#can you imagine the newlywed energy in that house if they figured out their feelings *before* Sophia got there?

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

I was watching S3E15: Dorothy's New Friend yesterday (the one with Barbara Thorndyke), and when the girls are talking about Rose's masquerade ball, Blanche says:

"We've gone for the past five years. We may hate it, but we always go."

Now — Golden Girls isn't exactly known for its perfect continuity, so this might just be an error, but if we take it at face value, this is telling us that:

1) in S3 the girls have been living together for five years, if we assume they already felt close enough during their first year as roommates to accompany Rose to the masquerade ball (otherwise, they've lived together for more than five years). Which means:

2) when Shady Pines burns down and Sophia comes to live with the Girls, they've been living together for at least two years already. (As a side note, iirc Dorothy states in S1 that Stan left her about two years prior, so I guess this implies she started living with Blanche and Rose right after her divorce). Which means:

3) when Rose says in the finale that there's too much to say about 7 years of fights and laughter and secrets and cheesecake, she's talking about the group of the four of them, but actually she, Blanche and Dorothy have spent basically an entire decade together.

A decade. As if seven years wasn't painful enough. I need to scream

[ikeromantic]

Middle Ground

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs well after the events of the romantic epilogue. Fluff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Bonding

“So . . . separate beds?” Mitsuhide’s wry smile was only a little bitter.

“Yes. I know it’s silly. I’d . . . I’d rather be in there with you.” The chatelaine, soon to be Lady Akechi, looked down, her expression a mixture of shame and defiance.

“It’s fine. I will have you all to myself soon enough. What is a night or two apart?”

She looked up without raising her head, trying to gauge his emotions.

Mitsuhide wasn’t having any of that. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “It is fine.” Then he leaned forward to brush a kiss across her cheek. With his lips almost close enough to touch her skin, he added. “Are you so eager to be in my arms again? Do you want to . . . test out the guest room? Or your childhood bed?”

He had the intended effect. She shivered and licked her lips. “You are so bad!”

“You are the one protesting our brief separation.” Mitsuhide pressed another kiss to her cheek and leaned back.

She crossed her arms. “You’re right. It’s just a few nights. But when we get back to the city -” a wicked smile turned her lips up at the corners, promising all sorts of fun.

“So forward, my little mouse. So eager. You make me wish we were home already.”

“That’s the idea.” She turned and threw him a saucy look. “Something to dream about.”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Good night, little one.” Something to dream about indeed. He watched her hips as she walked down the hall, until she turned into her room and shut the door. She really had no idea what impact she had on him. He wondered if it was his practiced art of hiding his true emotion, or simply that she couldn’t see how beautiful she was. How desirable.

He went into the room and shut the door. It was so strange. The electronic hum of household devices. The cold fluorescent light from the street lamps in his window. Distant traffic sounds blending with barking dogs and strains of music. Mitsuhide felt suddenly very alone and very out of place.

Despite his refusal, the thought of spending one night, much less three, without his little one, felt impossible. A burden too heavy for him to bear. He needed to feel her in his arms, to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Her warmth grounded him in this strange place.

Mitsuhide gave a dry, soundless laugh. Who was the little mouse now?

Slowly, meditatively, he dressed for bed and lay down. He would embrace this world, different as it was from his own. He had to, because it was the one that gave birth to his beloved. And so, listening to the heartbeat of this small town, the viscous thrum of modern life, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Miyake and Sasuke arrived the following day at lunch. They met up at a local restaurant. Youko was friends with the owner and able to borrow a few tables in the back for privacy.

Minoru, the chatelaine’s often grumpy father, seemed to be on his best behavior. Not smiling, but distantly polite to the two newcomers. He thawed a little when his daughter threw her arms around each of the men in greeting.

No one said much as they ate. Youko and Minoru sat beside their daughter on one side of the table, glancing up at her strange friends. Sasuke, Mitsuhide and Miyake sat across from them, looking nervous.

It was Sasuke who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I understand your daughter told you about our time in the Sengoku. Understandably, you want proof. You have questions. We are here to give you what evidence we can.”

Minoru snorted. “What do you get out of this charade?” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “Is he paying you?”

Miyake looked as if he wanted to speak up, but Sasuke beat him to it. “No. I am here because your daughter is my friend.” He reached into his bag. “I know it isn’t much, but I brought my ninja kit as proof. These - these are smoke pellets. And that is a kunai. This is a sleeping poison, and this -” he went through the items, explaining what they were and how he made them. Detailed descriptions of the tools and materials he had available.

When Sasuke finished, Minoru looked thoughtful.

Youko smiled across as Sasuke. “You seem a very resourceful young man. And you are also the one that discovered these wormholes?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sasuke dipped his head, embarrassed by the compliment.

“It could just be you have a - a fascination with this stuff. Read a lot. Saw some movies,” Minoru said. His gruff voice held more than a hint of doubt. Even he didn’t buy his own explanation.

Sasuke nodded. “I could have. But even that would not yield the encyclopedic knowledge I’ve developed. I would go into greater detail, but I imagine you don’t have the underlying historical education to make use of most of the information I could provide. Unless . . . Are you a history buff?” His voice sounded different at the end, as if this question was important. Light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. The air around him was charged, almost crackling with a sudden and unexpected energy.

“No. I can’t say I am,” Minoru replied.

“Hm, too bad.” The strange tension in the ninja disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Mitsuhide nudged Miyake. The warrior muttered something under his breath and then rolled his shoulders. “Alright, old man. I don’t blame you for doubting us. I’d think I was crazy too, or lying. But what Lady Akechi told you is true. She’s been living with my lord for the last few months. And it’s a good thing too. He smiles a lot more now. Eats too, and sleeps almost like a human.”

“Miyake,” Mitsuhide growled. “That’s not the kind of evidence they need to hear.”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And if you don’t mind me saying, well, even if you do, your daughter makes for one hell of a princess. She makes the servants happy to do a good job because she notices the little things. And the guards . . . they’d all die for her, and not just because Lord Akechi demands it. She’s kind and good to all of us. I don’t get to spend time at the castle, but I hear how she remembers birthdays and congratulates newlyweds and -”

Youko laughed, a sound Mitsuhide recognized. Much like his own little one, but matured. More elegance with just the same amount of joy. “It sounds like you have a following,” she smiled at her daughter.

The chatelaine blushed. “I really don’t. He’s exaggerating, mom. Really.”

“He is not,” Mitsuhide chided. “Though I don’t think that’s the kind of proof her father -”

Minoru interrupted, his gruff voice quieting the table. “It’s clear you’ve gotten to know her. My little girl.” He gave her a brief smile. “I am still . . . it’s a lot to take in. This wild story. But she stands by it and there is clearly - something true in it.”

His daughter hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, papa.”

He dislodged himself from her unexpected embrace. “I didn’t say I’m buying the whole story. Just,” he waved his hand, “some of it rings true.”

The tension at their table eased, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Youko and Minoru had a lot of questions, and were finally ready to hear the answers.

***

Kyubei followed Ranmaru through the thick forest undergrowth, barely able to make out the dirt path he led them down. This was supposed to lead to a safe house, one that Kennyo agreed to meet him in. He wished the demon-abbot had a taste for teahouses instead of abandoned forest shacks, but it could be worse.

He could be with Hideyoshi, hunting Motonari across the ports. Kyubei wasn’t afraid of pirates, but being on a boat . . . the constant roll of the ocean waves made him sick as a dog. No matter how many trips he made, he never gained any kind of tolerance for the motion. So this, the dirt and the bugs and the thick air under the trees, was a better deal all around.

“This is it.” Ranmaru stopped just before the path opened on a small clearing. There was a half-rotted shack ahead, once a shrine to some local deity, now fallen into disrepair.

Kyubei was surprised to see he wasn't’ the only one here to speak to the monk. Another familiar figure sat on the wooden steps outside the shrine. “Shingen?”

Takeda grinned up at him, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. “If it isn’t Mitsuhide’s maid!” He laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I just expected to see the kitsune out here himself.”

“He is otherwise engaged.”

“Is he?” Shingen’s smile was dangerous now. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our missing ninja, would it?”

“If it does, I’ll send him your head,” Yukimura spoke up from somewhere to Kyubei’s left.

Ranmaru put his hands up, laughing as if this were all so silly. “It’s too early for threats. Come on! Let’s make some tea and relax. The abbot will be here shortly.”

Kyubei turned his head a fraction, just enough to see Yukimura lower his spear. “Tea would be good.” He ignored the younger warrior’s scowl as he followed Ranmaru to the shrine.

He didn’t sit, but stood near Takeda, resting his back against a tree.

Shingen, for his part, pretended to be fully relaxed. It wasn’t quite effective though. His brow held a waxy sheen, his eyes looked sunken and fevered. Worse, his breathing was labored. A rasp, harsh as a winter cough.

Kyubei watched him carefully. This was a bad situation. A dying man had fewer qualms than one that had to live with his decisions. He hadn’t realized Takeda was so bad off though, despite the reports he’d received. The Tiger of the Kai was legend. Not a man to be taken down by sickness. And yet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yukimura snapped, coming to stand beside his lord.

Shingen chuckled. “So protective, Yuki.” His laugh turned into a thick, unproductive cough. When he finally got control of himself, he directed his attention to Kyubei. “So. Where did your lord and my ninja go off to? And don’t tell me you don’t know. There’s too much tying their disappearance together. I’d rather not have to kill you today for lying to me.”

Another situation he wished he had his lord’s guidance. What information was safe to pass along, and what plans would the ripples of this conversation affect? Kyubei swallowed. “I suspect they have gone to visit the chatelaine’s home. 500 years in the future.”

Shingen nodded as if this was the answer he expected. “Sasuke asked me if I’d like to visit his hometown. He said - he said they could cure me.”

“And then he left without you.” Yukimura punched the shrine wall, causing the whole building to tremble.

Ranmaru poked his head out. “Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the whole thing down on my head!”

“Sorry,” Yukimura growled.

“If it is any consolation, I don’t believe Lord Akechi or Sarutobi left when they did intentionally. The information my lord left indicates the trip was meant to take place later. He was still . . . putting things in place for his extended absence.”

“That’s bull,” Yukimura grumbled, but he relaxed his grip on the spear.

They had no more time to talk it over as Kennyo’s shadow fell across the clearing. He came out of the trees like a spirit, the rings on his staff clinking. “It appears you found me. Again.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, old friend, I did have to hunt through every abandoned shrine in the province to get to this one.”

Kennyo snorted in disbelief.

“Ranmaru brought me,” Kyubei bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I have little time or patience for guests. Tell me what you want.” Kennyo crossed his arms.

“Your help with the false emperor.” Kyubei didn’t look up from his bow. “We both know Ashikaga is dead. The scribe we set up in his place, or the men around him, have gone astray.”

“I could care less. Let the exiled shogun harass the devil-king. Nobunaga and his pawns can go to hell.” Kennyo’s eyes were dark and full of anger. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.

Shingen shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I hate him too. But it’s not just him getting hit. These idiot daimyos in his retinue are conscripting farmers. Villagers. Innocent folk that should be left out of a power grab.”

The demon abbot’s eyes fell on his old friend. “And you believe this is a worse fate than what the Oda have in store for them?”

“I do.” Shingen’s gaze didn’t waver.

