#finding out stuff from my dad makes me realise how perfect she really was

[pierregaslays]

i was the luckiest girl in the world to have the mum i had. the most selfless beautiful angel to ever exist 🥺

[gguk-n]

Max Unravelled

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Max accidentally made an account on google plus in 2013. He came across a poetry page and enjoyed reading them. He ends up friends with the poet. He loved the normalcy she brought to his life. He didn't realise when the comfort he felt for her turned into love.

{Max's POV}

2013

I was searching for something on my gmail account when a pop up for google plus came through; without much thought I clicked on it. Some how, I'm yet to figure that out, I ended up with a google plus account. One of the few accounts I got recommended was a poetry and story account. They wrote very eloquently; I could feel the emotions in every word. I started reading all their posts in my spare time and even commenting on the ones I liked. I found my self constantly checking back to their page to see if they posted something. Their poetry was relatable and understandable. I hope they always have a good day since their words always pick me up when I'm down.

The poet I had been enjoying so much is a girl, and her name is Y/N. She's around my age; I guess that's why I related to her work so much. We spoke for the first time ever on her birthday. She made a post about it being her birthday so I wished her. She was sad about not being able to enjoy her birthday, I felt bad for her so we talked for a while until dad called me to practise. That was the start of our friendship. We ended up talking on google plus a lot. We shared the same sense of humour and best of all, she didn't know about racing. It was like a breath of fresh air to not talk about racing. She doesn't even seem interested in it; so I can live as Max for a while now.

My birthday was shit but talking to her made everything better. I can't believe I got excited about talking to someone and that someone made me feel good even on one of my shittiest days. She's one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of talking to. I really do wanna talk to her on phone, typing everything I want to say out feels tedious.

2014

I've gotten busier since this year with Formula 3. We barely get to talk anymore. She did send me her number and we chat on Whatsapp whenever we can. But obviously it is not the same. I've suggested talking on call a few time and she finally agreed; I just need to find the perfect time to get away from everything to talk to her. I felt so nervous to talk to her for some reason, what if she thought I was weird and didn't enjoy talking to me? What if she heard me and decided I wasn't fun? What if we had nothing to talk about? I called her while sitting in my driver's room, she picked up quite quickly after 2 rings to be exact.

Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Why would I say that? That sounds so fucking creepy, I face palmed myself so hard. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. She thinks I have a nice voice, do I? Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. I could hear people outside the driver's room. I quickly locked the door before answering her question. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! Did she just call me her best friend? I've never had a best friend before.

We ended up talking on calls a lot more. I would have her contact ringer saved with a separate ringtone so that I would know to answer it. She usually called at reasonable times, where ever I travelled as if she knew my schedule.

2015

I got signed with RedBull Racing's junior team, making me the youngest driver. It was such a surreal feeling. But this also meant I couldn't talk to Y/N as much as I wished I could. Training and the races kept me very busy. But she was very understanding and would always welcome me back, no matter how long I was gone for.

2021

The first time I'm regretting not telling what I do to Y/N was today when I won my first World Championship. I was surrounded by my team, my girlfriend and my family as I got out of the car after I finished P1 at Abu Dhabi but it felt strange; like I was missing someone. I wish I could share this win, the biggest in my life yet, with the person who makes me feel so special yet so myself.

When I asked her about Formula One, she didn't know about, she didn't even know the prominent figures. So, I wasn't as worried about her finding out but I did worry now; since my win was controversial according to the media. However, she never asked. Was she really unaware or playing dumb? I wasn't sure if I should be grateful I get to be just Max or sad that I can't share a huge part of my life with my best friend.

2023

Y/N and I have been friends for the past 10 years. Time really flies. I've gotten a lot better at balancing my personal and work life. Y/N is my well kept secret; like I'm the only one who knows her. She moved out for college and we've only video called since. She is still funny and still writes. I think it's so cool of her to stay passionate about what she loves and keeping at it. She loves my cats more than I love them sometimes, she get's so excited when I send pictures of them. She says they cheer her up and that Jimmy and Sassy are her virtual pets. They loved her too honestly, they would always recognise when she was on call and jump into my lap or the phone to see or hear her. She still doesn't know what I did for a living; we've kept that a 'secret' you could say. But really I just didn't know how to tell her I was a Formula One driver and a 2 time World Champion.

Today was like any other day, I hadn't spoken to Y/N at all. Whenever I called her, I would usually close/lock the door depending on who was at home. My girlfriend didn't know about Y/N. I didn't even know how to bring it up, honestly. I sat down on my SimRacing chair after I switched the livestream off. Her phone rang for a few times and then stopped ringing but she didn't answer the call. I tried again thinking maybe she was busy or didn't hear it. I called a couple times before texting her; no reply. I was freaking out. This was the first time in 10 years that she hasn't answered my calls. She won't even reply to my messages. I found myself pacing around the house. The door to the room opened to my girlfriend's daughter standing in front of me, "Maxie, why are you walking in circles?" She asked after observing me for sometime. "It's nothing" I said, trying to calm myself down more than give a reply to her question. All these horrible thoughts swirled through my mind; what if she was in an accident and no one knows? What if she got robbed? What if she hurt herself and can't get help? What was I supposed to do? I didn't even know where she lived. I just couldn't think straight. My hair was a mess with how much I was running my fingers through it, a few stands coming along when I almost pulled them out of frustration.

After 7 hours, she replied to my text. I had almost given up hope, but she said that she was fine and that her phone was about to die. I felt relieved knowing that she was ok. But the text was so out of character for her. I texted her everyday after that in hope of talking to her. We always spoke everyday and it had been years since we didn't speak for so long. Almost every text was left on delivered. I had a race this weekend which I won and went out to celebrate with everyone because they wanted me to tag along. I didn't see the text Y/N sent me a while after the race since I was at the club. I only saw it when I got home. As soon as I saw it, I called her. She answered after a few rings.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. You could clearly hear the worry in my voice. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. What did she mean by that? Her voice seemed hoarse, was she sick?Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it I wish she took care of herself instead of working so hard without breaks. Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I felt the ground slip from under my feet. My palms had gotten sweaty suddenly. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? (I stammered out) Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? I felt like I was about to lose everything. I didn't know what to say, my mouth was dry. No matter what I said, I don't think I could fix this situation. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. There was horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and my lungs felt like there was no air in them. Watching her tear up was the worst feeling.

Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. She laughed, but that stung my heart for the first time when her laugh was my favourite sound in the world. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. (I held my head in shame) Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I wanted to reach out and wipe her tears but I couldn't. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. This fucking hurt, everything she said and the way she said it. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. (I felt tears in my eyes.) Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. I felt like my world was crashing. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I was crying as she said it. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And the screen blacked out, I could see my reflection on the screen, tears streaming down my face.

After I was able to clear my head I texted her telling her that I would always be there for her and I would like to clear up the misunderstanding when she's ready. I spent the next few months thinking about her. It was starting to affect my relationship. I couldn't really give my girlfriend time when my mind was occupied with thoughts of Y/N. When my girlfriend brought it up how we were growing apart; I had a fight with her. I don't know what came over me, but not talking to Y/N or not knowing what was up with her was making it very difficult for me to focus on anything. The fighting became a constant after that. I didn't understand why she couldn't let me be. I missed my friend but she wouldn't get it.

I was SimRacing when Y/N's name popped up on my phone asking me to call her. I guess she was ready to talk it out. I really wished that this wasn't the end of our friendship. I really hoped that we could get over the misunderstanding and still be friends. I told the team I had some work and called her immediately. She answered like always; I waited for her to speak with baited breath. She started talking and we cleared everything up. I apologised for hiding the truth from her. I told her how much of a constant she was for me in my ever hectic life; how talking to her made everything better. She listened to me, I listened to her and then finally asked her to come to my home race. I wanted to meet her. I couldn't live knowing that I had the resources but didn't meet the one person that mattered to me the most. She was hesitant at first but I offered to get her the tickets and insisted on her joining me at the biggest race of the season for me and finally she agreed. I was over the moon. As soon as we ended the call, I sent her the tickets. I found myself counting down the days to the race for the first time.

