admirable, and with whom she was eager to share their mornings and lunches. Together with Erwin, of course.

Pieck let out a tinkle of a laugh at Hange’s obliviousness. “Why are you friends with Levi?”

Thinking hard, Hange answered, “I don’t know if he thinks of us as friends.”

“Well, friendship status aside, how’s he like?”

“He’s kind. He doesn’t sound like it, but he’s kind.”

“That’s nice. How’s he kind?”

Confusion coloured Hange’s usual confidence. “Hmm. It’s gut-feeling, I guess.”

“That’s unlike you, to rely solely on instincts,” Onyankopon said, stroking his chin. Hange was a person with an abundance of rationale, a reason for everything, with justification for any ideas. Their reasoning this time fell flat.

Pieck prodded on. “You said that he doesn’t sound kind. Then what does he sound like?”

“Grumpy, sarcastic, serious. He looks like he’s annoyed with everyone. Most people find him scary, I suppose? It’s like he wants people to think he’s an asshole.”

Pieck perked up. “Oh, so you’ve become enamoured with broody, misunderstood people who’re rough around the edges?”

“Pieck, come on, I’m not writing my own romantic trope! I don’t know… he’s a good person. I can tell. He doesn’t say much though.”

“You’re a mind-reader now?”

Hange ignored her. “His art… it’s so evocative. Melancholic. Hopeful. Angry.”

“What was the artwork you last saw of his?”

“A cat,” Hange said immediately.

Onyankopon brought Hange back to reality. “What about him? What do you like about him? Not his art.”

Hange pursed their lips. “Do good people need to prove themselves to show that they’re good?”

“There could be reasons as to why you’re so adamant about his golden character,” Onyankopon said.

“He’s reliable. And his shit jokes aren’t so bad once you get used to it.” Hange surprised themselves with that comment—Levi’s relentless toilet humour was infecting their brain. The corrosive force of the word “shitty” had already moulded itself permanently into their vocabulary.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hange bent their arms behind their head. “It’s hard to find people to truly get along with.”

Onyankopon and Pieck shared a knowing look.

With their eyes trained to the white ceiling plaster, Hange mumbled on, “it would be nice if he’d talk more openly about what he’s feeling. It’s all guesswork and I’m afraid I’m constantly reading him wrong.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice…” Onyankopon said gently.

“But I do talk about my feelings!”

“Monologuing in your room and reposting vague lines of poetry and sending us memes to cope with your avoidance is not the same as talking about your feelings,” Pieck said, spending the subsequently long moment of silence to snip off a yellowed leaf from the potted Monstera deliciosa next to the kitchen counter.

“Wow.” Hange, for once, had nothing to muster.

Onyankopon’s approach was less incisive than Pieck’s. “You know, I don’t think you need a reason to be friends with someone. If he’s making you happy, I think it’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Onyankopon,” Hange said gratefully.

“But Pieck’s right about you being deliberately evasive with your own emotions. Introspection shouldn’t be so strenuous, right? Don’t you write about your characters’ internal turmoil often?”

“It’s different when you’re reflecting for yourself,” Hange contended.

“We’ll see how Levi’s like anyway, when we meet him,” Pieck said, grabbing the scissors, going towards another deadened leaf.

“Don’t bully him!”

Another snip. Another leaf fell. “Isn’t he supposed to be scary?”

Hange smiled wryly. “But you two are scarier.”

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 5

Well, I guess Alex is going through the motions. I am really starting to love how well-rounded this is getting. Flirty fics are fun, but they always need heart and perseverance!

Chapter

1 - 2- 3 - 4

Fuck. Why did she do that? Alex wanted to toss her phone but knew she couldn’t afford a new one yet. Memories. Social media keeps track even if you don’t. She was bundled on the ground of the bathroom she just cleaned and sobbed.

All she wanted to do was look at this real estate agent that Lucifer texted her. She glanced down at the picture of her and her mother while she was getting dressed for prom. Would she be upset that she was thinking of selling their home? Would she be proud? She felt so fucking alone.

There was a knock at the bathroom door, and she stuttered on a breath. Fucking get it together, girl. She wiped her face and nodded. “I’ll be out momentarily,” she said in a cheery tone.

Breathe. Stand up. Bitch, buck the fuck up, you’re at work. Alex listened to her inner dialog, turned on the water to the sink, cleaned her hands and face, and fixed her makeup. After she was satisfied, she picked up her tool tote and walked to the door with a plastered smile.

Solomon was on the other side of the door. “Hey, Alex,” he said with a curl to his lips.

“Hey, Sol, how are you doing?” she asked.

“Not horribly. I’m a bit stuck on this formula, but it’s bound to come to me,” he voiced while walking in step with her.

She rocked her head and shifted at the entrance to the counter. “Let me just go put this away and clock out. We can chat a minute after I’m off the clock.”

He rocked his head and leaned on the wall nearby. “Want to take a walk with me?”

She tilted her head and hummed. “Maybe.”

“Good, I’ll order, and we’ll head to the park.”

“Oh, good, we’re taking a walk to the park?”

Alex glanced over to see Satan wander over with his tea and pastry bag. “Oh, hey, Satan. I didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head and gestured to his messenger bag. “I was grading pages.”

Solomon crossed his arms before touching his chin with his fingers. “You want to join us?”

Satan rocked his head. “A little fresh air would be great.”

“Okay, let me just go finish up,” Alex smiled and walked to the back of the shop. Well, it was quite the variation, but after how interesting her Sunday had been, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. She turned to the computer after putting the tote away and clocked out. Shaking out her body and taking off her apron and hat, she rolled her neck.

There was something to be said about the smears on her uniform. Alex stripped off her overshirt and straightened her purple tank top, and pulled out her ponytail. After checking her face in the mirror and reapplying a few touches on her eyeliner and lip gloss, she was ready.

Better. Alex smiled and collected her bag before marching to the front again. Solomon and Satan seemed to be in a discussion about the book in Satan’s hand. Their hand gestures only confirmed the estimation as Alex walked over to collect her drink.

“Hey, babes,” Jess hummed. “Do you think you could do me a favor and take my Friday shift, and I’ll take your Saturday one. It's closing, and I have a date.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yeah, I can. You never ask me to trade, so they must be pretty hot,” she teased.

Jess smirked and rocked her head. “Yeah, Mr. Macchiato, who comes in the evenings.”

“Nice, well, I hope you have tons of fun. Text Jordan and let him know, alright?”

Jess beamed and blew a kiss. “You’re a lifesaver for my social life, hun.”

Alex waved and met up with the two intellectuals holding their beverages. “I’m just saying that Dickens wasn’t as extraordinary as we make him out to be,” Solomon huffed.

“Oh, no, we’re on about Charles again?”

Satan laughed and shook his head as they walked out the door. “Just Solomon’s primary dagger.”

“Solomon, do you just enjoy debating?” Alex asked.

Solomon smiled and shifted his head from side to side. “Occasionally, but so does Satan, so we have a mutual understanding never to take it to blows.”

“I think the Brontë sisters are probably a staple for every woman,” Alex added to the conversation.

“And men,” Satan nodded.

“Very true, but we need to selectively decide what mannerisms are dated in order to value the interpretation,” Solomon voiced.

Alex smirked and raised her hand to her chest. “'Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart!'” She paused after the quote and laughed. “Imagine declaring equality to a man who was higher in rank and stature than you in that time. The dated behavior is only setting.”

Satan let out a stream of hearty laughter. “Oh, Alex, I would have loved to have you in my class today. There was a sexist animal who was definitely in need of a strong female to set him straight.”

“My little Jane isn’t very plain,” Solomon chuckled and waved his hand.

“No, she isn’t,” Alex laughed before sipping her iced tea.

“I was referring to you,” Solomon hummed.

Alex smirked at him and shrugged. “I do pretty well, I suppose.”

Satan cleared his throat, drawing Alex’s attention to her left. “So, you realized that half your customers are my brothers.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yes, I was informed of that by Belphegor in a rather creative way.”

“I heard,” Satan laughed. “We all live together.”

“So I’ve heard,” she smiled.

“Interesting dynamic,” Solomon voiced. “All seven of them together.”

“They also throw some ridiculous parties,” Alex said and then waved her free hand in a circle. “From what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know you live across the street,” Satan snorted with a smug smile. “I’ve known longer than Lucifer.”

Alex gasped as they walked on the sideway in the park. “What?”

Satan chuckled and rocked his head. “Yes, I knew from Jordan. I was the one to buy his motorcycle.”