Kennyo’s shoulders shook and it took Kyubei a moment to realize the abbot was laughing. He shook his head. “You always were a fool, Shingen. But fine. I will tell you what I know. I don’t think you can stop what has been set in motion.”

Next: Double Dating

[aestheticwritingz]

CEO Harry Styles (smut warning)

ceo!harry hot as hell

* Quick note before you start reading. I know I haven’t been here writing for awhile, but I’m back with this sexy thing. I’ve been working on a short book for quite some time and I will let you know when it gets published, if you want to read it. Feel free to send in your requests, and enjoy reading this! ️Also, my masterlist is updated!! <3 *

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“Honey, hurry up, it’s already 8:30!” my dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I was still getting ready for this dinner event, organized by my father. It was for his company, they raised money for... I don’t know what. All I knew was that we all had to go, no exceptions. Realizing that I would be having some delicious food and free booze, I decided there wasn’t much harm in going. After all, what could possibly go bad?

Putting on a final touch - silver heels - that complimented my long nude dress very well, I was out of my room. To be honest, I never liked functions like these at my dad’s company. I love the cause and, sure, there were a lot of beautiful men to look at all night, but they were all already taken. Dad mentioned a new CEO, but I’ve never met him. All I knew was that his name was Harry, that he was 27 and youngest CEO they ever had. Most importantly, I knew that he was single. Nonetheless, I didn’t think he would go for a younger girl, especially boss’ daughter - but what’s the harm in looking and fantasizing?

We finally rushed out of the house, and after not a long ride, we arrived. We get inside, trying to get “ugly” looks from our faces - ones that say “we just fought about who takes the longest to get ready”. We got to our table and I could already sense the energy of the night. Lawyers and their obedient wives, newlyweds and way old colleagues. No one with children my age - or even if they were younger, they wouldn’t come to this boring event.

I spent most of my night sitting at the table, having some wine and eating good food, as expected. Observing people is the only fun thing I could do at fancy dinners like this, but I still didn’t spot the famous Harry Styles. The night was wearing off, as I thought, until I glanced at the door.

There he was, taking his long black coat off and handing it to the person behind the desk in charge for coats and jackets. His unusual silky suit glistened under the bright lights, but I couldn’t notice his figure quite well - until he got closer. He was taller than I imagined and he could pull off the distinctive suit really well. His long curls sat well on his shoulders and complimented his face in a way I haven’t seen before - considering the only men I see often are freshmen with buzz cuts at my college. Harry seemed intimidating from afar, greeting all his colleagues. I could see the slight smirk on his face and polite laugh when he’s speaking. Even though he was well dressed for this occasion, I couldn’t help but look at his hands, beautifully accessorized with a few rings - I’m sure it caught my attention because it was always such a turn on for me. I fidgeted in my seat when I saw him walk in our direction and noticed his gaze on me once he got close to us. He watched me through furrowed eyebrows, probably because he had never seen me before. 

Harry shook my father’s hand and they started chatting incoherently,or at least something I didn’t pay attention to. I was quite honestly blown away by how beautiful he was, it was almost intimidating. He was uncomfortably beautiful, the kind where you just felt awkward to be in the same room with the person. Nonetheless, I didn’t show it. I never would. His low and raspy voice interrupted my thoughts and I quickly snapped out of them.

“Don’t want to be impolite. My name is Harry,” and stuck out his hand to shake mine. His gaze fixated intently on my face left me charmed and that’s when I first noticed his green eyes.    I reciprocated saying “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N.” with smile that could certainly hide the nervousness in my stomach.  “Nice to meet you too.” he said and continued talking with my parents. From time to time, I could notice him looking at me, mostly up and down, which made him form a smirk on his face.  Somewhere in the background, a slow song started so my parents decided to dance and just as I thought this could be my moment to talk with Harry, he was nowhere in sight. Then I realized, or rather fantasized that this was his way of playing hard to get. Playing the games I hated the most. However, it takes two to play this one, and I was intended to win. Even when he thought he would get by unnoticed, I could certainly see him staring at me from across the room. He even winked at me, and when he least expected it, I winked back. 

Still, he caught me off guard, when I least expected as well. I was just scrolling through something on my phone, when I felt the chair I was sitting on weigh down. At this point, his head was right next to mine, and his hands rested on the back of the chair. He bent down and I could feel his cologne and his cold necklace gently grazing my naked shoulder, making every hair on my body rise up.

“I know you already,” he said, not breaking the gaze with the people on the dance floor.  “Yeah? Where from?” I said calmly, even thought what I felt on the inside was far different than calm. He decided to sit down next to me, pointing at the waiter to bring him another glass of whiskey.  “Remember that club downtown, a year or two ago? We were dancing and then you told me you were sixteen at the time-”

“Here you go, sir.” waiter said and Harry politely nodded. “-that was quite a night, if I remember well.” Harry took a sip of his drink and grinned, looking ahead of us. How could I forget that? Well, he certainly looked way different. Two years ago, he was in tight black jeans, vans and simple black shirt. He had shorter hair as well, but now - he looks like...an adult. Everything started coming back to me,  the night of my friend’s 17th birthday, we decided to go to a club - we were way tipsy to remember how we got inside without an ID. Long story short, I was dancing with Harry, and completely backed out when he asked me to get out of there. I told him my age and he respectively left my sight. He was pretty drunk and the whole thing didn’t last more than fifteen minutes - obviously not enough to remember, either way the whole night was pretty hazy.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I guess we meet again. How do you even remember that?”

“Well, sweetheart.. I can handle my alcohol and remember things, unlike you obviously.” 

“I guess. I have a chance to redeem myself tonight, hopefully.” I winked, feeling way more confident considering how charming Harry was. He picked up on what I was saying pretty quickly and responded with a flirty smirk and proceeded to lick his lips.

We continued talking for over an hour. Sharing funny stories and things from each others lives. How he became more serious about himself, work and adult life. Still, he seemed very mysterious leaving some things out, which made me want to know more. Made me want him even more. Every detail about him was noticeable. The way he talked, moves his hands and lips, the way he shifted in his seat when I made a dirty joke -  which he seemed to like very much. There was an instant connection, lust and desire between us that could be felt from miles away and Harry could feel it too. Through alcohol haze that we both felt, it was very clear he wanted to kiss me and I couldn’t say I wouldn’t kiss back. He would look at my eyes, lips, then neck and shoulders, which were uncovered for him to leave kisses all over.

“I have to go to the restroom.” I said getting up, wishing he would follow me and have all of me then and there. Yet, he didn’t. He stayed seated and ordered another drink.

I checked myself out in the mirror, rearranging my dress to fit me well again after wrinkling in that chair the whole night. Thought about how Harry truly was different than any guy I had met before. I was never easy to have, I was always polite and friendly with new people I meet, yet this man could take one look at me and I would strip naked without questions asked. There was something about him that I really couldn’t put my finger on, but I would let him have all of me. After all, can’t a good girl have some fun from time to time?

I went out of the restroom and found myself in an empty hallway, not a person in sight.

“Pssst,” I heard passing the coat room. It was Harry, motioning with his finger for me to get in. “It’s finally happening.” I thought to myself as I checked my surroundings and entered the coat room.

As expected, I was pinned to the wall shortly after entering the room. Harry wrapped his arm lightly around my neck and lifted my chin with his thumb. “Good job acting like a good girl,” he said, lust written all over his face. From a friendly Harry to a dark lustful one, what a surprise. “Acting like you didn’t fuck me with your eyes the whole night.” 

Low, raspy voice left goosebumps all over my skin as Harry traced over them with pads of his fingers, up and down on my arm. When I leaned to kiss him, he pinned me back against the wall. “Waited all night to kiss me, now you can’t hold on a little longer, huh?” he said lifting my leg up and wrapping it around his waist, thankfully it was literally free because of the cut on the side of my dress. He gently caressed the front and back of my thigh and I was becoming impatient. Finally, he squeezed my thigh harder, moved his other hand from my neck to my face and kissed me roughly.

If something else could tell he was the dominant one, it was the kiss he obviously led. It was far from gentle, he kissed me hungrily, like he was anticipating the moment for so long, and he finally got it. His lips molded over mine in passionate and rough kiss and without a notice, he slipped his tongue in and played with mine. I held his waist tightly, then grabbed the back of his neck in order to pull him even closer to me. I felt his semi-hard dick rub on my core, which already added to the wetness that was forming on my lacy underwear. He moved his hand from my neck slowly down across my collarbones, grabbing my breast.

“No bra? I guess you are a bad girl after all,” he said palming my breast through the thin dress. I whimpered softly in his mouth, which only made him more eager to see what his next moves could make me do. 

There was a desk in the room and, in a few swift moves, he picked me up and placed me on the desk. He spread my legs so he could come in between them. I was desperate for his touch. It was becoming unbearable and he knew it, he just wanted to play with me more - and he was winning. Bottom of my dress was completely lifted and spread out on the table, and once he had a sight of my wet lacy underwear, he chuckled and lifted an eyebrow.

“Already this wet for me, dear?” I could only nod. He liked that I was falling apart from his touch, he loved the fact that I was this desperate. This felt like a hook up in an after hours club, except the fact I would never let anyone come this far. Still, Harry was very different and I couldn’t care less at the time. 

With my permission, his hand traveled across my breasts to my inner thighs. Cold breeze of his rings - the ones that drove me crazy - were giving a special sensation to my already sensitive skin. He continued to kiss me roughly while teasing me to no extent. His fingers finally moved over to my clothed clit, rubbing circles and preparing me for what comes next. I let out a few messy moans, especially when he started kissing my neck, gently biting and then blowing hot air on marks he left. My body was exploding with different kinds of senses, and I wanted one more.

“I want you inside of me,” I panted barely audible, only to feel him smirk on my chest. What made him speed up his actions was me starting to palm his prominent bulge through the thin material of his pants. Low groan elicited from his throat and made him push my panties to the side. He ghosted his fingers over my wet slit, rubbing my clit up and down - sliding easily and teasing my entrance, until I was becoming more impatient than before.

“So wet for me.. What do you want baby girl?” 

“Please,” is all I managed to say. 

“I want to hear you say it. What do you want?” He repeated and stopped his actions all together.

“Your fingers deep inside of me, Harry.” I barely managed to request.

“Now that’s a good girl.” he said and did as I pleased. Two fingers curled and thrust inside of me searching around for my spot. Harry watched my face, my eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing. He sped up his pace, only to slow down again and rub my clit with the pad of his thumb. He was enjoying this way more than he should, considering I stopped touching him - which was very hard to focus on at the moment.

“I bet you taste good, too, huh?” he said, pretty content that he got me in this state. He pulled fingers out of me and licked them, closing his eyes and moaned.

“Would love to have you cum all over my mouth now,” he said. “Why don’t you try it yourself?” he said and I opened my mouth. He pushed two fingers in my mouth and I sucked them as seductively as I could, considering my core wanted more of him. With his free hand, he pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my breasts. He played with them, rubbing my nipples between his fingers and tracing over them with his cold rings. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I pulled his hand to my pussy, begging for him to touch it. That only turned him on even more and he used his other hand to take off my panties and continue the fingering that he started. This time, he thrust faster, hitting every spot I needed him to hit, and I held on his shoulders. My moans got louder, so he put his hand over my mouth, which made me more turned on, if possible. 

After some time of messy kisses, his fingers fucking me senselessly and other hand playing with my breasts, I was close to an orgasm and I wanted to let him know. 