I was waiting for her at the airport when she got here. My heart was beating very fast as I waited for her to come out. When I saw her; she was beautiful, shorter than I expected but she looked cute with her bag in one hand and a back pack on her shoulder, her hair in a low bun, a small smile graced her feature. I don't think I've noticed anyone with such detail ever before. Our conversation flowed easily. It didn't feel like it was the first time we were meeting. I dropped her at the hotel and went off to do media duty's at the paddock when I came back she was still asleep, traveling must've tired her out. She got dressed while I waited for her to get ready, even giving my 2 cents on what she should wear. She looked gorgeous, I couldn't help myself, staring at her. The black satin dress hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair flowed down her back, the jewellery sparkling against her body. We went to have dinner at a fancy dutch restaurant. She loved the food especially the apple tart. The moan she let out as she devoured the dessert made blood rush downwards. I found my cheeks heating up, thankfully the whole place was dimly lit. We walked around for a while after the meal, she made fun of my name but I couldn't care less. I apologised and she accepted it and hugged me. Her arms were soft and the embrace warm. I found myself wrapping my arms around her, my face buried in her neck. I was scared I was gonna lose her, forever. I've never been scared to lose anything but a race until now and the thought of not having her in my life seemed scary. She consoled me and we headed back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful except for my girlfriend being pissed; she fought with about Y/N. I don't get what her problem is, she's just a friend I've known since forever. I'm just showing her around. I was giving interviews when I saw her talking to Lando, I saw them laughing along in the corner of my eye. It made me feel strange, there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't like it. When I got back, Lando had left since it was his turn. She found Lando cute and it irked me, I was annoyed hearing her ask me to set her up with him. We got back to RedBull hospitality when my girlfriend asked me to talk to her, I left with her reluctantly leaving Y/N with Checo.

"Listen Max, I get it, she's your childhood friend and all, but it's so weird how she suddenly cropped up when I or for that matter any one knew nothing about her. People are saying stuff about us since she stepped on the paddock and the way you are dragging her along." my girlfriend spoke. "What are people saying? I will not stand any slander against her" I cut her off. She laughed dryly. "WOW, they are saying stuff about us, Max, us, that you are cheating on me with her. You've been so distant for months until a month ago, I didn't know what went wrong and you wouldn't talk either." she said running a hand through her hair. "It's nothing really. She just knows me as Max and not Max Verstappen and that's why I'm closer to her. Nothing more." I said. "It's pointless talking to you" she said turning around. "If we're done, I'm leaving, Y/N doesn't know anyone here except me." I said leaving for the door. She huffed before she followed me out. Y/N looked worried about what was going on between me and my girlfriend but I calmed her down and we spent the day together. She tagged along during quali too. I saw her praying before quali, it made my heart swell. I was starting pole and we spent the night watching a movie even though Y/N wanted me to rest before the race, I wanted to make the most of the little time we had.

Y/N hugged me before the race wishing me. I wanted to win so bad, I'd won here twice before but this was different. I wanted to win in front of her. I raced like a mad man and then I heard it. I crossed first and my happiness knew no bounds; knowing she was watching. I got out of the car and immediately ran to her; hugging her. It was cathartic. Y/N said my girlfriend looked annoyed, but I couldn't care less. I watched my girlfriend leave, annoyed. When I received the trophy at the top step of the podium knowing she was watching me from below made it so much more worth it. Y/N wanted to go out to celebrate my win and I wasn't one to say no. I went back to the hotel to get cleaned up and ready for the night.

I was greeted by my girlfriend in the room, it was dimly lit as she was sat at the corner of the bed with tears streaming down her face. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT MAX?" she screamed at me. "Am I a fucking joke? I let it slide, you said you were friends but the first person you go to after winning your race was her, what do you think people were whispering when you did that?" she said in between sobs. I didn't get what she was saying. "Do you like her?" she asked. "What? We're friends" I stated. She shook her head, "No, Max, you aren't. The way she looks at you is how I look at you. The way you look at her" She cried, "You've never looked at me like that" she lamented. "It's nothing like that" I began. "You should've respected me at the very least and broken up with me if you liked someone else, I'm not gonna be some girl's place holder till you can have her." she cried out. "You're not a place holder for her" I said. "Feels exactly like that" she said wiping her tears. I felt nothing my 2 year long relationship might be ending and I didn't care. I didn't even try to correct her, did I really like her? Was Y/N really more important to me? "We're through Verstappen, if you can't even fight for us, I'm not about to fight for us" she sighed dejected. I walked towards the bathroom to wash up while she packed up to leave. When I got out she was gone. I went to pick Y/N up.

She kept asking me about my girlfriend but I never told her that we broke up. I didn't want her to feel responsible for my decision. At the club, she got close to everyone pretty quickly. She was unstoppable, downing one drink after another. I hadn't touched alcohol since I was driving. The others kept handing her drinks much to my dismay. She asked me to come dance with her but I had the others to look after too. She was busy dancing surrounded by too many guys, one of them going as far as to touch her and grind against her. All I saw was red, I bid the guys good bye and stormed the dance floor to drag a reluctant Y/N with me; I ended up carrying her out on my shoulder. She wasn't very happy, screaming and hitting me till I put her down. She puked as soon as I put her down and joked about missing my expensive car, I didn't really mind if she hadn't since she was more important than the car. I got her medicine and left them at her side after putting her to bed.

We spent the next few days after the race sight seeing. Y/N brought up my girlfriend a few time and I ended up avoiding her. When we were cuddling while watching Barbie I felt my heart beating out of my chest as she scooted closer to grab tissue. When her hand brushed against my skin, it burnt and a weird feeling erupted in my chest. She seemed completely unaware of how she was making me feel. We fell asleep on the couch that night.

I wasn't able to avoid the girlfriend question any longer and told her that we broke up without making any eye contact on the way to drop her to the airport. My eyes stung and there was a lump in my throat; I wasn't sure it was because of my girlfriend or Y/N. I bid her farewell, she would turn back towards me to wave after every few steps; my eyes were blurry after sometime trying to prevent the tears from falling. I ended up crying after she left.

All the races after, I ended up going shopping after or before every race to collect some trinkets or stuff that was special to that place and mailing it to her with small notes attached. She would graciously open them in front of me on video call; the smile she gave me the first time she received was unparalleled. It made my stomach turn over. I wanted to make her smile every chance I got. That's how I ended up sending her a package after every race from every country until I got reprimanded by her for the excessive amount of gifts. She asked me not to send one after every race and stick to one or two in total; I was forced to agree to that request.

We were planning on spending Christmas and New Year together; she wanted to leave after Christmas but I was able to convince her to stay until I had to leave for pre-season training. I couldn't wait for the season to end and to spend the year end with Y/N. We celebrated me winning the championship on video call; even though I had hoped she could be present in person but it wasn't possible with her schedule. This championship felt better than the last two since I was able to celebrate it with her. 2021 me wouldn't believe me right now.

Y/N flew in as soon as winter break started for her. I had cleaned up the house as much as possible. I had told my cats about Y/N visiting who seemed excited. I picked her up from the airport and when we got home the cats were very excited to meet her; a lot more receptive than the other guests I've had over. We spent the next few days going to places and the Monaco GP circuit. She cribbed about walking the entire time we walked the path. It made me laugh.

The night before Christmas we fell asleep on the couch cuddling; I hadn't slept this well in a very long time. When I woke up, Y/N was no where to be seen. I sat up waiting for her to return when she came back, she looked so cute in her jumper and shorts with her hair a mess. We opened up presents after some time. She had gotten me a Sid plushie, an ugly sweater and perfume. I got her a Formula One book with my face, a coffee mug and a pendant. I wanted to get her more stuff but I was sure she would make me return it if she saw every thing. I think the house would be over run with the amount of stuff I wanted to get her. Then she brought the matching sweater she got with me; I put it on immediately. I wanted to match with her all the time. We had a bit of back and forth on the dinner but agreed on Turkish kabab.

New Year came too quickly, which meant Y/N would be leaving soon. We went clubbing on New Year eve. She didn't drink like the last time we were at the club but made friends with some of the guys there. Having a social butterfly for a friend was a bad idea. We counted the time down to midnight as the clock struck 12 and I turned towards her to celebrate I saw she was kissing one of the guys she had befriended when we entered. If the club was quite you could hear my heart shatter. That's when I realised that all these weird feeling and all the times I couldn't stop thinking about her was because I liked her, no scratch that, I loved her. I felt my heart constrict when she turned towards me and hugged me later. I didn't want to talk about it, this would ruin our friendship.