She shrieked and gasped. “Oh! That’s why I’ve seen it around the cafe.”

Satan wagged his eyebrows. “So yes, I’ve known for about four months. He pulled it out of your garage and brought it over. When I asked why he moved, he told me about your circumstance and why he was torn, but family comes first.”

“It does,” Alex smiled. “His mother was great to me when my parents died. She practically lived with me for the first six months. Then Jordan moved in, and he got me a job at the cafe. He’s always been like my big brother. So when his dad got injured at work and couldn’t work, I told him to move home to help.”

“How did you both meet?” Solomon questioned.

“Oh, that’s a funny story, actually. So, in middle school, he was a grade above me, and I was super shy. He saw me being harassed by some asshole. He stepped in and smoothed the situation. I was so shocked he was able to do so without violence. Jordan took me to the bathroom, cleaned me up, and told me that the only bitches in our life are the beautiful bitches we can be, so I needed to learn to walk like it. From then on, he just started pulling me into his antics,” she explained and laughed while shaking her head.

“You were shy?” Satan questioned.

Alex stopped drinking her tea and nodded. “I actually am in general. I took his advice to heart. I’m friendly and enjoy people, but I don’t have very many people I consider close with.”

“Is this why you aren’t dating anyone?” Solomon questioned.

Alex narrowed her eyes at him and smirked. “Yes.”

“Liar,” Solomon smiled.

“Wait, I really find this fascinating. You aren’t close to any family?” Satan asked.

Alex shrugged and hummed. “My aunts and uncles all live in different parts of the country. I was an only child, and now that my parents aren’t here, the only people I see are Jordan and his parents. Jordan’s sister left for a university across the country two years ago. I see them probably once a month.”

“You live alone? Like no one ever comes to knock on your door or calls your phone?” Satan questioned with a scowl.

“Well, I won’t be living there much longer,” Alex sighed. “I have to sell the place, so I’ll have to clear it out in the next couple of weeks. The financial officer, my parents, left in charge, said that the funds wouldn’t cover the expenses this next year, so it would be a good idea for me to sell.”

“Hm,” Solomon murmured. “I could help.”

“No,” Alex shook her head. “It’s time. I don’t need handouts, Sol. I appreciate it, but no.”

“Why do you feel like you have to do everything alone?” Satan asked as they rounded the outside of the park.

Alex breathed and shook her head. “It’s such a long story.”

“Your parents?” Solomon voiced.

This analysis was cathartic in a way, and Alex felt this heavyweight being pulled from her shoulders. “Well, yes and no. I was telling my mother before she passed that I was thinking of taking a year off to go with my boyfriend at the time to travel the world. She was so supportive, even though it would put my education in jeopardy. When they died, he bailed with some other girl, so I kind of just stopped relying on others.”

Satan tutted and exhaled. “To be an idiot teenager who couldn’t handle grief. I’m sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age.”

Alex smiled and shrugged as they made their way back to the cafe. “I’m pretty good. I have a degree. I’ll have a decent nest egg to pay for my schooling for an even better education and my best friend. I’m doing pretty well.”

“I have an intrigue before we conclude our adventure into your life,” Solomon hummed.

Alex tilted her head as she grinned at him. “What’s that?”

“You are strong without someone, but it makes it so much richer to share your heart with others,” Solomon declared.

“Says the man who has done his fair share of that,” Satan snorted.

Solomon rolled his eyes. “Satan, don’t cast stones in glass houses.”

“You have been married three times now,” Satan snorted.

News. Alex raised her eyebrows. “Three times? Aren’t you like barely forty?”

“I resent that,” Solomon scowled. “No, I am not. However, marriage and love are difficult measurements in a formula very few understand. I’m difficult.”

“I actually like that about you,” Alex laughed.

Satan scowled as they stopped at the sidewalk near the cafe. “You enjoy that he’s difficult, but you won’t text me?” he questioned with a sly smile.

She puffed and pulled his phone from his bag’s pocket. It was sticking out and available. Alex then went to his keypad, dialed her number, and pressed the call. Her phone soon rang, and she hung up.

“Now, you have my number. Stop trying to make me do all the work, you pushy professor,” she snorted and handed his phone back.

Satan was grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Solomon handed her his phone, and she groaned but did the same exact thing. “If you both call me all the time, I will block your number,” she teased.

“If you need any help with your house, please tell me,” Solomon nodded. “I am quite organized.”

“I will,” Alex smiled.

Solomon tossed his cup in the trash and smiled before walking to his car. Alex watched him wave and climb inside before driving off in the silver vehicle. Satan shifted and tilted his head when she turned back to him.

“Did you want to have dinner with me tonight? I’ll cook,” Satan offered.

“Just because we’re temporarily neighbors does not mean I’m a booty call, understood?” Alex questioned.

Satan snorted and straightened his shirt. “You’re far too interesting to blow on a booty call, Alex.”

“Just had to make it clear. I would take your offer for dinner, but I’m actually exhausted. Diavolo came in for a coffee tasting, and I hosted it. Since then, I’ve just been drained.”

Satan rocked his head. “Well, I’ll ask tomorrow then,” he smiled and shrugged. “You’ll eventually say yes,” he chuckled and walked over to the motorcycle.

Alex smiled and observed as he slid on his helmet, waved, and climbed on the bike. Bad boy, professor. Pretty sexy. That tickled her to no end. He pulled out with a roaring shift of gears and headed in the same direction she needed to go. Home. Even if it was just for now.

@rsmrymnt-tea @otome-scribbles

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Yeah, so I read your HP headcanons/analysis and I found it really well put. I was wondering about your thoughts on Dumbledore and who he really was as a person. (It’s okay if you don’t really want to reply :> )

We’re just getting all up into The Carnivorous Muffin headcanon land, aren’t we?

Well, this one’s probably obvious to anyone who reads my work.

I fall on the manipulative Dumbledore side of things and then some. Dumbledore is not only a bastard man but is a raging misogynist and extremely classist (which is funny because I don’t see too many people calling him out for those last two when to me canon all but shouts it at you). 

Basically, what it comes down to, is even taken in very good faith I simply cannot read Dumbledore’s actions as benign in pretty much every single goddamn decision he makes ever.

God, where do I even start here? I guess we can go chronologically.

Well, there was Dumbledore’s Wizard Nazi youth with an oddly Dorian Gray flare to it with Gellert. I think it’s fairly obvious why Dumbledore’s not exactly... good there so I’m going to skip past it. Suffice to say, it took his sister’s death (and maybe murdering his own invalid sister) for Dumbledore to stop planning world domination. Even then it wasn’t so much that world domination was wrong, but because his sister died and he was an asshole.

I’m going to go ahead and include CoG and Fantastic Beasts because I can (CoG, while a terrible movie, actually does entertain me in many ways). Anyways, before the films came out I always considered the younger Dumbledore far more stoic and brooding. He doesn’t get his eccentric persona until after the defeat of Grindelwald and was before then angsty mcangsts and an academic at heart. 

Well, per CoG, apparently he was a budding spy master long before defeating Gellert/Voldemort popped up. We see him manipulating Newt, sending him to Paris as his own agent, WHEN NEWT DOESN’T WANT TO GO AND HAS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT DUMBLEDORE USED HIM INTHE LAST FILM. Dumbledore writes off having used Newt for his own agenda with a charming smile but none the less it paints a pretty grim picture that Albus has always been... Albus. There has always been a greater good out there somewhere and the man is always using someone as a pawn.

Cut to canon and his treatment of Tom Riddle. Frankly, Dumbledore’s treatment of the young Tom Riddle, and even Tom Riddle just before he came Voldemort, is insane. The thought experiment I like to run is “replace Tom in those scenes with Harry Potter”.

Harry was a poor orphan, whose guardians would more than match what Mrs. Cole said about Tom Riddle, who had spurts of accidental magic now and then and enjoyed when his bully cousin was discomfitted. Now, imagine Dumbledore giving Harry his letter, and then pretending to light all of Harry’s possessions on fire to “teach him a lesson”. What the fuck?

Now, am I saying Tom Riddle wasn’t creepy here and that killing a rabbit was terrible. No. But I am saying Dumbledore had a horrible reaction to it and is proud of it years later. (Also, the fact that he uses this memory to convince Harry of how evil Tom is, is hilarious to me. Dumbledore, you were the shit that lit people’s wardrobes on fire. If I was Tom, I’d be upset too). 