“Harry, I’m so close, please don’t stop,” I moaned out, way louder than I should’ve. He decided to encourage me and slipped a few dirty words out, which only brought me closer to my high.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?” 

“Yes,”

“Cum all over my fingers, baby girl, come on,” and that’s all it took for me to spill all over his fingers. I held onto his shoulders, squeezed them so hard that he could certainly feel it. My head was spinning with pleasure I never felt before with a guy and I moaned his name repeatedly until I was coming from my high. He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean and we continued to kiss, like we never kissed each other before. 

I decided it was time to return a favor that could possibly lead into something more, so I undid his belt and unzipped his pants.

And that’s when we heard the voices in the hallway.

We quickly fixed our clothes, but nothing could help the way our faces looked, the way my makeup was smudged and my hair was messy. He took my panties and put them on the inside pocket of his suit saying “These are mine now, sweetheart.” I obliged even if those were one of my favorite panties.

An old colleague of Harry’s entered the room, looked at us confusingly and started searching for his coat. 

“Party is over, Mr. Smith?” Harry said and the older man nodded.  “Yes. Did you kids have fun?” 

“Sure did, we wanted to talk but couldn’t hear each other over the loud music.” Harry saved the situation while I was just standing there, still unable to comprehend what’s going on and what happened five minutes ago.

“Sure. See you on Monday, Harry.”

We left the room shortly after the older man and went to the main space where the party was.

“You are so fucking hot. I’m still hard, it’s very hard to cover it. Knowing you are naked under that dress is not making it easier.” he whispered sternly to my side, waving to his colleagues that were leaving, clearly displeased he couldn’t have more of me.

“I will pay you back, Harry. I promise.” I winked and proceeded to my parents’ table. “Come and say bye before you leave.”

“Will do.” he responded.

“Where were you?” my parents started to ask questions but all I could think about was Harry and my wish for this fire he started, continues it’s pace. I could barely walk because my thighs were shaking, so I very was pleased when I heard we were heading home. Even though I wanted to stay and just look at Harry all night, I was in a big need of shower and bed.

My parents said their goodbyes to everyone and Harry was last. After shaking hands with my parents, he approached me and politely hugged me.

“You were lovely, dear. I want to see more of you.” and kissed my neck lightly, subtly. He handed me a piece of paper, which I reckoned was his number.

“In case you want to pay me back. Oh, and I love the fact that I make you go home naked underneath that dress. It makes me hard and I will be thinking about you all night.”

“Is that so? See you soon, Harry.” I said after writing my number on his arm, above his palm.

Ride in a car seemed longer than usual and I tried not to squeal from excitement of tonight’s events. Even though Harry got me to my high, to a high so intense I never felt before, I found myself more eager and hungry for him. And that’s when I got a text.

“I can’t wait. Meet me in front of your house at 3 AM.                                       H. “

-

PART 2

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[shedreamsofstars]

our union is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, lying to keep - chapter one

you've all heard of 'pretending to be married when you're not', now get ready for 'actually married but pretending you're not'

When Tohru and Kyo accidentally find themselves married, they must keep their new union a secret from their friends and family. That's easier said than done when you're both newlywed dorks who just want to spend some quality time with one another whilst said friends and family are always one step away from discovering the truth.

Next chapter

"Oh, Kyo-kun!" Tohru exclaimed with a soft gasp, tugging on her boyfriend's hand to grab his attention. "There's a cart over there with handmade jewellery, can we go look at it?"

Kyo blinked at her slowly, watching as her simple white dress fluttered in the breeze before following her gaze towards a small wheeled cart loaded with all kinds of sparkly pieces crafted from metal and gemstones.

"Yeah, course we can. We can do whatever you want," he said, nodding for her to lead the way.

After spending the better part of two month's apart from Tohru to work at his new job and complete all the paperwork for their new home, Kyo had finally received the key to their apartment earlier in the week. Neither him nor Tohru could stand the idea of spending another day apart, so the pair had moved in the next day.

Whilst he'd been at work all week, Tohru had been decorating the house and searching for jobs nearby and had been ecstatic at discovering that there would be a spring festival in a nearby town. Kyo had agreed to the idea instantly. This was their first weekend together in months and he planned to enjoy every second of it with his girl.

"Let's go!" Tohru said excitedly, rushing ahead so fast that he had to jog to keep from being pulled along after her. The pair of them made quite a sight as they moved through the colourful crowds of the town festival hand in hand.

Kyo had opted for his usual plain shirt and jeans combo, but with the weather being warmer than expected, he was starting to regret having gone for the black shirt. He undid the top button with his free hand as they arrived at the stall, watching on in vague amusement as Tohru spaced out at the sheer variety of jewellery on display.

She marvelled at the gemstone rings, the sparkly earrings and the intricate necklaces with an intensity that could only mean she was picking out what would suit her friends the best, but when her attention shifted to the bracelets scattered haphazardly across the front of the stall, Kyo's gaze turned wary.

Ever since he'd been freed from having to wear his own beads, seeing anything aside from a watch on a person's wrist left a sour taste in his mouth. Thankfully she didn't dwell on them too long, shifting her gaze back to a pair of earrings she thought would look nice on Kisa.

"What do you think?" she asked, holding them up to the light.

Kyo squinted to get a good look at them. They were small and pretty and looked like something little Kisa would refuse to ever take off. Tohru really did have a strange knack for picking out the perfect gifts for people.

"I think they'll look great on Kisa," he started, holding them up towards Tohru's ear. "But … they'll look even nicer on you."

The instant blush that fluttered to life on her cheeks had his heart skipping a beat. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately – surely that couldn't be good for you?

"You're so silly Kyo-kun," she said happily, handing over the earrings and the money to the vendor. "I can't wait until we have a housewarming party and I get to give presents to everyone."

"Uh, aren't you supposed to receive gifts at a housewarming party, not give them?" he said blankly as Tohru thanked the vendor for the earrings. He took the bag from her, swapping it out for his hand as they began to wander away.

"Yes, but I just can't imagine everyone visiting and leaving empty handed. And gifting is so much fun, why would we miss out on that!"

Kyo shook his head but he didn't say anything further. If gifting things to others made her happy, then that was all that mattered to him. "Oh," he said, bringing them to a stop. "I'm sorry Tohru. I didn't ask you if you liked anything for yourself back there."

"Oh that's okay, I wasn't looking for myself anyway."

"Are you sure, because we can go back, no problem?" he assured her, beginning to turn back. Tohru refused to move though and he turned back to her.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said with a sweet smile, leaning in towards him a little as she spoke.

"Well now I just feel bad for not paying enough attention before," he grumbled, annoyed at himself for getting distracted by his own thoughts.

"It really is fine Kyo-kun. Besides, you can make it up to me by getting us some kakigori. It really is quite warm today and they always have so many different flavours, I never know which to choose!"

"Oh, they have that here?"

Tohru nodded. "I saw someone eating some earlier. They were coming from that direction" she said, pointing towards the other end of the street. There was a lot of people in the way so he couldn't quite see across, but he did spot another festival goer with a small pot of shaved ice.

"Well come on then, we haven't got any time to lose," Kyo declared as the pair of them set off in that direction. They made it about half-way across the street before they found themselves coming to an abrupt stop when a crowd of people blocked the walkway completely.

"I wonder why everyone's just stopped here?" Tohru asked glancing around for some sort of explanation. "It looks like they all want to go to that shrine over there. Do you know whose it is?"

Kyo shook his head. "No, but we can go check it out. I know you like to leave an offering whenever you can." He didn't really mind taking a detour on the way to dessert.

"Hmm," Tohru agreed. "I'd like that."

"Alright," Kyo said, catching sight of a small woman dressed in plain clothing who seemed to be attempting to wrangle the crowd outside the shrine. Tightening his grip on Tohru's hand so as not to lose her, he began to work his way towards the woman.

"Excuse me," he called out as he got close enough. "Is this-"

He never got to finish his question. The woman let out a high shriek of excitement the moment she set eyes on him, her wide eyes darting between him and Tohru.

"Oh goodness! It seems we have the perfect pair of volunteers for our last spot right here!"

"Uh, volunteers?" Tohru mumbled beside him, cocking her head in confusion.

"You are here to visit the Musubi no Kami Shrine, yes?"

"Yes, but-" Kyo started before being interrupted again.

"Lovely, then if you'll just follow me up these stairs into the courtyard we can begin right away," the woman declared, shuffling up the stairs with the energy of someone half her age.

"Oh, okay," Tohru stammered as the crowds parted to let them through, ushering them after the woman with kind smiles. "I don't know what's going on, but it seems kind of rude not to follow."

"Yeah," Kyo agreed as the pair began to ascend the steps after the woman, who he now assumed was a shrine maiden. What harm could come from entering a shrine anyway?

"Ah, here they are! Come to the centre with the others my dears, that's it," the woman said as she led them to the middle of the shrine courtyard. People had gathered along the edges, but there were three other couples standing in the centre.

The shrine priest stood to the right of the altar, wearing the usual traditional attire whilst the short woman who led them here took up a spot to the left. The altar itself was piled high with offerings from fruit to coins, all neatly placed along the slab of stone.

"Excuse me sir?"

Kyo tore his gaze away from the front of the shrine to find another woman dressed similarly to the one by the altar holding out a sheet of paper for him. "I just need you and the lady to sign these before we begin the ceremony."

"Um … yeah, sure?" Kyo said politely, accepting the pen and scratching out his name at the bottom and handing it over to Tohru.

"You must want to lock this pretty lady down before she changes her mind, huh," she said to Kyo with a conspiratorial wink.

Kyo laughed nervously in response before wondering when exactly he had picked up Tohru's little habit. He was so distracted by the thought he didn't fully consider what exactly it was the pair of them had just signed their names to.

"What's going on Kyo-kun?" Tohru whispered from beside him once the lady had left.

"I think we just got dragged into the middle of some sort of feudal re-enactment, but I'm not sure." He was fairly certain this was some sort of re-enactment at least. The papers were likely just permission to be included.

Tohru let out an excited gasp. "Like a play? Oh, how exciting!"

Of course she would think so, Kyo thought with a smile before the priest at the altar drew everyone's attention by hitting the large gong beside him. The crowds fell silent as the ring resonated across the shrine, dying out by the second.

"Welcome one and all. Now that we have enough willing participants, let's get this going shall we. I'm sure our couples are eager to get this over and done with."

There was a low chuckle of agreement from the crowds.

"Alright, if you could all hold your partners hands in front of you, then we'll begin."

Tohru and Kyo did as they were told, facing each other and holding hands as the priest went through the ceremony step by step. The re-enactment was pretty simple Kyo thought as they followed along with the other couples.

There was some sake ritual that he didn't quite understand, and the recitation of a prayer, but it wasn't until a shrine maiden appeared with paper rings that Kyo figured out just what ceremony they were re-enacting for the crowds.

He felt his cheeks heat up instantly, but if Tohru caught onto the same thing, she didn't seem to show it. She just seemed blissfully happy at being able to partake in something where she didn't have to be a mean stepsister.

With the priest's speech over, the crowd erupted into cheers of joy and cherry blossom petals were flung into the air, hanging like pink crystals in the sky before showering down around everyone in the shrine.

"Oh, I think we're done," Tohru said as the other couples embraced around them. "That was so fun!" she smiled.