All I could think about was how it felt to watch her kiss another man. I hated it, the worst feeling, worse than DNFing or not winning. I hated knowing another man could touch her and feel her. I wasn't even sure how to bring it up since what were we if not just friends. I put myself into training for the upcoming season but those feelings I felt when she kissed another man were still fresh in my head and I couldn't get rid of them even if I tried.

I was able to convince her to join me during her spring and summer break. We had fun, I loved having her waiting for me at the end of the race. I didn't really enjoy all the media questions that had cropped up about Y/N when she was seen with me, before or after the race. During my summer break, I spent it at her place. When I got there, it was a small apartment; but it had a homely feel. She would cook food for me and we would watch movies; I had a few commitments with the team and would leave for some time but then be back. It was so nice to have some one to come home to. When she was having her book launch, I went to meet her at her launch with a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations" I said while handing her the flowers and giving her a hug. "Thank you" she replied, a smile playing on her lips. We had celebratory dinner after. Immediately after that, we were on the news. It read that I had a girlfriend, she kept apologising but it didn't matter. It made me a little warm, I'm not sure what emotions I felt hearing people speculate that she was my girlfriend.

I flew back to Netherland for the race early, she would only be joining me on the race day due to work. It dampened my mood but there wasn't much I could do about it. She flew in the morning of the race; it made my day watching her walk out of the airport. We talked all the way to the hotel where she got changed and we headed to the paddock. I had thought it through; after the qualifying, I had planned on telling her how I felt. I was gonna win this race and confess to her. Knowing that I can't hold her while someone else can was eating away at me and I wanted to take the chance before it slipped away from me.

I started the race P2 and finished it at P2. In the final laps, the only thoughts running through my head were, I really wanted to ask her out as a race winner, I can't do that now. She probably doesn't even like me like that, did I really want to ruin everything I had with her. I stumbled out of the car towards her, a big smile on her face. And suddenly I said it; "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner" emotions were running high. She insisted me to continue and when I did, she agreed to go out with me. I was over the moon, my head was reeling. This race ending was not what I hoped for but Y/N's answer was something I really was hoping for.

She waited for me in the driver's room. I couldn't help but not touch her. Her skin against mine send electric shocks through me, I couldn't help but smile at the feeling of her against me. I wanted to have this feeling for the rest of the life. I wanted to have her next to me; it took me a while to figure that out but now that I had, I didn't want to let go. I loved her and I wanted her.

We were both in the hotel room at the end of night in each other’s embrace, "Can't believe you're my boyfriend" she exclaimed. "Can't believe you're my girlfriend either." I exclaimed back. "I've liked you since I've known you" she mumbled. "What?" I asked shocked. "Yeah, I've always had a crush on you. Teenage me would lose it right now if she saw" she said. "I'm sorry it took me so long" I muttered pressing a kiss against her lips. "better late then never" she laughed wrapping her arms around my neck, flipping me to straddle my hips. She bent down to kiss me again.

I could spend the rest of my life like this, if it meant I could have her forever.

Hope you had fun. Thank you for enjoying the story!!

[nijigasakilove]

Wow, where to start. Long write up coming.

First half of this episode was very hard to watch. Makoto’s mom is the exact type of parent anyone struggling with their sexual identity or gender does NOT want to have. She’s so backwards and trapped in her narrow way of thinking that she doesn’t even realise the living hell she’s made her own child’s life.

“Are you still into girly things” ok and if he is?? Maybe support your son and respect who he is rather than put all this pressure to hide himself?? “Don’t put me in a tough situation”??? Bit rich coming from someone putting you in the toughest possible position as a child. Feeling like you can’t even be yourself around the one person who through it all is supposed to love you more than anyone is such a horrible feeling. Her criticisms are all about her and how Makoto’s behaviour makes HER feel rather than him. I hate selfish parents so much.

Like when she first discovered Makoto’s passion, her first reaction isn’t even to understand Makoto and the crossdressing thing. Instead she calls him “twisted” and attacking his lifestyle. Sadly, this is an all too real representation of East Asian, particularly Japanese culture in which the belief that “the nail that sticks out gets hammered down” is still dominant.

At least ONE of his parents is understanding and sympathetic. Usually dads are the ones with the masculinity and machismo stuff, but Makoto’s father is the nice one lmao. I really respect him asking Makoto what he wants to identify and even finding a school Makoto could go to that allows him to dress as he wants. That explains why no one at school really bats an eye about it. Just horrible they have to hide all this from the mother.

The build up to and first half of the dance just made me feel really bad because it’s so obvious Makoto felt out of place and uncomfortable. Going two weeks without being able to be himself breaks my heart. That “goodbye me” scene with him throwing all the nice clothes he got when going shopping last episode hurt a lot. Like cmon, Makoto’s more interested in his date’s wig than her 😭 why would anyone force him to live this way when it’s not who he is.

Aoi is so pure and deserves the world for how she didn’t stop trying to get to the bottom of things and ran after the garbage truck to get Makoto’s stuff back. She might be a lil slow but she’s got a heart of gold and is the perfect friend for Makoto. Their dance scene at the end was soooo cute. Fuck Gender norms. Makoto looks beautiful in a dress and Aoi looks great in a suit!

Can’t wait for next episode and the OP is for sure my OP of the season. So damn good it’s been on repeat for two weeks now and is a proper summer bop.

[lilyrizzy]

elaborate on ur thoughts for maxiel on married at first sight 👀

okay, never in a million years do i think max would ever go on reality tv BUT my thoughts if he did under the cut

okay so obviously they see each other for the first time at the wedding and i think the level of attraction is different. like, initially daniel is like, 'okay, he's kinda cute, i can work with this,' whereas max is like, 'oh my god, this man is so beautiful, he is perfect, wow.' but the problem is, max doesn't show that. in fact, max doesnt show much of ANYTHING to begin with, at least not in the way daniel is used to.

because daniel is good at performing right, so when it comes to the vows, he's cracking jokes, making max's mum and victoria laugh (obvs j*s is not there), saying the cheesy shit they all say like 'i knew i wanted to marry you from the moment i met you,' and 'this is a leap of faith but i'm ready to jump with you, baby,' whereas max is like taking it very seriously, almost to the point of like... not seeming into it? like he says stuff like, 'i will try to like you, i hope also that you will like me, i want to be a very good husband,' because thats the truth! he cant lie and say like, he wants to spend his life with daniel, because he doesnt know him yet. but to daniel it seems a little...cold, so he's not sure how to feel about his new husband.

at the reception, max is even more awkward, doesn't know how to start conversation and barely answers the questions daniel asks him.

'what music do you like?' 'i do not listen to a lot of music.'

'what do you do for fun?' 'i like to play fifa.'

'what do you do for a job?' 'i am a car mechanic.'

and daniel is sinking lower and lower into his chair like, fuck, what have i done, i've got to spend the next few weeks with a guy who clearly doesnt have any social skills. meanwhile, max is like, wow, daniel wants to know so much about me:) he is a good listener:) he is doing all the talking because he can tell this is hard for me:) or something lol. doesnt realise hes being rude, he just- he cant do this with the camera in his face, okay?

then in the bedroom, on their wedding night max realises that maye its not been going as well as he thought because he tries to kiss daniel, but daniel just laughs, stepping away gently and saying, 'guess ill take the couch right?' because he thinks that. well max is really young? what if hes just in this for the fame, the quick money, what if hes doing this now because he feels he has to? daniel doesnt want it to be like that, okay. its not what hes here for. but to max, he's like. oh:(. he'd thought- but of course daniel doesnt want to sleep in the bed with him, because look at him and look at daniel.

then i think the misscommunication continues for a bit of their honeymoon. they both think the other doesnt like each other, and max says even less now because if daniel doesnt want to even kiss him, then what is the point trying to be husbands? so they avoid each other a little, until daniel eventually thinks, fuck it, i gotta *try*, because he cant have max say leave and go home in the first week okay? his friends (michael) bullied him so badly for doing this, so it has to be worth it.