Dumbledore is always like this with Tom Riddle. He thinks the worst of Tom even in points where Tom hasn’t done anything. I’m not talking about later when, yes, Tom did live up to Dumbledore’s fears but when Dumbledore treats him like garbage and actively sabotaged Tom’s career.

Anyways, cut to later when the Marauders are in school. One of the big things is that Dumbledore puts up a guerilla resistance gang OF SCHOOL CHILDREN. While most members are older, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter are all only just out of Hogwarts. “Well,” you say, “It’s their choice and they did graduate. Surely Dumbledore wasn’t actually recruiting school children.” I point you towards canon, where Dumbledore convinces three actual school children that the fate of the nation rests on their shoulders and to go fight the good fight. So yes, Dumbledore canonically uses child soldiers and has no regret for doing so.

The other is letting James and Sirius off the hook for the Lupin incident. While Dumbledore talks the talk this showed that he was not willing to walk the walk. True, while getting them into major trouble would have involved outing Lupin (who was innocent in all of this) at the same time they were nearly responsible for the murder of another student. It’s very convenient that Dumbledore lets off the rich son of a lord, two individuals who later end up in the resistance movement (Potter likely funding part of it), and tells the impoverished half blood to sit down and shut up.

And in canon, yes, I believe that Dumbledore absolutely knew what Harry’s home condition was like. While the blood wards are an excuse they aren’t a particularly good one as for most of Harry’s childhood the Death Eaters were all accounted for. Harry was in no extreme danger from them. To not have had an inkling of Harry’s home life (when Harry even hints at it when wanting to stay over the summer, Harry runs away from home in third year, Fred and George see the bars on the window, and he even visits Harry’s home in sixth year) would be such laughable incompetence and stupidity it’s right out.

With that, I absolutely do believe what Snape showed us in the memory, the Dumbledore behind the scenes as it were. That Dumbledore knew fairly early that Harry Potter was a horcrux and began grooming Harry for suicide. Specifically, that’s what sixth year really is. All those memories of Tom Riddle, the pretext to get some memory from Slughorn, it’s an excuse for a smear campaign designed to convince Harry that Tom Riddle is inherently evil and must die at all costs, even Harry’s own life. 

Dumbledore didn’t need that Slughorn memory. Sure, it was useful to know Tom intended to make seven but think about it. How did Dumbledore know there’d be anything remotely useful in there? He doesn’t know that Tom actually drops a number on Slughorn. Even then, he doesn’t know whether Tom actually goes and does it. All of it felt like, “Harry, I have a super secret important mission that only YOU can do. Can you handle it, Harry? Because without this the country is surely doomed” And in that I mean it was an effort to win back Harry’s favor after the previous year meltdown, keep him busy, and start in on the excuse to show Harry some pretty damn innocuous memories of Tom Riddle and go, “See, HE IS EVIL!”

Due to this, I frankly think that the train scene was a hallucination on Harry’s part. Wishful thinking for some gentle explanation of how Dumbledore had not cruelly used him for years and intended his death. 

Well, that and it never made much sense that Dumbledore could predict Harry’s a) becoming the master of death b) miraculous second resurrection.

In the first case, Harry becomes master of death because of wand lore bullshit and happenstance where Harry happens to save Draco’s life. Dumbledore had no idea such a thing would happen. Dumbledore’s plan was for there to be no master of death, as the wand would default to having no owner when Snape defeated Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders. That Draco got the wand is a sort of Deus ex Machina. Sorry guys, Dumbledore intended Harry to die.

More, even then, while Dumbledore was very into the occult of these things we leave canon without any idea if these things are even responsible for his resurrection. They’re just relatively nifty objects with a legend behind them. There was nothing concrete to suggest that, should Harry happen to get all of them, he would be able to rise from the dead.

Otherwise onto the misogyny and classism parts.

In terms of misogyny this is from every time Dumbledore talks about Lily Evans or Merope Gaunt. In the case of Lily, she’s this weird Madonna figure whose love for Harry was so powerful it saved his life. That she also happened to make these blood wards Dumbledore cannot reproduce and extended her protection to Harry wherever he went is irrelevant. It’s her love that counts. That feminine, maternal, love purer than all others.

Basically, Dumbledore seems to be of the belief that women are flowers. The best of women are these demure, selfless, brave women who sacrifice themselves for their children. Yikes, Dumbledore.

Merope’s the really bad one though. Merope’s tale is how she drugged and raped a defenseless muggle for months and then he escaped. Dumbledore spins it into this Victorian tale of woe where Tom Riddle Sr. THE KIDNAPPED RAPE VICTIM is the asshole here who abandoned Merope to the merciless cold world. How dare he. 

It’s very clear that Dumbledore doesn’t see Merope, or women in general, as people. Instead these weird Victorian ideals who can be tragic victims of circumstance.

As for the classism.

While Dumbledore’s very against the pureblood culture we see in the Malfoys a lot of his treatment of Tom Riddle feels very... classist. The big one, which is a little tangential but I say it counts, is Dumbledore’s theory that children of rape are incapable of love. Granted, he’s saying this while convincing Harry to kill himself for the good of the cause and there is a real world parallel in that alcohol/drugs while pregnant is a very bad idea that can lead to extreme mental and physical health disorders. That said, we’re talking love potions at conception, and it always read more as “rape babies” vs. specific drugs. And that is... just yikes on so many levels.

Now, do I agree with manipulative Dumbledore we see in many fics? No, because Dumbledore’s not that stupid.

He doesn’t need to borrow money from Harry’s vault, he doesn’t need to pay off Hermione and Ron to be Harry’s friends, he doesn’t need to choose Harry’s friends for him, he doesn’t need to manipulate Harry’s memories directly. He doesn’t need to do any of this because he got what he wanted just fine in canon.

Dumbledore is one of the smartest characters in canon, far smarter than Harry, and he doesn’t have to stoop to such outrageous schemes to get what he wants. Poorly concealed smear campaigns convincing Harry to commit suicide are more than enough.

[roxa-sos]

always - john b routledge

john b routledge x kook!reader

tw; a little bit of creepy/sexual assaulty and high rafe :( but it’s mainly fluffy john b

request; “John B request! Where the reader is a really popular kook but she’s a super sweet and doey eyed wholesome kook. And John B has always had a crush on her and when he sees her getting picked on by rafe at a party he has to step in. And John b literally does anything the reader says cause he’s whipped and they fall in love after he saves her and when they date he’s just smitten. And jj and pope make fun of him but he doesn’t care cause he’s so infatuated with his girlfriend. He can’t look away🥺”

a/n -- finally i’m writing something other than fuckin angst. my heart needed a break and i need to write about someone other than jj,, thank u for the request anon :) also this is my third consecutive hour of writing so someone stop me-

you had to be one of the only kooks that wasn’t completely against pogues. your parents were sweet, came into honest money, and you liked to think you were raised right. your best friend was sarah cameron, ex best friend was kiara carrera, you two used to be the three staple kook girls, but that faded away in your freshman year... so it was just you and sarah.

you still talked to kiara sometimes. you didn’t call her kie, you didn’t hang out with her parents anymore, but you still talked when given the chance. she didn’t completely hate you, which was nice. she did hate your best friend though, which was kind of a struggle. 

knowing kiara meant that you knew the other pogues. or, at least, you knew they existed. john b routledge was famous for being a damn orphan, jj maybank was the dumbass that mowed your neighbor’s lawn and told dumb jokes, and pope heyward was the guy who your brother was competing with in school. 

being more... in the middle was nice. but at heart, and at trust-fund, you were a kook through and through. 

you, sarah, and her boyfriend topper always went to those beach parties the pogues brought beer to at the boneyard. you and your little sundress and sandals, you screamed kook, but not many people seemed to notice. or care, at least. you split off from sarah and topper once the three of you hit the sand so that you could go and look for beer. 

“that you, l/n?” you heard john b from behind you, and you spun around to see him - him and the beer keg. 

“yeah!” you didn’t really know why he was pointing you out, but it had to be that you looked like a kid lost in a grocery store while looking for the beer keg. you crossed the section of beach between you two, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “got any spare beer?” you asked nonchalantly, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. 

john b cracked a smile, nodding before he reached over to grab a plastic cup for you. “always.” he said, filling the cup up and handing it to you. 

“thanks, john b.” you gave him a sweet smile, one that had him absolutely infatuated with you.

what you didn’t know was that this boy always had his eyes on you whenever you made an appearance to the pogues. sometimes you didn’t even notice they were around, but he did. kiara made fun of him for it, but most of them passed it off as a joke. as if you, one of the kook princesses, would date john b routledge. like john b routledge, complete pogue, would actually fall for you, a pure kook. 