"Congratulations you two, I hope you live long happy lives together," the lady beside them said, handing over the two rings for the pair of them to do with as they pleased before shuffling away.

"Um … thank you?" Tohru said, accepting them with a warm smile. "Kyo-kun, look at how pretty these are, and we both get one too!"

"Uh … yeah," Kyo replied, his cheeks still burning.

"Oh goodness, you two really do look so wonderful together," someone cooed from behind him and Kyo turned to see the shrine maiden he had spoken to outside. "How romantic that your wedding anniversary will fall on the first day of spring forevermore!"

"Our wedding anniversary?" Tohru said looking as lost as Kyo felt. A sudden air of panic overcame him, and the blood rushed to his ears as he finally caught onto the woman's words.

"Those were … real wedding vows?"

"Of course. We may do on the spot weddings, but they are perfectly legal and binding," the woman said happily before pausing in thought. "Wait … you did know that right? I mean, the papers you signed clearly said-"

"Yeah, yeah, of course we did," Kyo said hurriedly, lying through the grimace that threatened to overtake his face. He turned towards Tohru who was doing a significantly worse job of hiding her own panic.

"Definitely. Of course we did. How silly would it be if we thought it was just pretend the whole time," Tohru babbled, that nervous laugh of hers resurfacing. She likely would have continued to talk, but Kyo squeezed her hand firmly and her panic seemed to subside a little.

"Oh good, I thought we'd done something terrible there for a second. Becoming husband and wife is nerve wracking yet exciting adventure so you have nothing to be worried about. I must go and congratulate the others before they leave, but I shall leave you with these papers to fill in and send off should you need them."

"Papers for what?" Kyo asked a little suspiciously. They'd already accidentally signed themselves into becoming life partners with the last papers someone handed them, was this one to take their souls hostage too?

"There's your marriage certificate and the paperwork to legally change your names should you require it. We only hold a marriage license at the shrine, so that extra work will fall to you unfortunately. Good luck to you both on your new journey, although from the way you look at each other I hardly think you need it."

The lady inclined her head politely before shuffling away, leaving Kyo and Tohru alone in the middle of the shrine. Kyo took a deep breath as he took a moment to take in everything the woman had just said, his fingers tightening around the scroll of paper she'd handed him.

"Um … Kyo-kun?"

He glanced down to see Tohru watching him curiously.

"Yeah Tohru?

"We're … really … married?"

"We are," he replied quietly, careful not to let any inflection colour his words. They had never spoken about marriage in so many words, so he had no idea how she would react to the news or what she would be feeling in that moment.

Probably confused like he was, but Kyo also found a little kernel of happiness inside of him too at the thought of knowing he was tied to Tohru in a significant way.

"We're married," Tohru repeated a little more assuredly this time, the small smile on her face widening by the second. "Kyo-kun, we're really married!"

This time Tohru rushed forward, clinging to the lapels of his shirt as she pressed herself closer to him with a beaming grin on her face. Her closeness was all he needed for the kernel to pop, and suddenly Kyo's own grin matched hers as the happiness puffed up inside him.

"I know, I can't believe it." Her face dropped a little at his words and he felt the need to clarify immediately. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy. I always wanted-" Kyo cut himself off a little embarrassed as Tohru watched him curiously.

"You did?"

"Of course … eventually at least. Did you?"

"I really did," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

His arms were around her in an instant as he kissed her gently, smiling against her lips as she struggled to keep from giggling. "I'm actually going to get to call you my wife," he whispered, running a reverent hand through her hair.

As much as he wanted the moment to last, it didn't take long for reality to come crashing down around him and Kyo's bliss turned to dread in the blink of an eye. He groaned incoherently, releasing Tohru in favour of grabbing his knees with his hands.

"Kyo-kun, are you okay!?" Tohru said worriedly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder. "Kyo-kun? Oh no, is this too much at once? Oh no. It's okay, I'm sure we can fix this. We'll tell them it was a mistake and-"

Kyo stood and pulled Tohru into his chest to silence her, holding her in a loving caress to keep her from jumping from one wrong conclusion to the next.

"You could never be a mistake Tohru. I couldn't be happier that we're husband and wife, however it happened but … it's just … Master is going to kill me for not inviting him to my wedding!"

Tohru squeaked in alarm as Kyo's words shattered her little bubble of happiness. "Oh no, he'll be so upset. What are we going to do? This is terrible. This is really bad"

"I know, I'm such a terrible son. What if he doesn't-" He stopped as Tohru's finger pressed against his lip.

"Don't say that Kyo-kun. Master would never think that of you. He's kind and he loves you so much. This was just a simple mistake. He'll understand, I just know he will.

"Yeah maybe but … oh god," Kyo said, suddenly looking more alarmed than even before as the faces of Arisa Uotani and Saki Hanajima came to the forefront of his mind. "Those two…" He shuddered violently, unable to finish his thought.

"Oh, Uo-chan and Hana-chan," Tohru said as she caught on to his line of thinking, her nervous laugh bursting through. "This really is bad Kyo-kun."

... xxx ...

thanks for reading! come join us and talk kyoru on discord, invite in replies <3

Next chapter

[movienotesbyzawmer]

April 10: Rocky II

(previous notes: Rocky)

When this movie came out I was a little kid living in Northern California, and we used to go to huge drive-in movie complexes that had like six screens. No matter what movie you were watching, you could see other movies from your lot. I don't remember which movie we were watching at the time, but I remember being distracted by a nearby screen showing Rocky II. I totally watched the ending in suspense. It was eventually on cable a lot so I was able to see it for real, but still like 40 years ago.

Anyway, I wonder if this movie will have the effect of dulling the charm of how the first movie ended, so climactically and with appealing suddenness.

Also, is this the only one of the first four movies that doesn't have a rollicking hit song emerging from its soundtrack?

Stallone famously wrote each of these movies all by himself, and starting with this one he is the director of a bunch of them as well.

Same kind of intro with the fanfare, except the music sounds very clearly, to me at least, to not be playing on real horns. I think it's synths. "Modern".

We're now just watching the end of the first movie. We get to relive the intense experience of seeing Adrian's face in closeup closing her eyes for one and a half seconds. The drama.

The whole first five minutes is the whole last five minutes of the first movie. That's weak. Cheap.

Then the whole opening credits follows, and it's following the ambulance that's taking Rocky to the hospital because of all the punchplay. Not a good use of this time. But more importantly: are they going to address the eyelid situation.

Rocky and Apollo confront each other in wheelchairs in front of the press at the hospital. They're still fired up.

After Rocky gets out of the hospital he rambles a lot and it's like an amateur improv scene where he's figuring out on the spot some things to say about where they are. He gets the idea to have Rocky propose to Adrian, then when she accepts he does a Tarzan wail. What a cheeky clown that Rocky is.

His eye seems fine now.

0:18:20 - the a cappela street musicians are still at it, still not very complex with the harmonies. Isn't Sylvester Stallone's brother a singer named Frank, and does he look like the guy in this scene? I bet it's him.

I'm pretty bored of this movie so far. It's like the people were clamoring for an answer to the question, "what happened after the fight", and Stallone's enthusiastic answer was "just regular stuff like you'd guess!!!!!"

Oh my. It's their wedding night and they talk like dumb, uninspired newlyweds and then kiss, and it's like the director, who remember is Stallone, directed the two of them, one of whom is also Stallone, to perform slow, exotic lip dancing and no one told him that's a thing called kissing which is normal and common.

Rocky has some money now so he and Adrian are looking at buying a house. The realtor is all "this whole place is supported by solid steel" and Rocky is all "yo Adrian that would be a great spot for a radio". It's like porn stars that have been told to ad lib for a few minutes in the beginning of the scene. Except that we aren't about to be rewarded with porno.

0:28:05 - Adrian is pregnant! They talk about it. They talk about it in small talk. "What if it's a girl" "Oh a girl I didn't think about that can you imagine".

So one of the adventures of post-the-first-movie Rocky is that he gets to do a commercial. They show the filming of that and that it doesn't go well because of his Rocky personality. And the next scene he has realized that he needs a white collar job so he's at an employment agency office and asks for a job where he gets to sit. But he's not a good fit there. So he goes and gets a job at a butcher place. He promised Adrian he was done with boxing so now we have this boring part of the movie which isn't short enough.

Okay it's definitely going in a direction of not-boxing-is-sucky-for-Rocky, because he lost the butcher job and had to sell his car to Paulie. He said "it's a great car, buckle up for safety!" Do you think Stallone actually scripted that line or did he improvise it and the director, who you may recall is also Mr. Stallone, thought it was really good and kept it in

0:46:30 - He goes to visit Burgess Meredith at the gym. BM is not helping Rocky's morale, tells him he's washed up POI-manently. He begs for a job doing menial tasks at the gym and BM tells him everyone will think he's a loser but okay. Stallone does okay looking humble about that.

When he comes in to the gym everyone is laughing at a very stupid editorial cartoon in the local news publication, it shows Apollo doing harm upon Rocky-as-a-chicken with the ingenious caption "APOLLO CREED VS THE STALLION CHICKEN". It was clearly "STALLION CHICKEN". That does not make any sense.

BM was easily persuaded by Apollo's cockiness and so he then shows up at Rocky's nad easily persuades him to accept the rematch deal. Feels like movie formula but at least it's about to be less boring.

I like BM's voice.

They're doing a thing going back and forth between Rocky training and Apollo training. Apollo's is going better, partially because his facility is kind of luxuriously spacious. Then they stuck a scene in the middle of that of Adrian working at the pet store all preggo, but having trouble lugging a weighty thing and listen my friends, I think Talia Shire acting is not good acting.

We're in a long sequence that's about how Adrian had the baby prematurely and she slipped into a coma or something, and it's made clear that she had health problems because she was stressed out and overworked because of the heavy things at the pet shop and the husband who went back to boxing. Big old guilt trip taking up a lot of the middle of the movie. Adrian is in a coma. They don't show the baby. It's all just sadness about comatosity of Adrian.

But! She eventually wakes up! And after the first ever conversation they've ever had about what to name their newborn son, Adrian inexplicably changes her tune and tells Rocky she wants him to win. "Win!" That's what she tells him. Then she says it again. Stallone writing, Shire acting, what more could you want.

Now an upbeat training montage that's more hopeful and he's obviously high energy. He must be hitting the punching bags better because just look at how confident he looks.

1:29:35 - It is the sequel to the famous running montage from the first movie. The inspired updates include a new recording of that same song but with children singing "flying strong now" or whatever, and also children following him on his majestic dash to the steps of that municipal facility. Someone probably said "do the running scene again just exactly like in the first movie", but no. Stallone was not satisfied. "We will change it a little," he proclaimed. And lo.

Oh I hope there will be a sequel to the shot of Adrian closing her eyes for considerably longer than a blink. Do you think when people stop her on the street they're like "do the eye close thing do the eye close thing! My friends will all ask if you did the eye close thing and I need to tell them yes she did I saw it and it was even better in person"

We're at the fight now. It's about to start. It's all going as expected. I truly believe that everything will be okay.

Before it starts, Apollo tells Rocky, "you're going DOWN". So maybe it will NOT be okay after all…

Seems like the shots of this fight are not as varied or interesting this time, and they're relying more on the announcer commentary telling us what to think compared to the first movie.