so he sneaks max out to some romantic beach picnic without the cameras (btw theyre in the caribbean or something idk), gets them both tipsy and he asks, 'why did you even come on the show?' and because the cameras arent here, max can be honest and say, 'my sister, she has two babies. and i tried to find somebody who would want this also, but with me. but always, men wanted sex and then when instead i tried to go for breakfast the next day, they would just laugh and leave. maybe it is because i am bad at it, but i did not do it at all for a long time, because my dad-'

and then max breaks off, and daniel tugs him into his arms and is like, 'its okay max. somebody to build a life with, thats what i wanted too.' then he kisses max, and it's not like on the wedding day, a peck in front of their parents, it's deep and there's tongue and max can't help but push for more and more, to push daniel back into the sand and grind against him until daniel is like, 'why dont i be the judge of how bad you really are?' and then they have like, mindblowing sex over and over, for the rest of the honeymoon.

and im not saying the sex like, fixes everything, but i think max feeling wanted sexually by daniel soothes a lot of the insecurities inside him that were making it hard for him to open up to him in other ways? like the next morning in bed he's a little shy when daniel cracks a load of jokes about how very much not bad in bed he is, but he’s also laughing and laughing, and when daniel starts a conversation over breakfast, suddenly max is chatting his ear off. and he is still is a little awkward infront of the cameras, but in private, they start to build something real. he can banter back with daniel now, give as good as he gets, even if the jokes are dorky and not funny to anyone else. to daniel they're cute and because he knows what max was like before, he can see how hard max is trying.

and daniel doesnt know when it happens, but one day everythinggg max does just becomes endearing. all of max's little quirks, his bluntness, his black and white thinking, daniel realises this is max and he really really likes max. max isnt pumping his tires because he wants something from daniel, he genuinely thinks daniel is hilarious and sexy and kind. and because daniel knows this, he feels he can be *real* with max, in a way hes never been before? like, max likes daniel the showman, but he also just likes daniel.

i genuinely think its like, a whirlwind romance after that. they tell each other they love each other before they even come back from the honeymoon, the viewers at home are rolling their eyes declaring it will never last.

but it does :) after the initial struggle, they become the low maintenance couple that just vibe the whole time lol. daniel waffle's about how much they get on with each other at each comittment ceremony, while max is like, 'yes things are good:)' and dies inside the time the intimacy expert asks if theyve had sex or not, and how was it. daniel just winks and says no complaints, but refuses to give anymore away bc thats private and he knows max doesnt want it out there.

the only time they get into any drama is when daniel sticks up for max, declaring his love publically to the group for the first time, when one of the girls is being mean and saying that max has the personality of a cabbage and she doesnt understand what daniel sees in him. or when max (bc he’s defo the one to get put with the girls even though it should be daniel) gets a little outwardly jealous when all the girls answer 'daniel' when asked who they think the hottest husband is at those awkward group days (shoutout to the episode that aired just haha) but inside he’s preening, like, hell yeah, thats my man.

then when it ends, they post an update on insta like, yeah we are still together, here are our two cats & also we got married for real:)

the end lol

[hers1ut]

Professor Romanoff chapter 1

Meeting The Hot Redhead

-Warnings: SMUT

-Translations: котенок - Kitten

малышка - Babygirl

-Word count: 1604

Nobody's POV:

It was the last day of summer and you were still unpacking a few boxes for your new apartment in NYC. The first time you walked into that apartment you were shocked and in awe because of the view from your window.

Time passed by pretty quick and you were getting bored of sitting around so you thought it would be a good idea to head out and go to a near by bar maybe make some new friends since New York was your new home after all and you didn't want to be a loner. Although you had to get up early in the morning for classes.

Y/N's POV:

"Hmm okay what should I wear"

You tried your hardest to find something cute but because you couldn't bring a lot of stuff with you since you had a lot of clothes back home and you thought you might go back and visit on weekends well try. you were tossing all your clothes out of your closet just trying to find something nice.

"OMG YESS THIS. THIS IS PERFECT"

(You wore this, sorry if you don't like it)

"Hmm ok wait, is this too dressy for a bar" you thought to yourself

You couldn't find anything else so you just stuck to the red dress it was cute anyway. As you were about to grab your purse and shoes your phone lit up. It was a text from your dad

Dad:

Hiya sweetheart, just checking in making sure you are okay.

You:

Aww hi dad yes I'm okay. I'm just heading out actually.

Dad:

Oh really where you going?

You:

Just to a little small bar down the road.

To maybe try meet some people that go to the college and make friends so I'm not so alone there

Dad:

Aww good well be safe please okay it's late

You:

I will dad I promise x

Dad:

Okay good well it's time for me to head to sleep. Goodnight sweetheart I love you xxx

You:

Goodnight dad I love you too xxx

Walking down the stairs and out of your building you were searching for Nearby Bar/Club's since you didn't actually know where the bar was.

"Oo okay I found it. It looks nice i guess but I'm definitely too dressed up for this but oh well" you thought to yourself

Time passes by and you are now sitting at the bar drinking some vodka you were part russian so it went down pretty easily and wasn't as strong tasting either. Nobody caught your eye until you saw a beautiful redhead with bright green emerald eyes she was wearing black skinny jeans, black top that hugged her curves perfectly and a black leather jacket. You were practically drooling over her and didn't realise that she started staring at you.

And then she came over and sat on the empty stool next to you.

Nat's POV:

"Hey котенок I saw you looking at me and I thought I should introduce myself"

"I'm Natasha but everyone calls me Nat"

Y/N's POV:

"Uh h-hi I'm y/n nice to meet you Nat.."

She was so beautiful you couldn't even get your words out properly

Nat's POV:

"Aww what's wrong, you nervous around me" she laughs

Y/N's POV:

"Did she just say I'm nervous around her. I- we have only just met and she's the one flirting with me so obviously IM FUCKING NERVOUS. she is pretty hot though like oh my god, but COME ON Y/N GET IT TOGETHER"  you thought to yourself

"What no- no I'm not nervous" you laugh off

"you're just really ho- I mean pretty"

Nat's POV:

"You think I'm pretty"

Y/N's POV:

"Yeah.."

She smile smirks at you so you smile back at her but god that smirk she did made you worse

Nat's POV:

"you know. The drink you are drinking is a strong alcohol"

Y/N's POV:

"Yeah yeah I know but I'm fine"

"just like how you are so god damn fine miss natasha" you whisper under your breath but you know she heard you

Time has passed by and suddenly you feel a hand on your thigh as Nat whispers into your ear

Nat's POV:

"котенок how about I go walk into that bathroom over there and in 5 minutes you walk in and we have a bit of fun"

you could see the smirk on her lips as you bit your own

Y/N's POV:

You couldn't really say anything as you were scared of what would come out of your mouth so you just nodded

5 minutes had passed and you were getting really nervous

As you walked into the bathroom Nat pinned you up to the door and put a strand of your hair behind your ear while locking the door so nobody could disturb your "fun"

Nat's POV:

"You really think I didn't hear you малышка 'just like how you are so god damn fine miss natasha' you should've just said it"

Y/N's POV:

"I- I just I didn't know how to say that but it's true"

After hearing that Nat crashed her lips into yours. It was slow at first but then turned into a hot make out.

You both pull away for a breather

Nat's POV:

"Fuck"

Y/N's POV:

"Me"

Nat's POV:

"As you wish котенок"

Suddenly Nat reaches back into kissing you. you both make out as Nat lifts your leg up. Slowly she starts to kiss down to your neck you try your hardest to not make any noises but Natasha wasn't having it

Nat's POV:

"Hey don't hold them back I wanna hear them pretty noises you make"

Y/N's POV:

"B-but I don't want people hearing us"

Nat's POV:

"No buts котенок"

Nat goes back to kissing your neck hoping you don't hold back and she got what she wanted

Y/N's POV:

"Mmm Nat more please" you moan out

Nat's POV:

"Patients don't worry I'll give you what you want"

Nat goes back to your lips slipping her tongue inside and fighting for dominance which she obviously won while her hand was sliding down to your thigh. She finally reaches the hem of your panties slipping her hand in without you even realising as she starts to draw small circles over your clit waiting for a response out of you. Suddenly you become a moaning mess as she slipped her fingers inside of you.