“no problem, do yo-” he was about to ask you a question, but you heard topper calling your name from down the beach. 

you thought it was kind of rude to just leave him mid sentence, but he shook his head when you looked back at topper and the kooks, and then back at him. 

“go, go, he’s calling you.” john b assured you that it was fine, even though you hadn’t asked. it must’ve been the way you looked at him, because you really didn’t want to leave him there. 

you left anyways, giving john b a small wave as he turned to jj, who was saying something about how the bandana on his neck looked dumb. 

classic pogues. 

later that night, after you’d been called over by topper, who’d talked to you a little about sarah, you were sitting alone next to the water. everyone else was a little further down the beach, but you liked the quiet. the hem of your dress was a little wet from the water, but it didn’t make much of a difference. it was only about knee length, if that, so it wasn’t the end of the world. 

you could almost feel eyes on you, and you hoped they’d be that pogue’s, but as you turned to make sure nobody was there... someone was. 

sarah’s brother - rafe. rafe cameron. you saw him whenever you and sarah had sleepovers, whenever you went to her house for parties, whenever you went out in public, he was always... there. not usually in a creepy way, though. he was sarah’s brother, after all, and you were usually hanging out with sarah or third wheeling with her and topper. 

he was standing behind you, his eyes out on the horizon. you quickly got up and took a few steps away from him. he was... awkwardly close.

“hey, uh, hey rafe.” you stumbled over your words, greeting him. 

“hey, y/n.” he said in a monotone voice, turning to look at you. his eyes skimmed over your figure, and he shifted so that he could face you. “you look nice. i like that dress.” 

you didn’t really know what to say. “thanks, i borrowed it from sarah.” that was a lie, she’d been borrowing it from you lately, but that didn’t really matter. 

“it’s funny, it feels like i never catch you alone. you’re always next to my sister, or in her room, or wherever with other people. there’s a first time for everything, though.” he took a few steps towards you, getting as close as he’d been before. closing the space you’d made.

“oh, yeah.” you forced a laugh, “sarah is my best friend, so i’m not surprised.” you ignored his phrase of ‘there’s a first time for everything’. 

“having fun? i don’t think it’d hurt if we left a little early.” he jumped to conclusions, which instantly made you uncomfortable. he was too calm. he was either calm or jittery, and it didn’t even change when he was high or not. 

“yeah, i’m fine here. i like the waves, so... i’ll stay.” you were about to take a step back, but he grabbed your forearm. it wasn’t violent, just... eager.

“i don’t know about that, y/n.” he said, pulling you a little closer to him as you tried to wriggle your arm out of his hand. 

“rafe-” you managed in a slightly raised tone as he shushed you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“just let me get a moment with you, jesus.” he spat, tilting your head up towards his. 

you didn’t know what to do, you were frozen out of fear. what did he even have in mind? whatever it was, you didn’t want to figure out what it was, but you couldn’t move. 

“everything good over here, y/n?” you heard a voice from behind you, and rafe immediately moved his hand from your face and dropped it down to hold your hip.

“everything’s fine.” rafe answered for you, looking at who was behind you. it sounded like john b, but you couldn’t tell. 

“that’s nice, but i didn’t ask you. y/n?” it sounded like john b was right behind you, and you were thankful for him being there.

“aren’t we fine, y/n?” rafe said, letting go of your forearm. once his grip was gone, you stumbled backwards. you hadn’t realized you’d been so tense, and you’d been leaning away from him. 

you still didn’t say anything. 

“i’ll take that as a no, so i have to ask you to respectfully back off, rafe.” john b was standing next to you now, and rafe scowled at him. 

“you’re not going to ask me to do anything, damn- damn cut kid,” rafe was angrier now, you were pretty sure he was high. before he could advance towards john b, he moved out of the way, letting rafe move between the two of you. “this is none of your business, why don’t you just-” rafe had laid his hand back on your shoulder like you were his, and that had just... done something to john b. you didn’t know what made him do it, but john b swung an angry punch at rafe, knocking him right down next to you. that caught the attention of topper and sarah, which were the closest people down the beach. topper looked pissed, but sarah stopped him when she saw you standing right there. 

she just... knew. and rafe was on the sand, holding his nose as john b shook his fist, sore from knocking him in the face. john b looked a little surprised himself, but his eyes were right on you once he knew rafe was on the ground. 

for once, rafe stayed there. then topper came running, but you shoved topper away from john b yourself. 

“jesus, topper, rafe was getting all handsy, he’s high, take him home before the cops show up.” you spat at topper, a stern tone in your voice. you weren’t mean to anybody, so that was a surprise. john b wasn’t standing near you guys anymore, he was already making his way back down the beach to stay away from topper.

your best friend’s boyfriend obliged after sarah coaxed him to listen to you, it seemed like the three of you kind of expected this kind of behavior from rafe. 

what you didn’t expect, though, was for a pogue like john b to have your back. 

once topper had hauled rafe and sarah into his jeep, you’d waved them off and told them you’d stick around for a little longer. the tourists had also started to leave, so it looked like the party was dying down. 

“that guy is... kind of an asshole.” john b was back standing next to you as you watched topper’s jeep drive off, and you nodded.

“yeah. it’s weird, he doesn’t usually act like that. towards me, at least.” you still had goosebumps on your skin from having rafe’s hands on you. it was a little fucked up. okay, really fucked up. “thanks for being there, though.” 

not a ton of people stood up for you. you were a kook princess, you got everything you wanted, but not a lot of people saw the downsides to that. since everyone assumed your life was perfect, you got to deal with all of the hard shit - like dealing with creepy guys - on your own. 

“i wasn’t about to let rafe cameron pull shit like that, especially if i was right there.” he laughed like it was obvious that he had to do what he did. 

you two walked back over to the now empty beer keg, talking some more. 

twenty minutes later, jj came walking over, facing away from you so that he could shout things to whoever he was walking away from. 

“everyone’s out, we should head back. i’m not spending the night at the boneyard.” jj spoke to john b before he’d even turned around.

turning around, jj saw you sitting next to john b, your backs propped up on a log, his arm draped over your shoulders and you legs crossed over his. “unless you’re busy here...?” jj sounded a little surprised, but he didn’t sound angry about you being there. 

“oh, uh...” john b trailed off, glancing back at the van the pogues rode around in. it was on the road, through the trees that were behind you guys. “you got a ride home, y/n? or do you want to hang out with us? you’re welcome to. if you want, that is.” john b quickly gave you an array of choices, looking back at you. he’d hate to see you go, not have you tucked up under his arm anymore. 

“i’ll be glad to hang out with you guys if you’ll have me,” you answered, looking from john b to jj. 

“yeah, sure, it’s not my house, i’m cool with it.” jj answered before john b did, tilting the beer keg over to see if anything was left in it. 

“yeah, why don’t you hop in the van - i’ll be right behind you.” john b said, moving his arm so that you could get up. 

walking towards the van, you turned for a second, watching jj give john b two thumbs up and a ridiculous smile. pogues. 

in the van, kiara seemed pretty chill with you being there. you two didn’t have anything bad between you, so it was expected. 

you spent the night at john b’s house - which you came to learn was nicknamed the chateau. even though you asked why, because it sure as hell didn’t look like a chateau, they all just kind of laughed and shrugged.

and you spent the next night at john b’s house.

and the night after that. 

the night after that, too. the next one as well. it was mainly just you and john b hanging out, seeing as jj was always on the porch smoking or in his room with a girl. pope spent most nights at his place with his parents, and kie was always dragged home by her parents. that left you and john b on his couch, talking. it left you and john b in his room, sharing a bed. 

you didn’t really know what you two were until he kissed you one night.

you were sitting on his countertop, he’d sat you there when he picked you up dramatically because you’d dropped your sandal halfway down the beach. everyone had gone home, including jj that night, even though both you and john b protested. it was nice to have him around, but you knew his dad wasn’t great. 

john b had handed you a beer, drinking one himself, and he stood between your legs, talking to you as he watched you drink. once he’d finished his bottle, he rested his hands on your legs, and you’d taken the dive. you leaned forwards and almost locked lips with him, making eye contact, a dumb smile on your face for a moment before closing your eyes and pressing your lips up against his, 

his hands immediately moved up to your waist, pulling you a little closer.

“i’m kind of in love with you.” he admitted later on, when you’d moved to the couch after making out on his counter for a little. you were sitting on his lap, facing him, playing with his hair as he pressed kisses all over your face.