Now the obligatory montage to show us the rounds moving forward and them still going at it. Not the same style as the first movie, but whatever it's working fine. I'd maybe watch a boxing match if it were shot and edited like this so that it's just ten minutes.

I swear I remember seeing this imagery from across the drive-in way back in the 70s, I don't care if you believe me or not it's the truth.

Look, I know I don't know nothin' 'bout boxin' but it seems like you're supposed to use your forearms as shields kind of, and Rocky doesn't do that like at all.

The dialogue is telling us that Rocky is maybe losing going into the final round. I wouldn't have thought so… thanks dialogue!

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN" repeats Creed. Such writing I tell you. Rocky II - A Film By Sylvester Stallone.

I will never forget the carefully choreographed climax of the movie. They both crumble onto the floor and the one-to-ten countdown all slow-like as they maybe try to get back up and Apollo doesn't and Rocky barely does so he is the new world champion. Then the last couple minutes of the movie is the same basic energy as the first movie. It's like the first movie's ending was a template and they just replaced a couple of things.

They kept making more of these movies! I'm going to keep watching them! I'm going to do this notes-about-them thing!

(next: Rocky III)

[tintinwrites]

you can see me? | Poe Dameron x Ghost!Reader

A/N: This is what happens when I take a one-word prompt and write what comes to mind lol

Rating: T

Warning: Reader is a ghost. Reader’s fiance was bad.

Word count: 1,508, apparently!!

Prompt: Ghost from day six of @blackirisposts October Challenge

Summary: You’ve seen many people move in and out of your house. Poe is the one who sees you too.

GIF credit: poesddameron

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

Eight different families had lived in your home since you died.

Your fiance lived there with a new wife and eventually a set of little twins that prompted the small family to move somewhere larger in the autumn of 1899.

A handsome couple soon moved in and welcomed a curly-headed girl two years later, and they stayed until that girl became a rebellious young woman early into the 1920's.

An older man and woman moved in to downsize after their last child became married, grandchildren visiting and growing through the years until their grandparents died; the man in 1953 and the woman in 1954.

Their youngest child moved in with her husband and two teenage children and left a couple years after they moved out, in 1962.

Newlyweds came and promptly had one child every year, filling the house to the brim until they realized they needed more space in 1968.

You were alone for two years until a group of young girlfriends decided to share the house while seeking their higher education, then went their separate ways for careers or marriage upon graduating in 1974.

Another four years alone, another pair of newlyweds who had a little boy in 1982 and a little girl in 1990; they were with you longer than anyone, but they left you like everyone else in the year of 2015.

Every family was easy to get attached to and you were sad to see them go, but you were always excited to discover who you would be with next.

You found yourself attached immediately to the man who started filling the house with boxes in 2019.

His name was Poe Dameron according to some documents you'd seen and he was your eighth family. He was very handsome and he had a laugh that you enjoyed almost as much as the laughter of the many children who had lived there over the years.

He was also kind, sure to hand out candy to neighborhood children on Halloween even though most of his boxes had yet to be unpacked.

You were watching him compliment a boy's superhero costume and generously give him a handful of candy, smiling dreamily as he shut the door and turned around.

He stared at you. "Can I ask what the hell you're doing in my house?"

You paused, slowly glancing over your shoulder and then back at him.

There was no one else for him to be talking to, but there was also no way that he knew you were there.

No one had ever known you were there. No one could see you and even when you would expend your energy to knock over a dish, they would explain it away with a tilted shelf or a breeze through a window.

"Your costume is cool, but I'm gonna have to ask you not to come into my house unannounced." The costume he was referring to was the dress that had been more appropriate for your time than his.

"You can see me?" Your tone was full of wonder and hope.

"Of course I can see you. Why don't you head out of here and we can forget all about it?"

"Oh, no, I can't. You see, I'm dead."

He had his hand on the door after opening it again, staring at you for a moment and then laughing slightly. "That's funny. I really don't want to hurt you or have to call the cops, please get out now."

You tilted your head. "But I am dead. This is my home."

"I'm sorry about this." He strode to you and moved to take hold of your arm, eyes widening as he stumbled forward and his hand went right through you.

"About what?"

Perhaps he was apologizing for the way he suddenly began trying to poke you, batting his hand through your chest experimentally. But you couldn't really feel it and he was clearly trying to prove that he hadn't imagined your incorporeal form, therefore you were more curious than offended.

He quickly stepped back, muttering to himself about something being impossible and how 'this isn't the kind of crazy you are when you have a big ego'. He covered his face with his hands for a long moment, then slowly looked at you again.

"I'm not saying I'm a hard ass who refuses to believe in ghosts and all that, but I always figured they would be invisible or something. You know, the kind of thing that makes stuff fall off of tables and that's it."

"No one has ever been able to see me...I've tried to communicate by dropping things, but it takes a lot of my energy and people consider all the other reasons why things suddenly fall."

"Okay. Cool. This is probably some weird dream or I've gone crazy for some reason."

"I promise that I am very real. I haven't talked to anyone in...over a hundred years."

There must have been something to the lilt of your voice, sounding like you could start crying and like you could shout in pure joy, that had him looking at you sympathetically. "You have a name?"

Being a spirit should have meant that you had no emotion, but you had cried many times since you died and you were tearing up right then. "Y/N Y/L/N. I've been all by myself since 1894."

"Hot damn. I can't go more than a day without talking to somebody."

"I know. You've called someone on your cell phone every day since you moved in."

"You died in 1894 and you know what a cell phone is?"

"I have been here for one hundred and twenty-five years already and the only thing I can do is watch. I have seen the introduction of the radio, the television, home phones, and computers. I have watched them all fade away and be replaced with better versions, such as flat screen TVs and computer-like phones that can fit in your pocket. I have watched television shows since the 50's and listened to the most popular music, from jazz to pop."

"You've pretty much seen everything then." If this was all in his head, he was surprised at how detailed it was.

"All I had for my entertainment were the moments those who lived here would watch television or leave a book open, and then I would read the pages over and over again until I grew bored of them. I spent every hour of every day pacing and counting cracks in the walls until you moved in."

"That sounds like hell."

"It is. I enjoy having people around here even though I couldn't talk to them...I loved watching all their children. Such innocence. Such potential."

Your eyes were sad and Poe was too, certain that there was no way even his subconscious could make up something like this.

He sat on a large box that he knew was full of stuff that could hold his weight. "Do you mind if I ask how you...how did you die?"

You looked down and he followed your line of vision to see a wound right above your chest that he might have thought had been delivered to you minutes ago if he hadn't known better.

His eyes met yours.

"My fiance was always an unkind man...I suppose I angered him too much."

"You didn't." He looked at you with meaning; it had been a long time since anyone looked at you on purpose, and you weren't sure you'd been eyed that kindly even when you were alive.

There was a knock on the door and he jumped to his feet to hand out candy to little children that seemed to be dressed up as characters from a show you didn't recognize.

He stayed up half the night to ask you questions and answer some that you had as well, him enraptured by all the things you had learned in over a hundred years and you by all he had learned in a mere thirty-four years of life.

Poe slept for a couple hours and woke early to get ready for work, momentarily surprised when you came into the bathroom while he was shaving.

You really weren't something he dreamed; you watched him very closely and then moved your hand under the stream of water in the sink.

It almost made him sad to see it go through your hand.

How many times had he taken the basic ability to touch almost whatever he wanted for granted?

You gave him privacy when he had to put on his clothes, staring out a window and walking into the living room as you heard the door shut and his key turn the lock. Yet you could still hear voices.

Looking around, you discovered that he left the television on the home and garden channel. You then noticed that there were a bunch of books on the floor, near the now half-empty box he'd been sitting on last night.

Every single one of them was open to the first page.

[amydancepants-peralta]

take your hands my dear, and place them both in mine 

(ch 6 of we’re the fortunate ones), for the B99 2020 Vision Challenge 🚨

On the final afternoon of 2018, as the sky begins to turn soft with the muted pastels of fading sunlight, Amy Santiago watches from her position at the kitchen window while her husband plays with her nieces and nephews outside.  

Their squeals of laughter are contagious; the joy obvious as the sound filters through the glass and settles warm against her heart, and Amy can’t help but join in on the mirth as Jake picks up Luisa, carrying her like a superhero as they chase Matthew and Mason around the backyard.  

As the sunlight filters through the tall trees, a stray beam catches the stones in her engagement ring, setting off a sparkle that the line along her wedding band is only too happy to continue.  Amy watches with a soft smile, moving her hand slowly to continue the show before returning to the task at hand.  

Around an hour ago she and her brothers had been relegated to Kitchen Duty, all marching dutifully into place at their mother’s command.  Each sibling had been clearly marked on a colour co-ordinated roster alongside a specific set of duties, all very necessary and time reliant, and Amy couldn’t help but notice that none of her tasks involved the actual cooking of the meal.  

(Honestly.  One time.  You confuse salt for sugar one. time. and you get banished.  For LIFE.)

After cutting up the beans and preparing the salad (from the ingredients that had been carefully and deliberately placed in front of her one item at a time by Tony, one of his jobs being of course to supervise his sister), Amy had sought out the solitude of peeling all of the potatoes by the kitchen sink.  It’s a task that once may have seemed like the worst of all of them - the sniggers of her younger brothers had not fallen on deaf ears - but really Amy knew the joke was on them; because now, she had the best view of all.

Jake and Luisa had caught up to Mason by now and, after giving her the only type of landing appropriate for a superhero, they had immediately begun a tickle fight - Matthew jumping on top of the huddle quickly as Jake takes a step back to take a breath.  With his hands on his hips he turns away from the children, looking back towards the house, and as he notices Amy watching from her window he raises his hand in a wave.  His smile is wide and bright as he mimes exhaustion, wiping one hand across his brow while the other points at the tickle fight still in progress behind him.  And although she knows he can’t hear her, Amy giggles at the sight, dropping the potato peeler into the sink so that she can wave right back.    

It had been Jake’s suggestion for all of the family to join together for New Year’s Eve, and Amy knew that it was partially because he was doing his best to keep the peace amongst himself and Camila, after his ‘and another thing’ rant at dinner a few months ago.  

Thanksgiving had been interesting, if not a little tense, as her mother continued to give Jake pointed looks from her position across the table.  But Amy had stayed right by Jake’s side, resting one hand on top of his thigh whenever his leg started to jiggle with pent-up nervous energy, and by the end of the evening - after a lot of talking - all three were on (slightly) better terms.  It may have been an awkward situation, but Amy didn’t regret Jake speaking up for her.  Most - if not all - of the topics hadn’t been wrong; and in actuality, it had felt great to finally have somebody in her corner.  He was trying, in so many ways, to get her parents to accept him as a part of their family (she had noticed the Duolingo app on his phone last week, and had already thought of some fun flash cards she could make), and it was about time that they met him half way.

She had reminded him late yesterday afternoon, after they’d finally made it to the Santiago home and found refuge in Amy’s childhood bedroom, that he needn’t try so hard to extend the olive branch.  And while he had given her his best bashful look before changing the topic by pointing out her adorably hand-made scale of the periodic table, Amy knew that Jake was taking everything she said on board.  Admittedly, it did feel kind of amazing to be together with all of her family for the celebrations - the first time in four years - but she wanted her husband to feel comfortable between these walls, for it was his home now as much as it was hers.  And someday - perhaps even someday soon - they would be bringing their own children to family gatherings.  