Nat's POV:

"Mm you're already so wet for me котенок"

You could feel your high approaching so you bit your lip to muffle your moans since you were scared of everyone outside hearing. But Nat didn't like that She wanted to hear you scream her name

Nat's POV:

"No no, no holding back them pretty noises"

Y/N's POV:

"But Natty I don't want people hearing"

Nat's POV:

"I wanna hear you scream my name. I want them to know who you belong to"

Your high approached and you could feel your juices dripping down your leg, Nat carried out your high and then pulled her fingers out of you with a pop bringing her fingers up to her mouth and licking off all your juices. Then kissing you so you can taste yourself

Nat's POV:

"Mmm god you taste so good" she said with a smirk on her face

You couldn't say anything because you were too flustered with her still standing Infront of you.

As you were about to walk out Nat stops you and hands you a piece of paper with her number on it and something written

The note:

Here's my number котенок

I hope this isn't the last time I'll see you ;)

You immediately blush reading the note and tried to hide that from her before leaving she gives you a quick peck on your lips and says goodnight

You arrive back at your apartment and still couldn't comprehend what had happened at the bar: Seeing her, her flirting, the sex, the note. It was all so much and you could still picture everything in your mind. You just wanted that to happen again and again

The next morning

You woke up to your alarm and you didn't even know when you fell asleep all you remember was walking into the apartment door. You thought everything was just a dream.

Then you remembered everything: Seeing Nat, her flirting, the sex, the note she gave you. you didn't even add her number yet into your contacts so you did after you woke yourself up more. You put her under Hot Redhead ;)  you thought maybe it would be a good idea to text her so you did.

You:

Hey Nat it's y/n :)

Hot Redhead ;):

Hey котенок last night was fun maybe we should do that again ;)

You didn't answer her as you looked at your clock it read 10:30 am

"shit I'm late on my first day"

"Well what a good way to make a great impression. This will be fun"

[legendarywolf2022]

Chapter 9: The Wolf and the Fox Are Not So Different

(Everything seemed to calm down after the hiccups between Wolf and Diane as the spark seemed to fly a bit as they began to talk with the others.)

⏰ 9th of July 2022, 02:45pm ⏰

🌎 The Bad Guys’ Hideout, Los Angeles 🌎

After the couple of minutes later, everything had been talked about what really happened few hours ago before the news came along while they were able eating their lunches.

“I see,” Diane said as she drink her tea. “But you girls should never do something about running away from your home or your school trips. Have you ever wondered what your parents would say if they find out on the news?”

The Panda Squad haven’t thought about that, and now they were really in big trouble.

“I know that,” Meilin asked. “We we just wanted to show them that…”

“Mei,” Snake spoke. “Proving that you girls are ‘grownups’ has to be a reason, and that you should get to University, get to college degree, get a job, find a flat, and make sure you’re controlling your money.” Even the Bad Guys agreed.

“Well,” Meilin said. “Yes, but we’re impatient to get the opportunity. I thought that we could just so that we are more than just kids by doing what any adults can do.”

“Snake,” Shark spoke up. “Maybe they were just doing like Home Alone 1 and Home Alone 2 movies in the Panda Squad style.”

“Which it’s not for other kids to do that,” Snake snapped. “And plus, stealing your parents’ half of money and half of your school trips’ money is uncool.”

“Hang on,” Miriam said. “You guys used to be kids and you might have stole money from everyone.”

“Yeah,” Snake pointed out. “But with you girls doing criminal stuff, you’re too cute to my taste. And I can easily taste air for the example.”

Miriam make the ‘wait what’ look on her face. “Air?” She asked.

“Yup,” Snake nodded. “Air.” He then flickered his tongue and sighed, “Hmmm. Bubblegum of strawberry and watermelon I can taste air between you.”

Miriam still wasn’t sure, “Okay… but snakes can taste air is kinda odd..?”

“I think it’s kinda cool,” Priya said.

“But, sorry to interrupt, but did Mr Wolf said that the governor was once a thief herself?” Abby asked, kinda wanted to change the subject. “Sorry, I’m kinda bit curious and confused.”

Diane and Wolf looked at each other…

“It’s okay,” Catalina said as she noticed Wolf’s face was getting worried. “I know she’s the Crimson Paw.”

The Bad Guys, the Panda Squad and Diane looked at her in shock.

“Wait, what?” Diane asked, “How…?”

“The Crimson Paw would be an animal that got many skills as a fox and the ways the female move as well as the crimson colour of your fur,” Catalina explained. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Who’s Crimson Paw?” Miriam asked.

“It’s a long story, Miriam.” Tarantula said.

Diane thought of, if it was a good time, to tell them about her criminal story. After a moment passed, she cleared her throat before explaining. “When I was just a kid, I was perfect to my family. I was smart, pretty and loyal to the family.” She said while the others listening to her story. “But all that change when someone had burgled our home as they were hunting something for them to take from us, they stole everything except my mom’s box that was hidden under the bed. Since then I became some sort of a troubled teenager when I started to steal sweets, drinks and money when my dad passed away. It became more of a struggle for my mom. So when I got older I went to college then to University. When it comes to summer holidays, I would come to my mom’s and looked after her. But at the same time, I still kept on stealing and I realised what my talent was. I became a thief after I graduated, but no one especially my now-short family doesn’t know about it.”

The others were surprised that Diane’s life from the past wasn’t perfect than they thought it was. Diane was actually telling her story about how she became a thief while trying to stay loyal to her family.

“I know it wasn’t easy to keep my secret from my mother, as well as leaving everything behind.” Diane sighed, “I was the best thief in the world that I even had no idea I was this good after everything I needed to know about how to be the best criminal ever. Fast, fearless and inventive. I stole everything I could think of, and I just had one thing left to steal…”

“The Golden Dolphin.” Snake, Shark, Tarantula and Piranha. Wolf nodded, he knew because Diane told him last year.

“You went after that dolphin?” Meilin asked.

“I didn’t just went after it,” Diane said. “I had it. And it was a clear escape route.” She thought back to that night, how she’d had everything she thought she’d ever wanted in the palm of her hand… but… the guilt had somehow sink in. The worry and regret, “All I saw in the end was the tricky fox they always told me I was. I also thought what would have happened if my family finds out about me and they would be disappointed with my life as a criminal. All the thoughts had changed everything. So, I dropped the dolphin and left.”

Everyone but Wolf and Catalina were shocked, this wasn’t the legendary story they thought they knew.

“So…” she went on, “Instead of hurting people, I’m helping them. I’m still me, I’m just me on the right side.”

“Have you ever missed being a criminal?” Catalina asked.

“Sometimes,” Diane replied. “And maybe everyday.”

“Have you hurt someone?” Meilin asked. Diane paused as her ears went down, “Sorry if I ask you something like that,” Meilin said as she regretted it.

Diane smiled, “Don’t be. I did almost got that person to nearly fall from the tall building but I managed to save that person who turned out to be my cousin.”

“Does they know about it was you as the Crimson Paw?” Miriam asked.

“No,” Diane replied. “I actually thought that I was alone after my heist when I realised my cousin who’s a police officer was followed me, but that story would be another time because I need to get home for Mr Whiskers who is looking after Sophie McDonald.”

“Wait,” Catalina said. “Are those the tiny little crystals that actually part of the Zumpango Diamond for you to make them as your necklace and bracelet?”

Diane looked at her in shock, “How do you know?”

“My dad and his friend were once thieves and they knew all kind of the jewels, diamonds, gemstones, all kind of expensive stuff that live on from the olden days. So, I kinda researched more history about the greatest thieves of all time who stole stuff that was very interesting.” Catalina explained.

“You are very creative,” Wolf smiled. He had no idea that Diane’s necklace and bracelet can also be part of her Zumpango heist then just her ring.

Catalina sighed before looking up at Diane who was staring at her in shock… and something else? “Look, I understand that you’ve been there before you’ve made a choice to no longer be a thief, you’ve made a choice to become the governor of Los Angeles. But… but it wasn’t your choice to control everyone so they won’t make the same mistake you’ve done. Mr Wolf made a choice to choose a better because of you who somehow knows what he’s going through. A wolf and a fox aren’t so different because they have a same personality but depends on what they have that each other don’t know about.” Catalina then asked. “I mean, you two are a couple, right?”