“i guess i am too.” you giggled as he placed a kiss on your jaw. 

you fell asleep in his arms that night, right on the couch. you hadn’t even unfolded the mattress out of it, you were just laying on his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

the sunshine coming through the window and laughter coming from somewhere was what woke you up. 

“dude, i called it.” you heard pope’s voice, before jj’s followed with “i never said they weren’t gonna!” and kie’s stern “you’re gonna wake them up before i get a good photo.” 

you leaned up slightly, making eye contact with john b before turning to see the three other pogues in the middle of his living room, kie’s phone pointed at you and john b, pope and jj poking fun at john b. you buried your face into his chest, laughing a little. 

“could you guys get out for like, ten seconds?” john b whispered, shooing his friends. 

“they’re sweet.” you laughed as soon as they left, complaining about being excluded. 

john b’s lips caught yours before you could continue, giving you a long kiss as he sat up. “they’re annoying.” he corrected you, stroking your hair. “you up to go out on the boat?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. 

“always.” 

a/n -- damn it was kinda fluffy :’) proud of myself,, i’m trash at writing fluff. y’all i am 100% sure that i accidentally wrote ‘john be’ at least ONCE in there bc i’m the worst but i can’t reread it again aonwdonafndekogkf. might write a part two, tell me if u want it :’)

[bazwillendinflames]

Wish For You

Read on AO3 

For Matteusz, he had hoped that travelling to the kingdom of Rhodia would bring a better life. Despite a job at the castle, his magic - forbidden by the Queen - and growing feelings for Prince Charles, have only complicated things.

For Prince Charles, tired of living in a carefully controlled world meant to protect him, seeks a night of escape, with the help of the closest thing he has to a true friend. A night at the Festival of Souls provides them both a night of freedom. But how free can you truly be when there's a part of yourself you're always hiding? 

(AKA A loosely based Merlin Marlie au)

Part One - Magic

Matteusz did his chores by hand, even though it was so early the grand hallways of the castle were practically deserted. He had seen the fate of magic users first hand within his first week in Rhodia. Even almost a year later, the smell of smoke still brought back uncomfortable memories of the woman’s screaming. 

He pushed open the Prince’s door without knocking and almost dropped the breakfast tray as Charles let out a startled yelp. Matteusz was equally surprised to see him awake so early - it was rare for him to be awake before Matteusz arrived. It was even rarer for him to awake and ready, although his shirt was ill-fitting and old. 

“My apologies Matteusz,” Charles said formally. 

“I should have knocked,” he said, not quite sure whether to comment on the fact Charles was usually sleeping at this time. “Your breakfast.” 

“Thank you.” 

Charles began eating, in the delicate way only nobles who had their next meal guaranteed could. Matteusz tried not to stare at him, although he was more concerned the Prince had gotten himself cursed again than the other reasons he sometimes found himself watching him . But Charles’ eyes were the same pretty blue, no hints of enchantment or glossiness there. (He always seemed to get himself in trouble, magical or otherwise. Matteusz wasn’t sure how the Prince made it to nineteen without him.) 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Charles nodded. “Why would I not be?” 

They may be friendlier than Mattuesz suspected a Prince and a servant were meant to be - almost friends (which was enough, even if a part of him ached hopelessly for more) - but he still knew better than to push it. 

“No reason,” he answered politely instead, busying himself with lighting the fire. 

“What has my Mother planned for me today?” 

“Strategic meetings in the morning, training with the knights in the afternoon.” The same as every Friday. 

Charles’ handsome face twitched into a frown. “How… lovely. What of the evening?” 

“No plans I know of.” 

That seemed to please Charles, although he didn’t let on why. “Excellent.” 

Matteusz didn’t pry. As long as Charles did not get himself into danger (again), he was welcome to his secrets. 

Matteusz started tidying the room picking up crumpled clothes. Charles may be polite and remember the names of his servants but he was incredibly messy. He could afford to be in a house full of servants, part of him thought bitterly. Still, Matteusz enjoyed his job, he liked the quiet domestic mornings and he liked being at Charles’ side. He was lucky to get a job at the castle, even if it was a little tedious at times and he was too fearful to use magic. The paycheck that funded his sisters’ education kept him going. 

A canvas was set up in the corner, still wet at the edges. It must have been why Charles was awake so early, although Matteusz would never have guessed he was an artist. It was impressive, a beautiful painting of the Rhodian town square, lit up with hundreds of candles. Only half of the night sky was painted but Matteusz could tell it would be a gorgeous piece when finished. 

“Did you paint this?” He found himself asking. Then, as it was an obvious question he added: “it is very good.” 

Charles looked over at the canvas, his expression pained. “I did. I can explain-” 

“You are very talented,” Matteusz interrupted, hoping he wasn’t pushing any of the unspoken boundaries between them. “Is it ever lit up that way? With all the candles?” 

“Yes, candles,” Charles said quickly. “It’s how I imagine the town to look at night. I have not been able to see it like that.” 

“I would like to see it like that as well,” he agreed, “you make it look magical.” 

“Do not tell the Queen that,” Charles said dryly. Matteusz stepped back from the painting guiltily. But it was clear Charles was not being serious, just another of his jokes that did not land right. 

“Our secret,” he promised. 

Charles smiled at that and Matteusz made himself busy again. It would not do him well to linger on the fluttering in his chest for too long. A Prince and a servant - especially a foriegn one with magic -  like him would never work. (But it was nice to imagine sometimes. But only sometimes. If he indulged in Charles' smile for too long, he’d never get anything done at all.) 

With the prince busy all morning, Matteusz found himself in a cramped corner of the palace library. Tanya always seemed to know when he’d be away from Charles’ side and had ambushed him half-way through doing laundry. There had been little point arguing as he was dragged around the castle, although he made a token attempt at protesting anyway. 

“Shouldn't you be working?” 

She hushed him, balancing another scroll on the pile in his arms. Matteusz was sure they weren’t allowed to access the royal library for personal use but there was little point bringing it up to Tanya. She was both stubborn and clever enough to get away with it. Besides, she was one of his only friends. 

“Come on,” she hurried him along. 

Matteusz followed her, weaving through the many hallways and servant passages of the castle. It had been an impressive sight on his first day but there was always some new pathway or hiding spot he was learning of - impossibly, it was bigger on the inside. Tanya had taken them to a small room, the size of a cupboard, with two beds squeezed in and a rocky dresser in the corner. 

“Do not let anyone see you here.” 

“I won’t,” he promised. 

Tanya pulled on the bottom draw until he came out completely with a creak. A dozen scrolls were hidden there. 

“Clever,” he noted. Matteusz had hidden a few texts of his own - old books of magic from the old religion, half-translated to Polish by his Grandmother. Under the queen’s rule, it was important to know how to hide. 

“Thanks. I usually don’t take so many, but it was so busy today. Everyone is preoccupied with the festival today.” 

“What festival?” 

Tanya looked up from her scrolls. “You don’t- I keep forgetting you’re new. Tonight is the Festival of Souls. All staff get the night off. It’s tradition.”  

“That’s unexpectedly nice of the Queen.” 

“The Prince actually,” she corrected. 

Matteusz smiled. “Really?” 

Tanya wedged back the draw with force. “Come help me finish my chores so we can go early? And please take that sappy look off your face.” 

Matteusz followed her smiling. Tanya may drag him around the castle but at least she dragged him out of it too. A kingdom away from Cela, he had found himself another sister. 

   “So tell me more about this festival?” Matteusz asked.

They were taking the long walk on the outskirts of the castle, carrying heavy buckets of water out to the stables. As one of the younger servants, Tanya was usually stuck with grunt work like that. Matteusz had only been roped into helping her out of his own niceness. 

“It’s fun. There’s live music and nice food. At the end, we light candles that’s meant to be our soul’s wish.” 

“It sounds wonderful.” 

“You’re lucky you get to experience it for the first time.” 

They crossed over from the cobblestone bricks onto the uneven grass. It was a short cut that they desperately needed - Matteusz arms were starting to ache. 

“Thank the gods,” Tanya said, dropping the buckets on the ground. “I wish they’d just install a pump out here.” 

Matteusz put down his own load and sat by her on the ground. “We deserve a break.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Did someone say break?” April asked. “Count me in.” 

She ignored her own duties of taking the buckets in and joined them. April was one of the stable hands who looked after the castle horses. It was a job that suited her - she was very gentle with them. Matteusz had even caught her singing to them a few times. 