Jake blows her a kiss from his position on the lawn, and Amy smiles brightly, crinkling her nose slightly as the joy overtakes her.  There was such a stark difference to tonight’s planned festivities, compared to all those years ago when Amy was still very deeply pining for the man she could only call her partner.  It was hard to imagine now, standing in the kitchen a newlywed with the feeling of her husband’s kiss still lingering on one cheek, that there was ever a time when Jake didn’t know just how much she loved him.  Marrying him had been Amy’s easiest and greatest decision so far, and it seems crazy to her that she once believed that what she felt for Jake was ‘just a little crush that she needed to get over’.  Clearly she had been naïve.  There was simply no getting over Jake Peralta - her heart knew that now.

With his body still turned towards the window, Jake is completely unaware of his impending attacker - aka a surprisingly quiet Mason sneaking up on him from behind - and Amy can’t react fast enough to warn him as her nephew takes a running leap and knocks an innocent Jake to his knees.  With a light-hearted shout of terror Jake lands onto the soft grass, calling out in protest to the mutiny as Luis’s two kids run over to join in on the fun, and suddenly Amy has lost all interest in preparing for dinner.  Haphazardly running the peeler over the last few potatoes, she dumps the results in a bowl next to all the other vegetables, begging leave and dashing from the kitchen before her brothers can figure out where she’s going.  If she was being honest, it probably was for the best for her not be involved with food preparation - and besides, there was somewhere else she would much rather be right now.  

*

It’s much later in the night before all of the family have come back together, adults and children alike converging on in the yard as Victor organises the fireworks he had pre-arranged (a Santiago is, of course, always prepared).  Raising eight children had meant that he and Camila had needed to purchase a larger property than most, and it was times like these with the now extended brood stretched out across the lawn, that paying off their home for as many years as they did had turned out to be advantageous.  

Amy shivers slightly as the cool breeze cuts through her sweater, tucking herself into Jake’s warmth as he wraps one arm around her shoulder, an instinctive response to her chill.  Feeling herself relax as the scent of his aftershave begins to wash over her, Amy cranes her neck upwards, shifting up to the tip of her toes in order to leave a quick kiss along Jake’s jawline.  His lips move to meet hers before she can pull away, and Amy can’t help but smile at the familiar but still wonderful feeling of Jake’s kiss.

She can still recall the moment that she knew that she wanted to marry Jake - and much like his moment with her crossword puzzle, it was as ordinary as any other moment in their day.  They had been at Shaw’s, celebrating the closing of one case or another, and she had just set down her glass onto the table, a sudden tiredness washing over as the busier parts of her day finally caught up.  She hadn’t said a word, had not even begun to lean her weight against her boyfriend’s steady presence from his position next to her, when Jake was sliding out of the booth, announcing that he and Amy were going to head home.  He had stood up and turned towards her, holding out his hand with that beautiful smile of his, and in an instant Amy knew.  One day, this man that knew how to read her better than she knew how to read herself, was going to be her husband - and it was as simple and as complicated as that.  

Jake knew all of her - all of the tiny details that when pushed together, made her complete - and loved each part wholeheartedly.  He laughed at her jokes (even when they were terrible), danced with her at the most dorkiest of moments, and listened to her rant on about molecular theory and Venn diagrams like they were genuinely interesting topics.  He made her feel seen, more than Amy had ever felt growing up in a household of ten, and he was her best friend in every possible way.

She leaves a tiny kiss at the tip of his nose as they pull away and his skin turns an adorable shade of pink, just enough for her to notice underneath the garden lights, and she laughs as his arm moves down towards it’s favourite spot along her waist.  Opening his mouth to start a retort, his eyebrows raise instead as he looks down to his right, noticing Amy’s youngest niece Nina tugging on his free hand.

“Tío Jake?” Nina asks, her voice sounding so delicate amongst all the adults, and Amy feels a surge of pride at hearing Jake being referred to as Tío.  “Will you help me see the fireworks?”  

Looking around, Jake notices that all the younger Santiago children have been hoisted onto the shoulders of their parents, sitting tall above the crowd with their heads already focused steadily on the night sky.  Nina had the unusual position of being a twin, and with her mother currently in the final stages of growing her little brother or sister, had lucked out on the chance to be on her father’s shoulders.  It touched Amy - and Jake, she could tell from his expression - that Nina had turned to him for help, and before another word can be spoken Jake is nodding, stooping slightly to grip the five year old around her ribcage before lifting her gently onto his shoulders.   

The rainbow coloured studs that lined the edge of Nina’s impossibly tiny sneakers catch the light as they swing in front of Jake’s chest, and as Victor heads back to his family to begin the countdown, they all join in.  “Cinco, cuatro, tres ..”  

Amy loops an arm around Jake’s waist, smiling up at him as he counts down with the rest of the family.  “Dos, uno!”  With everyone cheering around them, Amy moves slightly to stand in front of Jake, pushing herself to meet him for a chaste happy new year kiss as Nina claps above them.  And then suddenly, the sky is alight with colour, and the crowd turns silent in awe.  

She knows that the first time she called a man beautiful that it was Holt, and it was her overactive brain blurting out words.  But she’d owned that phrase since that day, only pulling it out when absolutely fitting, and tonight couldn’t be a better candidate.  Her husband, standing tall with her (their) niece on his shoulders, looked beautiful tonight.  The colours of the fireworks flash against his skin as they light up the sky, reminding Amy of all the colours he’s brought into her life - of all the ways he’s changed her outlook from rigidly black and white to all the shades in-between.  

He was beautiful, for the way his eyes would light up with every whizz of another round hurtling towards the stars.  For the smile that grew larger still whenever the tiniest of sparks released a myriad of glittering sparkles, following their trajectory until they’d succumbed to the pull of the night sky and faded away.  For the way his hands never loosened their steady grip around Nina’s legs, so determined to make sure that she felt safe as she craned her body higher and higher towards the bright lights above, pointing out the shapes in the sky to any and all who would listen.  

The familiar smell of gunpowder begins to fill the air, and briefly it reminds Amy that she needs to go for platinum certification this year, but for now she buries her head in Jake’s shoulder, finding comfort in his presence and hoping that they can stay in this moment forever.

There was so much potential for what this year could bring, and with seven months of marriage under their sleeve and her biological clock beginning to tick just that little bit louder, Amy can’t help but begin to imagine them doing this all again in a few years time - only then, it will be their child sitting on Jake’s shoulders.  

Children was still a little bit of an untouched subject for them - and admittedly, this was a massive oversight on her end; but when your boyfriend is given death threats and yanked away from you to live somewhere unknown under witness protection, only to return and get framed for a series of bank jobs, the bigger things tend to fall away and you just want to go and get married before the world can try to split you up again.  But watching Jake right now as he reaches gently for Nina’s waist, muscles flexing as he lifts her wriggling body away and down towards the grass again, it’s hard for Amy to see a world where Jake wouldn’t want to be a father. 

Now that Jake’s hands are free, they wrap around Amy’s middle, pulling her closer as they stand and watch the last of the fireworks take flight.  They breathe in the silence as the rest of the family begins to pull away - for bedtime was most definitely in order for a good percentage of tonight’s guests - taking advantage of the peace to pull each other in for a slightly longer celebratory kiss.  

It’s only a week later that they receive a package from Amy’s brother David, the padded envelope holding a beautiful shot of Amy and Jake holding each other as the remaining fireworks burst in front of them (and it’s perfect, because of course David is a perfect photographer as well).  And once upon a time, all that Amy would have seen in the shot was another example of how her brother was better than her in everything that he did.  But now, as she searches through her storage cupboard to find the perfect frame for the photograph, all she can do is smile at the memory it held.  

Perfection wasn’t real, and praise was fleeting.  What she had with Jake was that all-consuming, forever type of love - and she wouldn’t change that for the world. 

[darkpoisonouslove]

I’m just going to pick a few randomly because I can’t decide 5,27,31

You can always send in more if you want! I love doing these even if it takes me some time to figure them out so, please, feel free to send more! And that refers to everyone.

5 – broken

I went a little overboard with this one but can you blame me? It’s a no magic AU in which Valtor and Griffin are newlyweds. I couldn’t resist. (There’s still angst, tho.)

Griffin looked at the broken glass on the floor before turning to Valtor who had just come back with their suitcases and was leaving them next to the couch.

He stopped when he noticed the look she was giving him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, apparently already over the incident that was all his doing.

“Is this,” she looked back to the glass shards on the floor, “really the way we had to start our life in our new home?” They hadn’t even moved in yet and she already needed to break out the cleaning supplies and call someone to fix the broken window. It wasn’t exactly the way she’d imagined their married life would start. Not that she’d imagined anything when it came to that. Certainly not him carrying her over the threshold as it was done in old traditions.

“I’m sorry,” Valtor said, making her sigh. “I should’ve given you the key.” She should’ve taken it herself. Or maybe just made him wear it on his neck to make sure he wouldn’t lose it. But to be fair–to both of them–he didn’t usually lose things. Or at least the things he valued. Which was exactly what was bothering her.

She took a deep breath. “Just go call the locksmith, and I’ll clean this up,” she said, turning to go find the closet. She vaguely remembered where it was supposed to be from their tour of the house but after that Valtor had been tasked with taking care of their new home while she’d been organizing the wedding. He’d assured her that everything had been moved in successfully and the house only needed the two of them to move in. And somewhere around that time he’d lost the damn key which had led to a broken window since they had no spare. And it would take some time to get a new one without the original.

“Griffin,” Valtor caught her hand, halting her progress. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” his eyes found hers and the soft blue was like an ocean that would evaporate without her forgiveness. “I know we started off on the wrong foot but I’ll make sure that things will run smoothly from now on. You know I’m not a liar.” Whenever he’d say that, she’d inevitably believe him, for he’d never given her a reason to doubt him.

She nodded and smiled at him, her worries more or less put to rest, before she leaned in to kiss him.

He pulled her closer, pressing against her as his hand made its way into her hair while he ravished her mouth. She wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d kissed her like that. Not that he ever lacked passion, but this was something else entirely. And she remembered now that it was at times when he was afraid that he held her so close that it felt like he was trying to make her a part of him. Afraid of losing her. He’d read the thoughts in her mind even though she’d been careful to go around them from as far as possible for the sake of both of them.

She wanted to say something to reassure him but she had no air left and he was faster.

“Why don’t you go upstairs to change while I take care of the broken glass and the locksmith?” he suggested and she had to agree that that sounded heavenly. They’d just come back from their honeymoon–a thirteen hour flight–and she could use a change of clothes and maybe even a shower. “And maybe we’ll have time to… explore the bedroom before we get company,” he said against her lips, making her breath hitch.

“We did a lot of exploring on our honeymoon.” Not that she had any objections. But she’d really been looking forward to seeing some more culture and they’d ended up not leaving their hotel room for two whole days. And room service meant that they didn’t even have to go out for food.

“Not of this bedroom, though,” Valtor pointed out, making her chuckle. “What do you say?” he asked as he touched his forehead to hers.

Griffin laughed as she pulled away from him and headed for the stairs. “Maybe,” she said as she looked back at him. “You know where to find me.” She started climbing the stairs. Maybe broken did bring good luck after all.

We’ll need a cut because this got too long:

27 – boxes

An idea inspired by that set of headcanons I wrote about Griffin, Ediltrude and Zarathustra.