Both Diane and Wolf looked at each other before their faces were revealing blushes. Snake and the other Bad Guys were smirking at that point while the other Panda Squad smiled as they tried to not giggle.

“Well,” Wolf breaking the awkward silence. “We’re just… friends?”

Catalina give Wolf a ‘oh really’ look on her face, then give Diane a ‘let’s see shall we’ look on her face. “Really? I thought the ship should be sailed by now.” She replied which caused Wolf to chuckled a bit.

And with that, Diane got up from the couch and head to the elevator followed by Wolf. “I’ll be back,” he told the others.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

After a long walk down the stairs, Wolf spoke up. “Man, what a day. I mean, it’s still young at day.”

Diane smiled sadly, “Yeah… Tell me about it.”

Despite feeling comfortable to each other, there was still unresolved issue. Not wanting to get things arkward again they finally spoke. “Listen I…” they both paused before spoke again, you go first. No, you go...” Both of them sighed, then spoke again. “On 3. 1, 2, 3…”

“I'm sorry for lashing out on you!” Wolf said.

“I'm sorry for jumping at conclusion!” Diane said.

Wolf and Diane looked at each other in confusion, “Huh?”

Before Diane could say a word, Wolf raised his hand to stop her, then pointed his finger at each other while speaking. “No wait, stop. Look as cute as this is, but let me talk first.” He took a deep breath to compose himself and then looked at her with eyes full of regret. “I'm sorry for yelling and... scaring you.”

Diane looked at him and spoke, “It’s okay…”

Wolf shook his head, “No, it's not okay. You didn't deserve that. You helped us so many times, when we struggled to become good guys even after we got released. And what did I do in return? Instead of gratitude, I lashed all of that anger at you like some viscious animal. And I scared you. I...I…”

Diane took his hand onto hers. “Wolf, it's okay. Yes I was scared, but I'm fine. Really.” Wolf didn't convinced. “And besides you were right. I am a hypocrite.”

“What?” Wolf asked, “I never said that.”

Diane looked away, “But you pointed that out during argument and honestly I can see it. Instead of listening and understanding your situation, I kept arguing and try to justify myself. I should be the one who apologised for not giving you a chance or believing you that you and the others changed. I guess that proves I still need to learn about friendship.” She turned her head towards him only seeing a confused look on his face. She sighed as she said, "Truth is.... I'm not good in socializing. Aside from you, I don't have any friends."

Wolf look at her, stupified as if she was an alien. “You're kidding.” Wolf said, “You kidding right?” But the look on Diane's face was proof enough, that she was serious. Though Wolf found it hard to believe. “I mean, Come on! You have got to be pulling my tail. When we first met, you talked with those guests and delegates at ease and you are always friendly towards everyone in public. You want me to believe that you have no social skills?”

“There is difference between socializing and social skills,” Diane explained. “Which in my case, you mentioned that acting is profesional. Always smile and wave, pretending while others do the same. But it's not like I'm not myself. I'm still me only on the right side, just this "same new me" is just as a loner as the old me. None of those people are my real friends.”

“What about Luggins?” Wolf asked, then Diane gave him a "really" question look on her face with a raised eyebrow. “Not that I'm big fan of her, but I thought guys get along.”

Diane sighed, “Our relationship is only professional, since she's technically my subordinate. Though, I think she's aware after spending too much with you.”

“What about your family before you left for college, then you graduate from University and became a thief?” Wolf asked, Diane didn’t say anything which made Wolf regret it for asking that question. “I'm sorry…”

“It's okay.” Diane said, “I still had my mother as well as my uncle and my cousin.”

Wolf was little nervous since this a touchy subject. But despite knowing she doesn't tell, he asked. “What happened to your father?”

Diane wanted to say, that she doesn't want to talk about what happened to her father and the rest of her family. But… but after everything that happened, she decided tell him a bit more about her, much to Wolf's surprise. “Me and my entire family used to live in a place where humans hunt sometimes foxes. Just for fun. Because they think we're worthless dirty creatures who don't deserve to live, and also we are predators that we would hunt chickens and rabbits. My father thought he would stopped the madness but was viciously attacked by dogs and he passed away few hours later. A week later, my grandparents and cousins were killed while trying to avenged my father one by one while me, my mother, my uncle and my cousin managed to escape.” She said in a small venom in her voice, then her anger turned into a sadness as she continued. “While I was in the new world around me with my mother, I felt like I lost everything. My father was everything to me because he was there for me, no matter what. And at age 9, it was harder for me to come a terms of my father’s death.” She then pulled away from Wolf and turned away before gazing at the sky as her ears went down. “Then one day after I stole few sweets and money, I decided… if the world was only gonna see me as dirty thief, then I'm gonna be one. After graduate, I became the Crimson Paw. For the longest time I was angry at the world, didn't trust anyone and giving them what they wanted as their punishment which is not death than just my cousin who is a police officer now. But that changed after I tried to steal the Golden Dolphin.” She then turned to Wolf, “And you know the rest.”

However, Wolf thought there was more, that she was actually letting out. He still remembers those words: ‘Instead of hurting people, I'm helping them.’ He then asked, “Was there anything else that made you turn good?”

“Well, there was something else.” Diane said, then she paused. “But it doesn't matter. I still screw things up, even as a governor. Because of my lack of better judgement, I trusted wrong person and you guys paid the price.”

“Hey, it wasn't your fault.” Wolf said, “He fooled us all.”

Diane shook her head, “But you suffered, because of me.” Her voice then sounded like she was about to cry. “And now I did it again. The reason why it was easier for me to give up of that old life, was because I had nothing left to lose.” She then took off her glasses off. “Until now. You are the only friend I have. After getting call from Officer Bob of your whereabouts, I guess I got scared that I might lose you. That's not an excuse for what I did though, I should know that you had good reason for what you were doing. But instead, I jump into conclusion like Luggins. Some friend I turn out to be.”

Wolf felt like that his heart was hurting just to see how upset she was in the inside. He walked up to her before taking her hand onto his, “Hey… stop it.” Wolf said which makes Diane looked at him. “Stop blaming yourself for everything. Look, no one's perfect and everybody makes mistakes. I also made mistakes and if my friends could forgive me back then, who says I can't forgive you too?”

Diane looked at surprised. “You still considering me as a friend? Even after...”

Wolf nodded. “Yes, we're still friends. You didn't give up on me or others, so we are not giving up on you. You are stuck with us governor, whenever you want to or not.” He said with cheeky smile and Diane couldn't be more grateful for that.

Without realizing she hugged him, “Thank you…” she mumbled.

Wolf was stunned, as he could feel his cheeks and ears are getting warmer. It felt... nice. He smiled a bit, but froze as felt his tail slowly but surely wag. To avoid futher embarassment he gently pulled away from her with nervous laugh, not noticing vixen's blush as well.

"You're welcome," he said trying to change the subject. Then he remembered something. "Also I think you shouldn't be worried about girls knowing your secret identity now that you told them. I mean they're pretty comfortable with us, I'm sure they wouldn’t tell others about you as the Crimson Paw.”

“I just don't know why I told them…” Diane mumbled.

Wolf smiled, “Because you knew they would figure it out sooner or later. Catalina somehow was the first to figure out quickly than her other friends. Besides some of them will soon call you a descendant of Robin Hood.”

Diane stopped talking after hearing of what Wolf just said. Then burst out of laughter by the absudity. “Robin Hood is an urban legend, he's not real. And even if he was real, wasn't he a human by the way?”

Wolf thought before replied, “That's what I said. Not the urban legend thing, but the human thing. And you know what Catalina said? She said that there is rumor of Robin Hood who was actually being a fox while some people also say that his ancestor was none other than Reynard the Fox.”

Diane couldn't stop laughing and Wolf joined as well. It was hilarious, but also sweet. “That girl Catalina, is special, isn't she?”

Wolf nodded. “Yeah, well... she is definitely unordinary.”

Diane smiled. “Though I didn't imagine you as father.”

Wolf eyes widened as Diane said the word ‘father’. “Say what now?” He asked.

“You and Catalina.” Diane explained. “You're unusual kind of father-daughter duo.”

Wolf chuckled nervously. “Wha-? No, it's not like that.”