“Are you coming to the festival?” 

“If the right person asks me,” she replied coyly. 

“Are you talking about a certain knight?” Tanya teased. 

They were sat close enough to the training fields to make out the figures sparring with each other. 

“I might be.” April waved in their direction. The knight in question, Lord Singh, waved back and was knocked on the ground. He did his best to style it out, jogging over in their direction. 

“Here’s your chance,” Tanya muttered. “Oh hey Ram. You know you’re meant to stay on your feet during a fight, right?” 

“Funny.” He smiled at them charmingly. “I wasn’t expecting my fans.” 

“More like casual spectators,” Tanya replied, although it was clear his attention was now firmly directed at April. 

“I think that’s our sign to leave.” 

“Agreed.” They stood up to leave. 

Matteusz smiled over his shoulder. “Hope to see you later April.” 

“You will!” 

“Should I be jealous you have plans?” 

Matteusz almost laughed. He had far more interest in him than April. (Ram flirted with everyone. It said a lot about how smitten he was with Charles that Matteusz wasn’t taken by him more.) 

“Just the festival later. You know the one you’ll be taking me to later.” 

The pair continued flirting as Tanya and Matteusz walked back in the direction of the castle. 

“Good for her.” 

“Yeah.” She seemed a little wistful. “Wish it was that easy for people like us to find someone.” 

Matteusz’ thoughts ended up back to Charles. “And tell them,” he added. 

  “My apologies, I didn’t realise you were back from your training already.” 

Charles was sitting in front of his canvas, a smudge of dark blue paint on his chin. “No need to apologise.” 

“You didn’t go, did you?” 

“It may have slipped my mind,” Charles confessed. 

Matteusz peered over his shoulder at the painting he had been working on this morning. It was now near finished, with the indigo sky complete and a pale moon in the corner. “You really are talented.” 

“You flatter me,” he replied. But Mattuesz could tell from the smile that he enjoyed the flattery. 

“Is it the festival?” 

“It’s close. I’ve not yet been able to attend myself.” 

 The Queen was likely behind it: she was a paranoid woman. (She had enough reason to be paranoid, the magical community had targeted Charles a dozen times over her policies against them.) 

“I can tell you about it tomorrow.” 

“You’re attending?” Charles asked, turning away from his painting. 

“If I am allowed to?” 

He nodded. “Of course. It’s funny, in ways you have so much more freedom than I do.” 

“In some ways,” Matteusz replied, thinking of the flow of magic under his skin he was terrified to use. 

“Could I ask something of you?” There was a softness to the Prince’s voice that Matteusz had clung onto. He had a feeling whatever it was Charles would ask of him, he would agree. 

“Anything.” 

“Could you take me with you?” 

Part 2 - Magic

Part of Charles had been hoping that Matteusz would have lent him some clothes. It was strangely disappointing that he hadn’t - his painting clothes had been women enough to pass as commoner wear. Although perhaps if he claimed to be cold later, Matteusz would offer his jacket, or the soft looking scarf he usually wore. 

(Charles usually didn’t allow himself to linger too long on Matteusz like that. There were a hundred good reasons not to linger on the way Matteusz had tenderly wiped paint from his face earlier. It wouldn’t end well, for either of them.)  

As if Matteusz could tell what he was thinking, he looked over (or down, more accurately) at him. “Are you alright?” 

Charles felt his cheeks flush. “Yes.” 

Matteusz smiled at him. Perhaps his simpler clothing was doing something good: it seemed like they were almost equals. Matteusz rarely smiled at him as much whilst he was working. 

“I can see from here.” 

Charles followed him, catching sight of the lights threaded amongst the trees and windowsills of the square. He had only been in the town square a few times before and never in under conditions. This was no emergency evacuation due to cursed wells or an unfortunate face off with an embittered magic welder. (Or, on one special occasion, a dragon.) 

The square was far from the state of chaos he was used to. The festival was filled with dozens of lights, meant to represent the souls of their lost family and friends. There were small stalls, with barrels of ale or delicious smelling foods. A band played music in the centre. 

“It’s so much more than I was ever able to imagine.” 

“You can try and repaint it,” Matteusz suggested. 

“Some things are just too beautiful to really capture.” 

“You don’t know until you’ve tried.” 

Under the waves of gentle candle light, his warm brown eyes were almost golden. It was hard not to get caught up in it all, so Charles forced himself to step away. He was still a prince after all, no matter how free he felt or how simple he was dressed. 

“Best not to. I don’t want to give us- me away.”

Matteusz seemed to get the underlying message and nodded. “Yes, of course sir.” 

“You know I hate that,” Charles said, hoping his exaggerated frustration would lighten the mood. 

Matteusz looked almost relieved. But before Charles could really analyse his expression, Mattuesz was pushing forward through the crowd towards the cluster of stalls. 

They stopped at a few stalls, browsing the various wares there. Matteusz picked up a set of two woven bracelets. A matching set. 

Charles swallowed back any jealousy. It wasn’t his business to ask who it was for, Matteusz was allowed to have a life outside of his work. 

“Best ale in the kingdom,” Matteusz said. He was talking to the old woman who ran the stall with an easy charm. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere young man,” she replied. Her accent was similar to Matteusz’ own - she must be from the edge of the kingdom as well. “Who’s this?” 

“A friend from the palace,” Matteusz answered. 

“Ah. Another unlucky soul?” 

Charles stayed quiet, mildly alarmed. Maybe his Mother was right when she told him there was danger everywhere. 

“But we have so kindly been given a day off,” Matteusz replied. 

It hadn’t occurred to Charles that Matteusz might actually want to spend his day off away from him. He couldn’t imagine any of his past servants doing the same for him. 

Matteusz paid for the drinks, passing a tall glass of a dark ale to him. 

Charles gave it an experimental sip and spluttered on the bitter taste. He was glad Matteusz was turned away for that one. 

They moved away from the stalls, crossing a group of giggling young women pushing past in the other direction, knocking their bags into him and splashing their drinks. 

“It seems like your disguise is working.” 

Charles rubbed at the dark stain now on his arm. “Yes. Maybe too well.” 

“Surely it is nice to be invisible for once?” 

“It’s certainly… a change.” He sighed. “Although if we could escape the crowd, I’d appreciate it.” 

Just a small comment had alerted him to all the unknowns in the crowds. It would only take one magic user with a grudge to cause chaos. 

Matteusz seemed to sense his anxiety and reached for his hand, navigating them through the masses of people into a more secluded corner. 

“Better?” 

Charles nodded, trying to ignore how his hand was tingling. (He had once fought a magic user who shot bolts of lightning at people. It felt similar - like all his nerves were on edge.) 

“I will get us new drinks.” 

Charles found himself suddenly alone, in a quiet corner at the edge of everything he had ever dreamed of seeing. He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him: endless chatter, musical warm ups from the band, laughter. He could still feel the warmth of Matteusz's hand in his own. 

This was a life that Charles could imagine for himself if he had been born common. Visiting the festival every year, not having to worry about meetings or magic or pleasing the Queen. Marrying for love, not power. 

It was merely a fantasy - and it would only ever stay a fantasy. But it was nice to imagine otherwise. 

“We have a good view of the musicians.” 

Charles opened his eyes again, with Matteusz now by his side. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Oh there’s April.” Matteusz pointed at the dark haired woman holding a fiddle. “She works at the palace. We should be careful though, Lord Singh is with her.” 

“You know a lot about the palace.” 

“They’re my friends.”

Charles wanted to ask what that was like but he didn’t want to look too naive. He busied himself by trying the ale again, but the taste hadn’t improved. 

Matteusz tried his best to hide it but Charles caught the laughter behind his hand. 

“Are you laughing at me?” 

“No.” 

“I can hear you.” 

Matteusz moved his hand, revealing his bright smile. It was almost enough for him to be forgiven. “Okay. Just a little. I’ve seen you drink caskets of wine in the kingdom with no problem.” 

“They taste nice!” 

Matteusz took a long sip of his own drink. “You’ll get used to it.” 

They say in a peaceful quiet. They were positioned perfectly to watch couples dance to the music played. Now Matteusz had mentioned it, he could make out Lord Singh spinning the pretty musician girl. 

“Must be nice to dance without such strict rules.” 

“Yes,” Matteusz agreed, sounding a little wistful. 

Charles took a longer gulp of his ale before asking: “do you have anyone to dance with? If you hadn’t escorted me?” 

“Escorted?” Matteusz seemed amused. “You’re a little old for a babysitter.” 