Griffin almost fell to the floor–her magic was the only thing that stopped that from happening–when she tripped over a box that was left right in the way when you walked into the room. She barely managed to hold onto the pot she was holding which made her see red already. The plant would’ve been doomed if she’d dropped it.

“Careful!” one of the twins reprimanded. She wasn’t quite sure which one it was yet. They were both equally annoying and she cursed Faragonda for the millionth time for turning out to be a fairy and starting a chain reaction that had left her having to room with the two sisters.

“Unless you want to turn yourself into a toad,” the black-haired witch spoke before her lips got pulled into a vicious smile since the thought apparently entertained her.

“What’s with all the boxes?” she asked, making sure to sound extra exasperated just to irritate them both as she left the pot with the plant on the floor next to her bed.

“Those are breakable so, please, don’t destroy them,” the green-haired twin said in the same tone of voice, pronouncing the ‘please’ as if it was the most vile word in existence.

Griffin looked at the labels of the boxes since it was obvious that neither of her “roommates” intended to tell her what they contained. “Those are a lot of animal parts,” she said, trying to keep the emotions out of her voice but her brain disagreed with her. It wasn’t that she cared for animals or was scared or anything. But it was disgusting to have so many dead insects in your bedroom.

“That’s Zara for you,” the black-haired witch–Ediltrude then–laughed. “You’ll get used to it. And to the smoke from the failed potions, too.” Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to recall more details. “And to the side effects of those.”

Griffin was about to object to having experiments with potions run into the space she had to share with them but Zarathustra spoke first.

“Hey, I’m good at this,” she glared at her sister. “And of course, there’d be some mistakes. I’m working without instructions sometimes,” she motioned to whatever it was she was currently doing and Griffin noticed a frightening lack of any papers or books on her desk. She was working without any directions indeed.

“You’re a total disaster, sis,” Ediltrude waved her off which only had Zarathustra step closer to her, looking like a bull that was ready to charge at the red flag waved in front of it.

“And when was the last time you did some independent work instead of just following instructions, little sis?” she asked through gritted teeth, making Griffin plop herself down on her bed in despair. From the short interaction she’d first had with the sisters she’d learned that the only thing more annoying than the two of them making digs at her was the two of them arguing with each other. And it was happening again. She’d spent a total of eleven minutes with them–she was counting the seconds of her torture–and they’d already managed to get into a fight four times.

“Talking shit again, I see,” Ediltrude glowered as she jumped from the desk, towering over her sister since she was a lot taller. Especially in her heels.

Griffin huffed in total exhaustion, drawing their attention to herself. From the glares they both gave her she could tell it would be a long day.

31 – lies

I wanted to come up with something that felt more original which is why it took me so long to figure this out. But it’s here now and… Current mood – what have I done?

It was rather strange to lie next to Faragonda. It was like having a sleepover again and she was glad they’d managed to fix their relationship to the point where remembering the good old days didn’t leave an acrid taste in her mouth. But this time it was not friendship or laughter that had brought them together.

Faragonda had come to tell her that there’d been… a breach at the Omega portal on Andros. And then she’d offered to stay with her for the rest of the night. She couldn’t have denied if she’d wanted to. But Faragonda didn’t seem quite there herself.

“If you got the chance,” she started, wondering whether that was a good idea but leaving things unspoken seemed too cruel to both of them, “you wouldn’t kill him.” She didn’t want to start with that but she knew Faragonda too well to not sense the abnormal amounts of dark energy flowing from her. Of course, it could be because she’d just seen her student blinded which Griffin was sure would’ve sent her into a fit of murderous rage had she been in Faragonda’s shoes. Even if Layla had healed herself. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t one thing. There was a hurricane of memories swirling in her own head and she knew Faragonda was at the same mental place. Or as close as it could get at least.

“True,” Faragonda said, her voice quiet but not because of hesitation or shame.

Griffin had expected that much. It was why she’d went for their old way of talking things out when it was too hard to say the words as they were in your head. There was no need for hiding and lying between the two of them since neither of those was possible anyway. But some things were too difficult to say and too acidic to be kept inside. So they played a game of guessing in which lies were true.

“I can’t stand the thought of him hurting you, too,” Faragonda was now speaking as they normally would, without turning things around on one-eighty so that they’d be easier to say. And Griffin wished she could reassure her that that wouldn’t happen but she’d be lying. And that was not the kind of lie Faragonda would accept. Not even to soothe her restless mind that was no doubt preoccupied with the memories of Oritel and Marion’s death. It had hit hard enough to make her willing to murder. And that was something that terrified Griffin because it spoke loud and clear of Faragonda’s pain and yet, she had no idea how to help her. “Taking you away…”

“He won’t be able to do that,” Griffin said as she took Faragonda’s hand in hers. That she could promise her. He could do many things to both of them–a lot of which most certainly worse than death–but not that.

“He hates you,” Faragonda fired out as she pulled her hand away, running from false, empty comfort just like Griffin had thought she would. But that wasn’t what her words were.

“I know.” That was something that had been proven many times. Yet, it still hurt enough for her to wish to deny it, wish to jump back into a version of their game where they could change the truth by not accepting it. “That’s exactly why I’m saying it. I know him best.” And she knew he wouldn’t let her live in peace but he wouldn’t kill her either. For that would end her suffering. And he had too much hatred to spare to deprive himself of a target to aim it at. Especially the one that had hurt him like no one else ever had.

“You don’t love him anymore?” It didn’t escape Griffin’s notice that Faragonda’s tone was questioning. As if she wasn’t quite sure whether this was part of their game or reality. And she wished for that uncertainty, too, because knowing the answer hurt too much.

“True,” she said even though confirming the lie was just as hard as saying the truth would’ve been. She never would’ve been able to speak those words. Or their opposites for that matter. Because the truth was that both hurt. Both burned. In different ways. But still enough to leave vicious wounds behind that could only be soothed by one thing. And that wasn’t the lies she told herself, but a truth that would never come from him. For Valtor would never love her again.

[lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime]

Epilogue 3 - The promise

Maia sighed and approached the already worn suitcase, opening it before she looked inside, even though she could only see the floor and the stairs.

-Newt! Come on we are going to be late!

-Coming!

The woman laughed and turned away, picking up her purse as Newt stepped out of the suitcase, ready to go to Queenie’s and Jacob’s, who had invited them to dinner after their honeymoon. Maia couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the simple but beautiful ceremony and celebration of the wedding between her friends, who were the perfect pair of perfect couples.

-Why are you smiling?- Newt asked behind her.

She turned and shook her head still smiling.

-I was just remembering the wedding. I’m looking forward to hear all about their honeymoon in Hawaii, it has to be wonderful.

-Would you want to go?

Suddenly Maia laughed and Newt frowned confused.

-Darling- she put her hands on his chest –I don’t want to imagine the damage that your freckled and immaculate skin would suffer.

-Well, I could always do a sun repel spell.

-I’m not going to risk it. Let’s go.

The man smiled and took her hand, both of them going down the stairs of his apartment to meet Maia's parents, who were also invited.

The newly married couple had chosen a nice country house where Queenie could practice magic freely and it was communicated with a road leading to central London so that Jacob could go to work at his bakery.

Richard drove while chatting animatedly with Newt, who had a very good relationship with his girlfriend's parents. Although he was nervous at first, Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter had welcomed him with opened arms. They parked at the entrance of the house, whose door opened almost before they could get out of the car.

-You are here!- Queenie went down the three steps of the porch and hugged Newt first, then Richard, Maggie and Maia that laughed because of the energy of her friend –Teenie and Theseus are in the garden with my Jacob.

-I’m sorry for being late, it’s my fault- Newt admitted with a shy smile.

-Don’t worry! Actually they had arrived soon, follow me!

The four of them followed Queenie around the house, arriving at the huge garden that, if not for a fence, would merge with the field. Tina and Theseus got up from the table together with Jacob and went to greet them all. Meanwhile, Queenie was in charge of making the food appear from the kitchen, so they all sat ready for dinner.

Jacob and his wife told them their days in Hawaii, making everyone present smile, even Theseus allowed himself to catch Queenie's joy. Tina couldn’t feel happier about her sister and brother-in-law. They all remembered the day of the wedding between laughs and they spoke of the plans of the futures of the newlyweds, who admitted to having thought of being parents as soon as possible.

When they finished dinner, the Goldsteins and Maia took over the plates and cutlery in the kitchen while Theseus, Newt and Jacob moved the tables, except one, in the garden. Maia's parents resigned themselves to being seated at the refusal of the rest to move a finger. Theseus and Tina made small lights appear around them, Queenie and Maia stayed in the kitchen to get different drinks while Jacob picked up a radio to put music on.

-You look radiant- Maia commented taking the glasses.

-I think I’m going to explode of happiness- Queenie said laughing -I never thought I would feel like this.

-You don’t know how happy it makes us seeing you two like this.

-Someday you will feel the same.

Maia looked to the garden through the kitchen’s window, seeing how Newt was laughing with her parents, making her smile.

Both women joined the rest of the group with drinks and sat down to chat, but not long after some of them were encouraged to dance to the music, except the Scamander brothers who simply watched with small smiles. Both made appear figures that danced with them, animals that all knew and creatures that Newt had studied. At the end of a song, all but Maia returned to their seats. She frowned in confusion.

-Are you tired already?- she heard someone coughing behind her and, when she turned, she found Newt –are you going to dance with me?

-No- he laughed looking at his feet –I’m not good with my feet, nor my words but…

Suddenly he got on one knee and took a small box out of his pocket. Maia put her hands over her mouth, her eyes widening as the rest laughed with joy. Newt opened the small box, showering a ring that was already familiar to the woman, it was the ring of her grandmother. She lifted her head and looked at her parents who were smiling at her, her mother wiping her tears.

-Maia- Newt started to talk and she looked at him with a trembling smile –I… I-I… I’ve practiced with Scamy and Pickett but I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say.

Maia laughed and knelt in front of him, brushing his bangs off his eyes and stroking his cheek as she knew it calmed him. Newt sighed and smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing her fingers before saying.

-I love you and that’s what I can offer you with my completely loyalty. I always knew that my future would be the magic creatures but I never thought that I would meet someone I could share it with, someone who could understand me, who would get interested in my world and that could make me feel… Like this- he laughed nervous –what I want to say is that I want to be with you, forever. Will you marry me?

The woman laughed, a couple of tears rolling down her cheeks while she nodded.

-Yes, of course I will marry you.

Newt let the air out as he smiled, the rest cheering them enthusiastically. He took the ring carefully and, despite his shaking hands, he put the ring on the ring finger. Maia put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, hearing small explosions on top of them. They pulled away and saw fireworks that Queenie had created. Newt took Maia’s hands and they both got up from the ground, being hugged by their friends and family immediately. However, between hugs and kisses of congratulations, Newt and Maia couldn’t stop smiling at each other, the promise of their future more real than ever.

[alifeenrouteblog]

a letter to my future significant other

Two things to note. Once, I wrote this over the course of many months so the timeline and where I am does not always track. It jumps around a lot. Second, The gender of this fictitious person is not the point of the essay. I wrote this to a man, to simplify the use of pronouns, but I am a firm believer that sexuality is a spectrum and I may not end up with a man.