Diane raised her eyebrow. “Really? Then how do you explain what you did for her back there?”

Wolf replied nervously. “I was, uh, just trying to make sure she's okay, like any person who sees a sad child. It was an instinct.”

“That is the actual definition of parent comforting their own child.” Diane pointed out.

“Diane, don't be ridiculous.” Wolf said. “I mean me, a father?”

“But I can tell that you are very fond of her.” Diane replied.

Wolf wanted denied, but then he stopped himself as he was realising that she has a good point. “Heh, I guess I am.” He sighed. “I mean, can you blame me? I never expected someone except you would stood up for me. A human girl, no less. And here she is, roasting chief only to protect me without second thoughts... without fear. It felt.... I don't even know. But I know it was definitely a good feeling.” He then looked at the sky as he continued talking. It makes me wonder, if things would turned out differently, if she was there that night year ago. Maybe we wouldn't end in jail, maybe we would stop Marmalade's plan sooner and.... maybe I wouldn't lost contol over my anger.” He said the last line in regret as his ears get droopy.

Diane placed her hand on Wolf’s arm. “Wolf, are you okay?”

Wolf looked at Diane and replied. “Sorry, today was a kind of emotional rollercoaster for me. The girls, the car chase, the chief, you, that nightmare…”

“Wait,” Diane interrupted. “What nightmare?”

Wolf looked at her and sighed before telling her what happened.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

The other Bad Guys and the Panda Squad were having a great time as they getting to know each other while Catalina writing something on her notebook since she and Meilin got in common with writing stuff on notebooks.

Tarantula chuckled, “You know what? This girl is the best.” She was talking about Abby when she told them that she was the dodgeball player and she almost outsmarted the boys who tried to mess with her and the other girls.

“Oh, yeah?” Snake asked and Tarantula nodded. “Well, then. I think I should give you, Abby, a Push Pop since you behaved yourself after that killer moment you put me through. And this is for real, since I kinda messed with the wrong person.” He then pulled a cherry flavoured Push Pop behind Abby's ear like magician. “Here you go.”

“Oooohhhhh!” Meilin, Miriam, Shark, Piranha and Tarantula said.

“You sure you’re serious?” Abby asked, wasn’t sure he was playing those prank again.

“Oh come on,” Snake said rolling his eyes. “I may not be a goody-shoes like you all, but I'm that not heartless. And besides, it's not the first time I get beaten over a push-pop.” He then looked at Shark who was smirking and chuckled.

Abby looked up at Shark, “Don’t worry.” Shark said while patting Abby’s hair. “Snake has been through a worse. But I must say, I'm impressed. You're a great fighter.” Abby smiled at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Snake rolled his eyes. “Here, just take it. You pretty much deserved it.”

Abby smiled at the Push Pop before taking it from Snake. “Thank you, Mr Snake.”

Shark then burst out laughing. “Dude, you really got beaten by a child. That has to be the second embarrassing and hilarious moment ever for you now.”

Snake growled while rolling his eyes. “Please, just quit it.”

Catalina looked up with confusion, “What was the first?”

Tarantula chuckled, “You really don’t want to know.”

Shark then pulled out a camera and was about to head to elevator door.

“Mr Shark,” Miriam said. “Where are you going?”

Shark smirked, “Just going to check what Wolf and Diane are up.”

“With a camera?” Miriam asked.

“You never know what they are up,” Shark replied with a wink.

“Hmm,” Priya hummed. “That’s I wanna see.”

“Me too, me too!” Abby said, “Come on!”

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

“Wolf, I had no idea.” Diane said after Wolf finished his story about his nightmare that he had last night.

Wolf sighed, “It doesn't matter. And probably wouldn't matter even back then. It doesn't change the fact that I lost control and almost hurt someone. I don't know what is happening to me or why, and it scares me.” Wolf looked at his reflection on the window as he spoke. “What if Chief is right? What if I am threat?”

Diane grabbed his face to made him look at he, “Diane?” He asked.

“Wolf,” Diane spoke. “Look at me and listen carefully. You are not a threat, and don't you dare even think you are, just because of you’re a species. Luggins is nothing but Mother Goose Blowhard to even has audacity says such thing.” Normally, Diane wouldn't trash-talk like that about people she's working with, but there are certain limits, that no one should cross with her. And the police chief wasn't an exception. “And don't forget, you are not alone. You have us, your friends by your side and we will figure this out together. Like you said to me, 'You are stuck with us, whenever you want to or not'.”

“Heh, touché.” Wolf said, not knowing that their tails were wagging a bit too close to each other until they hooked, looking almost like holding hands.

Both of them looked at their tails before staring at each other, realising how close they were as their noses were touching one another as the tails were still hooked which was causing them to even embrace their own. It reminded Wolf the only good thing from the night year ago; When he danced with Diane and how they got closer both physically and personal, this was similiar yet different. Even Diane felt it too. It was much deeper, more genuine.

CLICK! SNAP!

And the moment was gone as Wolf and Diane saw Shark taking picture of them with others smirking at the duo, while Panda Squad were gushing how cute they are.

Wolf and Diane pulled away from each other while blushing, “It's not like that!” They both said it at the same time, “We're just friends, not a couple!”

“Oh, come on!” Abby said, “Let the ship sailed like Titanic movie but with a happy ending! You’re so super cute and so in love!” Even the girls agreed with her.

“That’s what I’m going to say, chica!” Piranha replied while the others except Wolf and Diane laughed joyfully.

“You guys!” Wolf said, rolling his in annoyance. “You’re really not helping!”

Diane chuckled a bit before she replying, “I really should be off. Sophie really don’t want to stay a bit longer while looking after Mr Whiskers.” She then went to the car while the others waved at her but before she was about to start her engine, she rolled down her side window. She looked at Catalina before to Wolf. “You don’t mind you and Catalina come to my placed just to discuss about your job, do you?”

Wolf and Catalina looked at each other before Wolf looked at Diane smiled, “Sure. And I’m sorry that I didn’t come to the meeting…”

“Hey,” Diane smiled. “It doesn’t matter now, the important thing is that you and the others are safe.”

“Thanks for checking on us, Miss Foxington.” Catalina said.

Diane smiled, “It’s no problem.” Then she drove off, leaving the Bad Guys and the Panda Squad with the smiles on their faces.

But Wolf’s smile faded as he was feeling unsure about what Diane said; ‘You are not a threat, and don't you dare even think you are…’

He still felt like he was a threat…

(I think I should give everyone a little spoiler for next chapter, shall I?

Next chapter: Wolf having doubts about what happened today while the others were doing their own business, but Catalina seemed to notice is wrong with Wolf.

Any thoughts on the chapters so far?)

[aidansloth]

this is my first time posting on Tumblr so constructive criticism/tips are appreciated <3

disclaimer, English is not my first language sorry if there are any mistakes

Gareth Emerson Headcanons (General):

he has ADHD

probably undiagnosed, but he researched about it and talked to his mom, she was really supportive but they don't have the money to get him diagnosed, so she does the best she can to understand him and do her own research

he also has 2 younger sisters (I think their ages would be around 7 and 11? A lot younger though) which 'force' (he enjoys it) him to play dress-up and have tea parties with them and their plushes

this would include Gareth's old plushies too (cute bats and a raccoon)

he loves his sisters so much ok-

on that note, he's a feminist 100%, as in he corrects other people on misogynistic behaviour and calls out other guys too

and also anti-racist

I'm so in love with him I can't-

he's also protective of his mom, since I headcanon that his dad was abusive, but they left once things got really bad and that's when they moved to Hawkins

this happened when he was like 11, he arrived during the school year and didn't talk to other people unless he had to

his mother was really worried about him, and that's when Eddie saw the cool introverted kid that liked D&D and decided he was going to be friends with him

they realised they both liked the same stuff and in no time Jeff and Kevin (the other guy with no name) tagged along

Gareth's mom loves his friends since they got him out of his shell

moving on, he's sarcastic like 99% of the time

Jeff loves to watch other people not understanding his sarcasm

because of his ADHD he often forgets to eat so his mom or sisters have to remind him

he also forgets to bring lunch a lot of the time so the Hellfire club learnt to always bring some extra food for him