…Which wasn’t answering his question. 

“But no,” he answered. “I had someone back home but I had to leave him behind.” 

Him. Charles tried not to overthink it. 

“Do you miss it?” 

“Dancing?” Matteusz asked. “I am not very good.” 

“Having someone.” He felt his face flush again. At least it was darker now and less obvious. He could always blame the ale. 

“It was nice.” He looked away from the couples. “I miss other parts of home more. Like my sister. I send her gifts when I can. Like the bracelets I brought earlier. She likes to make ones like them.” 

Charles felt a little foolish. “You don’t mention her a lot.” 

“I miss her,” Mattesuz replied. 

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling,” Charles confessed. “To share the burden of being a prince.” 

“Must be lonely.” 

He looked over to Matteusz, reliably by his side as always. “Not always.” 

  Wobbling slightly, Charles was starting to regret his second and third ales. It had taken them to finally pluck up the courage to ask Matteusz to dance with him. It had been ungraceful, yet freeing, to be spun around in hazy circles. 

“I’m dizzy.” 

“I’m sure you are.” Was Matteusz laughing at him? He found it more endearing than anything else. They had both let their guard down. 

“I wish I was normal so we could do this everyday.” 

“The festival is only once a year.” 

“Then I’ll make it law to happen everyday.” 

“Normal people can’t make laws.” Matteusz was definitely teasing him now. “This way.” 

“I’d run away after.” 

“You can’t just run away.” 

Charles frowned. “You did. You left everything you knew.” 

“Yeah. But it is different. They need me to be here, even if it's dangerous for me. Rhodia needs you right where you are.” 

“How is it dangerous?” He asked. “Magic?” 

Matteusz stopped for a moment and Charles stumbled into his back. 

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you from the evil magicians Matti.” 

“Don’t call me that,” he replied. All the fun sucked out of the conversation suddenly. 

Even in his inebriated state, Charles knew when to shut up. 

“This is a bad idea.” 

“Is it?” 

“This shortcut I mean.” Matteusz glanced over down the steep hill. “Not when you’re like this.” 

“I’m fine,” Charles shot back. He didn’t want Matteusz to think he was incapable of walking. 

“Wait, don’t-” Matteusz called, his voice the last thing Charles heard before he slipped.

   Charles had fallen down a hill, in the darkness of early morning, and woken up to the natural light pouring through his open curtains. He had expected the light to sting but he felt okay, minus a fogginess in his head. 

Matteusz was nowhere to be seen. He was usually on time for his duties, but maybe Charles had just missed him. There was tea and breakfast on the side, fresh clothes and the open window. Charles just hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid yesterday. 

(Charles could remember looking up at him, opening his mouth, a horrified expression on Matteusz face. He couldn’t remember what he said, which was somehow worse.) 

He dressed himself. In the mirror, he spotted a small scratch on his forehead. (He could remember falling last night. Maybe just the stairs. He was drunk after all.) 

Matteusz was still missing as Charles went about his day. He had done his lessons alone, then was served by a new servant at lunch. By the time his mother had her meetings, he was convinced Mattuesz was avoiding him. He let Councillor Ames speech wash over him, recounting the last night’s events again, trying to find where he went wrong. 

Charles recalled his face when he had called him ‘Matti', his warning of caution, then a weightless falling, as if time slowed down. That part felt even blurrier, perhaps he had hit his head, even if it didn’t hurt. In fact, he hadn’t even been hungover. It was like- 

“Magic,” Ames was saying, “is evil.” 

(“Magic,” Charles recalled himself saying yesterday, “but you’re not evil.”) 

“Yes, my lord?” 

Without realising he had stood up. It wasn’t just the councillor’s eyes on him, but the whole meeting room. “Um, I agree with the councillor.” 

“What was she saying?” 

He winced: the queen never went easy on him. “Er.” 

“Just go Charles,” she said sternly, “it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.” 

“My apologies,” he said. Usually being told off like a child would be upsetting, but there was already something else on his mind. 

Charles forced himself to walk out the room slowly. Once he was back in the empty hall, he took off running towards his room. He sunk into his bed, shaking, as the events of the night before finally clicked into place. 

  He had been falling, Mattuesz shouting something. Not for help, something else. Words he didn’t recognise. 

Charles had stopped falling, more like drifting, like a feather caught in the wind. The world suddenly slowed, until he had harmlessly landed on a patch of grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been there before. 

Matteusz had gotten down too, suddenly crouched in front of him. He had wiped the small scratch on his face gently and suddenly the bleeding had stopped. 

“Are you okay?” 

Charles was dazed. “You did something.” 

“No I didn’t,” Matteusz said, too quickly. “You just got lucky.” 

“No, it was you,” he had repeated, with clarity. “I was floating, it was like…” 

“Don’t say it.” 

But he had said it. “Magic. You have magic. But you’re not evil.” 

“I’m not anything.” 

“It all makes sense,” he had said, feeling suddenly sober, “all those fights we won - that was you. I thought I was special. I thought I was a hero.” 

“I needed to protect you,” Matteusz whispered. “I will keep protecting you. I’m sorry.” 

He had put his hands on his face and for a second Charles had thought he was going to be kissed. Instead, there was just blankness, nothing. 

Matteusz had made him forget. 

Charles had finally caught up with Matteusz after training with his knights. He had fought better than usual, filled with so much anger that he had even managed to beat Lord Singh. 

He had been with the same musician they saw yesterday, watching from a distance. 

“Let’s go for a ride,” he had suggested. The musician girl had been a stable hand and given them a horse each and they headed into the quietness of the forest. 

“How’s your head?” There was a forced playfulness to Matteusz’ voice. 

“Alright, considering how far I fell.” 

Matteusz had stopped. “I-” 

“I remember.” Charles stopped his horse and slid off him. “Have you made me forget other things?”

“No, never. I only ever used my magic to help you. Memory spells are tricky.” 

“You used untested dark magic on me?” 

Charles was starting to wonder if going somewhere alone with a magic user was a bad idea. If it was up to his Mother, Matteusz would be executed by the next morning. (He couldn’t let that happen. Charles couldn’t be that wrong about him.) 

“It wasn’t dark magic,” Matteusz said, “no magic is dark-” 

“Experience tells me otherwise. Magicians killed my Father.” 

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But we are not all like that.” Matteusz stepped back, like he was the one to be afraid. “I will leave tonight. You won’t have to see me again. Please, don’t tell the queen.”

“How could you say that?” Charles asked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“You have done it to others like me,” Matteusz said. He still looked scared. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me the truth?” 

“It is dangerous to be magic,” he explained. “I could take no chances.” 

“I understand. I have my own secrets. Even from you.” 

Matteusz didn’t ask. (He wished he would. Then he could do something. One kiss, if he really was going to leave, if Charles was allowed one indulgence.) 

“For what it’s worth, I wish for you to stay. I will keep your secret. You have saved my life so many times, I owe you that.” 

Mattuesz looked relieved. “Thank you.” 

(When Charles woke up the next morning, it was Matteusz opening the curtains and letting the light in.)

[madzfm]

˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀  JESSICA ALEXANDER  .   CIS FEMALE  .  SHE / HER      ⧽ ⠀ have  you  seen  the  786  latest  post  ?  sources  say  they  have  some  serious  dirt  on  the  child  of  a  big  time   COUNTRY MUSIC STARS  .   they  haven’t  revealed  who  it was  yet  but  my  best  is  on  MADISON  DARLING  !  ever  since  that  last  update  about  how  she  ALLEGEDLY GOT CAUGHT SPORTING A BABY BUMP LAST YEAR BEFORE GHOSTING EVERYONE  i  don’t  put  anything  pass  them  .  i  mean  ,  these  celebrity  kids  are  just  out  of  control  .   they  do  whatever  they  want  ,  whenever  they  want  and  are  ungrateful  in  the  process  !!  i  mean  take  MADDIE  for  example  ,  they’re  a  TWENTY THREE  year  old  DANCER  ,  and  what  did  they  do  to  get  there  ?  have  famous  parents  !  like  hello  ,  just  because  you HAVE BEEN IN MUSIC VIDEOS WITH A-LIST MUSICIANS doesn’t  mean  you  actually  deserved  it  .   i’m   glad   the   786   is   taking   them   down   a   notch   .   it’s   about   time   someone   does   .

             𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂  /  𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓  / 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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hey ... hey ... how y’all doin’ ?  i’m sooo excited to be here , besties ! sorry i’m late with the intro , it’s been a looooong weekend for me but i’m eager to get the ball rolling . so here’s the rundown , the google doc has a full bio + more stats + headcanons but i don’t expect anyone to actually read all that nonsense so i’ve tried my best to sum it up below ( it’s still kinda long tho i’m sorry y’all i ramble too much ). i’m always down to talk plots & threw a few wanted connection ideas at the bottom , so feel free to hmu on discord any time <3 but yes okay let’s get into it

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━━     ˊ     *     𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  . .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. madison dallas darling .   𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬). maddie , mads .   𝐝𝐨𝐛. april 14 , 1998 .   𝐚𝐠𝐞. twenty - three .   𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. aries sun , libra moon , leo asc .   𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. cis female .   𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬. she / her .   𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. bisexual .  𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. nashville , tn .   𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5ft 5in .  𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. high school diploma .   𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. dancer / realty tv personality .   𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. robert “robbie” darling - father . dixie darling - mother . delaney darling - sister .   𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬. compassionate , imaginative , family-oriented  , devoted , generous , sympathetic , idealistic , self critical , naive , competitive , indecisive , impressionable , elusive , sensitive .

━━     ˊ     *     𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 . .

tw : things like shitty controlling parents , injury , & pregnancy are mentioned

   born & raised in nashville , tennessee , madison is the daughter of two country music icons ( basically blake shelton & miranda lambert ) & has only ever known a life in the spotlight . her parents were a widely adored it couple who shared their lives with millions of viewers across the world with their reality tv show . at 7pm cst you could tune in to watch robbie & dixie raise their two daughters - having some good ol’ wholesome family fun while juggling responsibilities that come with being famous artists . to any outsider looking in , they seemed like the perfect family . a loving father , a supportive mother , two prim & proper daughters that collected accolade after accolade in every pageant & talent competition they ever entered . but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on tv , even if it’s deceptively labeled as “reality” .

   when the cameras weren’t rolling , the darling sisters were left under their mother’s restrictive control . dixie darling treated her daughters more like dolls than living beings , madison & delaney were basically pretty little accessories . while robbie never dared to mistreat his daughters , he was around a lot less than the show made it seem - often touring the world rather than spending quality time with his girls . plus , dixie & robbie seemed to endlessly fight with one another - nearly every childhood memory madison has of her parents involves them yelling . if she wanted to see them looking happy & in love , she’d have to tune in to the fabricated reality on their own show to get a taste of what a happy , loving family looks like . 

   you can’t be a child of dixie darling without being exploited in some way . while delaney was pushed into the music scene , madison was shoved into the world of dance . she took every class that was offered & practiced for hours upon hours to perfect her craft . her sister had taken after their folks with the singing voice of an angel & the looks to rival that of miss universe , meanwhile maddie was good for two things : dance & doing whatever her mother said . so when dixie said to twirl , she twirled , when she said do a grand jeté, maddie asked how high & then over performed like the good little girl she was trained to be .

   it wasn’t until her parents got divorced & maddie moved to miami to be with her sister , her father , & her father’s new girlfriend that she sort of came out ( or more accruately described as dragged out ) of her timid , non - confrontational , subservient shell . with a longer leash , she had more freedom to roam far & wide . no one tried to tell her what to do or who to talk to & considering she was just a privileged teenager with endless funds & the status to get away with just about anything , you can imagine how badly that went . every mistake she made was broadcasted onto people’s televisions or headlined in tabloids . it was stressful , growing up & messing up all under the watchful gaze of millions of people who felt entitled to berate her for her poor life decisions . just because they watched her grow up on tv didn’t mean they actually knew anything about her . & yet so many people shared their unsolicited opinions on her & her life . it drove her insame .

   maddie wasn’t handling the stress of being well known very well . she wanted a break from it all , to just go somewhere far away where no one knew her name & just live by herself . it was a silly dream . nothing she’d ever actively pursue . but the universe has a funny way of giving us a taste of what we think we want just to teach us a lesson . 

   so over a year ago , maddie found out that she was pregnant . it was a shock to say the least . she kept it a close guarded secret from everyone but her sister for awhile . not only was it a life changing development , but it was one thing that she was determined not to share with the rest of the world . with the idea of running away in continuous loop in the back of her mind , she came up with a plan to buy herself some time . she faked a really bad injury during a performance & let the media run with saying she might not be able to walk , let alone dance ever again . pushing the cover story even further , she claimed to be in need of intense physical therapy & sought after it in a luxurious private lodge in new zealand . that’s where she stayed during her year away , letting no outsiders come visit while she figured out how she was going to move forward with this baby growing inside of her .

   so maddie finally got the break she was looking for even if it wasn’t under the circumstances that she would’ve liked . but she adapted to the situation . in her time away , she went through the entire pregnancy but it was basically decided for her by her parents that it was best to give the baby up for adoption . the little girl would be in good care by a couple that was a family friend of the darlings . better to bless someone who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one than for maddie to keep her daughter when she wasn’t in a place to take care of her . it broke her heart , honestly . she had grown quite attached to the baby & even entertained the idea of being a single mom even though she knew her own mom would never let that happen - it would go against the strict narrative that they try to put out there about the darling family .

   after a year away , maddie is back in miami without anyone knowing what really happened . she keeps using the “injury” as the excuse for her absence from the spotlight . anyone really close to her might be able to tell that something’s off , but she’s trying so hard to act like everything is fine & nothing has changed at all . she might even be able to get away with her lies - if it wasn’t for that damn 786 website threatening to spill the tea & make her life hell .

━━     ˊ     *     𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧��𝐧𝐬 . .

   a wannabe good girl gone bad but harbors a deep rooted fear of being a disappointment & a failure due to her mom’s strict parenting style . so like she wants to be rebellious & come across as carefree but internally she’s panic screaming always ( honestly relatable like same , girl )

   well - mannered in a sweet southern belle kind of way with her please’s & thank you’s & calling everyone ma’am & sir out of respect & what not

   biiiig mom friend energy . she just wants to make sure that everyone is taken care of . she can get very protective & a little helicopter parent-y with her friends . it probably has something to do with control issues that she doesn’t realize she has but we don’t have time to unpack that rn akjsdbk

   before her year away i want to say that she was a lot more people please-y / overly eager to please ?? like rarely said no to people that asked for favors , always agreed to any plans people invited her to out of courtesy , & what have you . but now i see her as being a little less patient than before & a little bit more unhinged & quick to shut down or snap

   guillable ! naive ! dumb as hell ! believes that everyone was raised with the same values as her & has a big of a heart like she does so she’s easily subjectable to getting her feelings hurt & i say let it happen !!

   wants to be mysterious so bad but there is very little known about her & her life that isn’t public knowledge . she could get shit on by a bird & it’ll probably become a twitter highlight idk she just wants to believe she’s imperceptible & acts all evasive in order to keep her private life private but that rarely ever has the desired effect

    one of those annoying rich & famous people that’s like “i wasn’t meant to be famous . i was meant to have a normal life & be a normal person” but like !! she is actually so out of touch with reality & probably couldn’t tell you how much milk is at the grocery store because she has people to do mundane day to day things for her . spoiled little privileged rich girl , let’s be real . her dad tried to keep her humble , idk what happened

   dance style / career is pretty much inspired by maddie ziegler but also not really bc i am very picky & choosey about which aspects of her career i’m pulling from

   boring on social media because she hardly ever posts & is very short with her captions & tweets when she does make an appearance online every blue moon 

   dodges questions about what she’s been up to while she was gone like she’s in the matrix or something . all that pr training her mom put her through when she was younger is coming in handy because she has not given a single honest , straight answer in the months she’s been back . would rather talk about anything else than herself right now so don’t be surprised if she pulls some random subject changes out of her ass if people get nosy . i’m sure the common conspiracy is that maddie was so embarrassed by the fall on stage that she went into hiding 

   delaney is the kim kardashian & britney spears of the family while madison is the kourtney & the jamie lynn xoxo

━━     ˊ     *     𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

ride or die , bad influence , frenemies , family friends , good influence , confidant , rival , girl squad , non judging breakfast club , childhood friend , unlikely friend , exes on good terms , exes on bad terms , neighbors , pr friendship , pr enemy , social media mutuals , party buddies , secret friend , secret hook - up , crush , friends with benefits , adventure buddy , enemy with benefits , dance partners , mentors , mentees , sibling like relationship , will they won’t they , people suspicious of her & her supposed “injury” , father of her baby 👀 jk ..... unless