To my significant other,

I’m not sure when I am sharing this with you. Maybe it’s the day I decide that I love you. Or maybe I’m reading this as our wedding vows. Or giving this to you the night before our wedding. I don’t know. Because the truth is, at the time I am writing this, I don’t know you. I don’t know how we met. Or when. I know that right now, I can’t wait to meet you. I know I will share this with you. I know I will meet you. I know that I cannot wait for our lives together, the life we create, side by side. I know that we are best friends. I know that I will love you unconditionally and you will love me unconditionally, each and every day after we meet.

I’m in Budapest right now, alone, and I miss you dearly. I went to the bath houses today and saw couples smiling, splashing, and laughing. My heart hurt that you weren’t here. So, I spent the day thinking about us traveling to unknown countries together. I thought about us getting lost in cities together. I imagined us going to places you’ve been but I have not, and you show me the best spots in town, unknown to tourists. We will swap stories of trips we took before we knew each other, laughing at the hijinks we got ourselves into, but silently grateful that we don’t have to travel without each other anymore, if we don’t want to.

In the pool of the bath house today, I daydreamed about our trips where we to do nothing but lie in the sun and sand, playing in the water; but my favorite part is listening to the waves, reading, next to you. I thought about how our hair gets sandy, salty, and mine is knotty and how I return to our home with pink skin and extra freckles. You said it’s cute when I inevitably complain (but really, I’m searching for a compliment).

I’m back in the US and it’s wedding season. Every photo on my Instagram feed of a beautiful bride in a gorgeous dress kissing her loving husband stings a tiny bit. Not because I don’t like that couple. Or that I’m jealous. But because I’m so scared that I won’t meet you. Or because I miss you so much. I am yearning for you to look at me the same way I see these newlyweds look at each other. But you’re not looking at me that way yet. So, I keep thinking about our lives.

The other day, I thought about us in our home. Our walks with Daphne on sunny Saturdays. We might do different things, separately with our own friends. We will spend nights and days apart. Doing our own things. We will never police each other. We’re confident in our relationship and we don’t have to control one another. And when we’re not, we can tell each other that.

I envisioned our laziness too. Lying in bed reading on rainy Sundays. Sipping coffee. I hope you get coffee and bagels before I wake up. I’ll do it for you when I wake up first, but that’s just unlikely to happen. Because we both know I can sleep for 22 hours a day. I smile just thinking about us reading and working on our computers in bed all day.

Some weekends, we’re hungover. Maybe just me. And I have to eat breakfast to feel better, so you run to get us food. And you get way too much so we have a feast in bed, while we fend off Daphne and Pizza Baby from getting our food. While we chow down,

I thought about nights out and how you never tell me that I’ve drank too much. Instead, you will notice when I am too drunk to be in public, order a pizza and a cab, and then tell me that you’ve scheduled a pizza to arrive at the exact moment we get home. You will help me devour the pizza. When we wake up the next morning, you won’t make me feel bad for something stupid I did while drunk. I love that about you. But while we’re we recap the previous night’s funny moments you do impressions of me from the night before – making me laugh until my stomach hurts.

I am mostly happy right now, but my heart hurts thinking about how you’re not here with me right now, in Berlin. I feel lonely but I don’t want just anyone to fill this void - I want you by my side.

It’s hard loving you and not knowing you. But I do. I know that you have this unconditional love for me too, because I’m a mess, and you would not stick around for this mess unless you really loved me.

You know everything about me and still love me. You won’t judge me for my debt or the number of men I’ve been with, or how much I drink. You know that my greatest fear, before I met you, was not meeting you and dying alone. But you’ve alleviated that fear. And you make sure to remind me in some way every day, that I never have to consider that again. You know that my greatest fear is being ordinary and you make sure that never happens. You know that my second greatest fear is not living up to my father’s expectations. You console me when this inevitably happens.

I know we won’t want to have kids. But I imagine after three to five years, we will consider it because we were so in love, but immediately stop considering it. Then we’ll consider it off and on for the next decade until it doesn’t seem plausible. We will enjoy our child-less life. I hope we move a lot. I hope we’re always talking about where to settle down. Neither of us can figure it out. We’re nomadic by nature. I don’t know where our home is, but I know it is cozy and filled with laughter.

I don’t mind being alone or waiting for you, in and of itself. I’m just terrified of not being enough. Thanks to years of therapy, medicine, and self-help books, most days I believe I am enough and I really love myself. But I have insecurities that rise to the surface when I’m vulnerable. I’m just human, a human who is terrified that being single forever, which will mean I’m not enough. And I’m terrified that I won’t be enough for you. I think about this. All of the time. So, I work on myself. All of the time.

But when we are ready to spend our lives together, you are excited to marry me. You’re not scared of me or us or commitment. You’re not threatened by feminism. I will never be too much for you. You don’t mind when I’m loud, big, or angry. You won’t call me moody or abrasive. You might not always agree with me but you know that my emotions come from my passion and empathy and are always grounded in love. You’re not scared of my light. You know there’s enough light for both of us. And you will never make me sacrifice myself and who I am in exchange your love and affection.

You never asked me to take your last name. And you will never ask my dad for my hand in marriage. Because I’ve told you my aversion to these antiquated sexist traditions, most likely on our third date during a drunk diatribe.

You’re never intimidated by me or threatened by my intelligence, confidence, or success. You love me because of those things. But you love me more because I don’t ever know where to harness my energy, intellect, and passion. You will have the same conversation with me yearly, monthly, or maybe weekly, about what I should do, and you are always supportive.

I think about you reading my writing. You love it because you think I am talented and you genuinely enjoy my work. But you also love to celebrate me, put me first, let me shine, dream alongside me, and fearlessly know me.

As much as it hurts, I am grateful for this time without you. I’m glad I did not meet you in college. Or my early twenties. I need this time alone to heal from the past. I need to experience others to figure out what I want and need from you. And I’m having fun but I hate that you are not the man I make love to. I don’t think about you when I’m with other men. Only sometimes. When I’m very lonely. Most of the time you don’t cross my mind when I’m with someone else. But now, as I sit here, thinking about them compared to you, I hate that I’m not with you.

That being said, I am so thankful for all of the men who disappointed me before you, because they all taught me something. Something that made me stronger, more self-realized, more confident.

I am thankful for the firefighter for teaching me that I love big strong legs and that it is okay to want a man with a strong sex drive.

Thankful for the boy from Bumble for teaching me that I don’t have to lower my standards just to alleviate my loneliness. Never again do I need to be with someone who doesn’t ask questions about myself. Or shows little interest in me. I deserve more than a guy giving the littlest amount of effort. He taught me that when I ask a man to hang out and he says, “maybe” or “IDK” or some other bullshit answer, that he’s not my person and I don’t have to stick around to see if it gets better or try to convince him that I’m enough for him.

Thankful to my ex in Chicago; for teaching me not to lose myself in you or anyone else. How important it is to stay true to who I am and pursue my dreams. To never submit to someone else. That being in a relationship doesn’t mean I am a caretaker. Through him, I learned to look for a partner.

Thankful to the man I loved harder than anyone, until I met you, for teaching me that I need to find a partner with courage, someone who is not scared of his feelings for me. I now know that I want someone who is ready for me. I don’t have to beg for your love.

Right now, long before we’ve slept together, I sit here at the bar thinking about us in bed. You love my body. You think every inch is perfect. The stretch marks, cellulite, and rolls on my belly and thighs. You love that my right breast is larger than my left. You adore the moles on my face. You point out the freckle on right butt cheek. You love running your fingers through my hair when we kiss. When I’m sleeping, you trace the outline of my tattoos with your forefingers. After a few years, you’ve memorized them and can do it with your eyes closed.

I think about how you will have temptations and urges and want to explore, all of which is healthy. I will too. If we need to, we will have a conversation about it and come up with a solution that works for us. Because we will never hold resentment against one another.

Last week was hard for me.  I was depressed, anxious, scared, mean. I cried a lot. In public. I fought with my parents. I wished you were here. But you weren’t here, so I thought about the way you will treat me when I am having a hard time.

I thought about you rubbing my back while I have a panic attack. You do not just tell me it will be okay, you sit with me in my pain. You know that I can be a negative person. Who suffers from depression and anxiety. Who has to take an antidepressant cocktail every day to stay sane. That won’t bother you. You love me harder. And when I have dark days you know when to leave me alone and when to come lie beside me while I cry. You’ll also know that I can be the happiest person, full of life, who seeks out adventures. You love that I love everyone and how I tell them often.

I will drive you nuts. But you never doubt your love for me. You’re never weary on commitment. When you met me, you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me.

I don’t know how you express your love, but I know that I never doubt your love for me. I see how you put my needs before yours. I don’t have a job right now. I’m confused about where to go next. I’ve never been in this position before. But I have had a series of jobs where a lot of people hate me and I can’t seem to move up, despite my strong skill set and work ethic. I rub a lot of people the wrong way. It’s not their fault. But I don’t believe it is my fault either. I am who I am.

My whole life I have wished I was more like my parents, in one sense: they’re charismatic and everyone loves them. Especially at work. But what I know now is that they use their best for work and others. Not for their significant other. I see how people take out their daily stress on the people closest to them, especially their partner. I save my best for my loved ones. And I know that we save our best for each other. 

I know that we inspire each other to be better versions of ourselves, while at the same time accepting each other for who we are. We take risks and go after our dreams. Encouraging each other. When it seems impractical, we get creative and try to find another way. We work hard. Individually and collectively. We teach each other things. We inspire each other.

When promotions at work and potential moves and risks come up, we talk about them together. You support my career more than your own. Because you know that I support yours over mine. And you know that this is the ultimate sacrifice for me, symbolizing my belief that you are the love of my life, who I am supposed to be with for the rest of my life.

I know we will fight. But more often than our fights, we are open and honest with each other, about our fears, insecurities. I hope our fights are weak and infrequent. I am confident that we will work on our marriage. We will talk through things, give space when we need, and always love each other.

I know that we will experience failure, job losses, mistakes, we have each other to inspire each other to jump back. We will see our family members get sick and pass. Our businesses will fail. We will have financial hardships and when life is unbearable, and it doesn’t seem like we can’t go on, I know our love can summon the strengths for us to get through it.

What I can’t stop thinking about is the way you look at me, which is weird and difficult, because I don’t know what you look like or how you could possibly look at me. But I imagine your eyes light up as I walk into a room. I think about how you smile at me as I pontificate. And if I’m lucky enough to have a camera capture it, when we are close for a kiss, I can see the joy beaming across your face.

We grow together. You are not my long-lost soul mate, completing me. I don’t make you whole. We are two separate beings, perfect on our own. We don’t rely on each other to go places or fix ourselves. We take ourselves places.

I love you so much. I can’t wait to learn everything about you. I can’t wait to tell you all the specific things I love about you when I learn them.

Today, I am thinking about how I sometimes look at you – you don’t know I’m watching you - just think to myself that I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

The Nation has a song, “Twenty Nine”, and there’s a line in it: You know I dreamed about you/For twenty-nine years before I saw you/You know I dreamed about you/I missed you for, for twenty-nine years

And that’s how I feel. I’ve been dreaming about you for as long as I have lived. I don’t know how long I will have to wait, but I know I will never be a young bride. But when the day comes, I don’t mind how long I had to wait; every day will have been worth it. To be here with you. Because the way you look at me makes it all worth it. The way you look into my eyes, and smile.