Eddie and Gareth bond over being neurodivergent ('cause Eddie's autistic)

he stims and fidgets all the time, mostly by drumming his fingers on any surface available, but also bouncing his leg or tapping his foot

often his hyperfixations are new bands/singers, but also likes to learn about animals so he will just talk about hours about whatever animal he has his mind on

somehow always misplaces his drumsticks and has to buy new ones everytime (then he finds them under the sofa 7 months later)

either that or he breaks the drumsticks out of anger (that's very cishet man of him)

yes he has anger issues and drumming is his outlet

he also has anxiety and sometimes pulls all nighters just to perfection something he's making (like a patch, D&D figurines he's painting or a drawing)

yes I decided he likes sketching, but he doesn't think he's very good so he barely shows his art to other people

he often draws landscapes from Eddie's campaigns but also his D&D characters

I read someone else's headcanon on this, so don't credit me (don't remember who said it sorry), but because he stays up late he uses that time to study and catch up on homework otherwise he wouldn't do it

he just finds it easier to concentrate at night when everything is calm

all his pins are gifts from his friends or his mom

he made his cut-off flannel by himself one night he was bored and ended up loving it

he likes red but it's no his favourite colour, it's green

he's either bisexual or pansexual and identifies as demiboy (I don't care if it's the 80s, he does)

he knows how to cook basic things, just for when his mom has to work late and he has to make dinner for sisters

they love his cooking

doesn't really believe people when they compliment him, given he has been bullied most of his life for his hobbies and who he is, but doesn't correct people

if they compliment him he just thanks them because he doesn't want to put up a fight

one thing that he's very confident about is his skills on the drums (and his style obviously)

he feels like the dad/mom friend

he also has plants and has named all of them (they all have names of his favourite drummers and musicians)

would absolutely burst out crying if one of them were to die

also collects crystals or just pretty rocks

he loves tiger's eye (I don't remember if that's the exact name sorry)

this is pretty much what everybody said but loves Dr. Pepper

he would also love Monster, especially the Pacific Punch one (I am not projecting ok-)

had to share a room with his 12 year-old sister when they were little but once they moved he got his own and has never been happier

his room is covered in empty cans, vinyls and mixtapes

always forgets to throw away those empty cans and other rubbish

he tries okay

but other than that, it's all very clean and tidy

he tries to clean it every week but the rubbish always seems to pile up

his walls are covered in band posters and some drawings his sisters made of/for him

of course his plants on the balcony, and has a special hanger for his cut-off flannel

honorary mention to this man's thighs please

and his tummy

I love him.

he would be insicure about it though, cause you know, society

would rather die than use a 3 in 1 bodywash

and I respect that

he's always cold- I mean, he's wearing 3 layers in SPRING

so yeah his favourite season is winter, he loves curling up on the sofa with a soft blanket and a cup of hot chocolate

is scared of cockroaches, actually any bug

and the dark (he has a cute nightlight that he's had since he was a kid)

you know the scene when Eddie jumps on the table and everyone but Gareth is looking at him? he really said "here we go again", he literally looks so tired

he's just dealing with his theatrics on a daily basis

tired dad friend

he's really into astrology

he'll go "that's very Capricorn of you" at people

he once said something along those lines to Eddie

they didn't speak to each other for a week

loves bubble baths with scented candles and shit

on that note, he has a lot of scented candles for when Eddie comes to hang out so his sisters don't smell cigarette smoke (or weed-)

he would smell of his mom's freshly baked cinnamon cookies and coconut shampoo

because his little sisters get hurt very easily he's very good at patching people up

also has experience with periods because his mom taught him like the queen she is, also his sister already started hers so he often makes her tea and warms up her heating pad

he's either a Leo or a Cancer I don't make the rules

I'm sure I have others but I can't think of them right now (if there's enough I'll make a part 2)

<33

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[outsideratheart]

When in New York (Kelley O’ Hara x reader)

Part 2

You had just finished post game media following your game against New York Liberty. You weren’t a huge fan of doing media but it made it easier considering Seattle had won. 

You leave the conference room with Stewie who you had been doing the interview with.

“You seeing your family tonight” You shake your head.

“What about you?” She nods hers.

She bumps her shoulder into yours “Two New Yorkers beat New York in New York. Sounds like something to celebrate to me” She says and maybe she had a point.

You both walk into the locker room, some players have already left and some were still packing up.

“Y/N? Megan texted saying that her and a couple other teammates are at your parents restaurant and asked if we wanted to meet up with them” Sue asks.

Very few people knew about the family restaurant, you wanted to keep it a secret so that it could stay authentic. Your family was Italian and the restaurant was like a little piece of Italy in New York. The only people that knew where your Storm teammates and Megan, the honorary team mom.

You look at sue and she is giving you the look. After signing for the team she had taken you under her wing meaning that the two of you had got quite close.

“Ok, ok. No need to give me that look” You says.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes you leave the area, luckily for you the restaurant is only a few blocks away so you and Sue opted to walk saying that I would be your cool down / recovery.

“You said teammates” you says putting air-quotes around the word teammates “who’s there?” You ask.

“Alex and Kelley” she says which instantly bring a smile to your face.

“I thought that would cheer you up”

“Shut up”

You had a crush on Kelley, both Sue and Megan knew it. You met her last year when to US were playing in Seattle and Megan had invited you to a game. There was something about the defender that you really liked. You wasn’t if it was the fact that on the pitch she is a beast and off she is teddy but always had fun when you were with her.

You both enter the restaurant being greeted by your mom as soon as you come through the door.

“Mrs L/N nice to see you again” Sue says.

“Sue I have told you before, you can call me Maria” You mom says as she hugs you and sue makes her way to your friends.

“buon gioco dolce ragazza” (good game sweet girl) she tells you.

“grazie mamma” you reply kissing her cheek.

Meanwhile sue heads towards to table of soccer players.

She waves at everyone getting a mixture of hi’s and hello’s 

“Hi babe” She says kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. 

“Hi” Megan replies. “Where Y/N?” She asks noticing that you wasn’t behind sue.

“She’s in here somewhere” Sue says. She knew that you would probably been saying hi to your dad in the kitchen but she couldn’t tell them that.

“See Kel, you have a few more moments to get your crush in check” Alex jokes with her friend.

“Shut up!” Kelley replies.

“Hi guys” you say as to approach the table.

You notice Kelley staring at you so you take the opportunity to tease her.

“Like what you see?” You say making the defender blush.

“Have you ordered food yet?” You ask.

“No we were waiting for you. We know we are having though” Alex tells you as she hands you a menu.

“Thanks but I don’t need it” You say handing the menu to Sue who shakes her head letting you know she doesn’t need it either.

“You already know what you’re having?” Kelley asks.

“Not exactly” Sue says which confuses the others.

Looking around the restaurant you catch the attention of one of the waiters.

You let him know you are ready to order. 

Each of the women tell him what they want and then it is your’s and sue’s turn.

You look at sue and she nods her head.

“dì a gianni che avremo quello che consiglia” (tell gianni we will have what he recommends) Sue says 

“Certo” The waiter says.

You look at Sue and smile in approval.

“You getting very good, maybe time for a trip” You say.

“You speak Italian?” Kelley asks Sue.

“Y/N does and she has been teaching me for the past couple of years”

“Who is Gianni?” Alex asks.

“He is the chef here” You explain.

You start talking about the storm game when you mom bring across a bottle of limoncello hand you the bottle and 5 shot glasses.

“Grazie” You say

You pour everyone a glass and hand them out. 

“You get table service here?” Kelley asks.

“No, I asked for it when I came in” You reply.

You raise you class and everyone copies.

“Here to us. We change the game and provide hope for the next generation of female athletes” You say and everyone takes a sip except Kelley who shots it.

“You sip it Kel. If not you’ll be on the floor an hour” Megan says.

“You would know” you tease causing you and the forward to laugh.

“I will pour you another but this here” you say pointing to the bottle “is the real stuff, not something you find in a liquor store. It comes straight from a vineyard in Italy where this restaurant makes it’s wine” 

“You know a lot about this restaurant, the chef’s name and now where it makes it’d alcohol” Alex questions.

“What can I say, I have been coming here since I was a baby” you explain.

“that’s one way to put it” sue says under her breath, no quiet enough though as you send her a glare.

You look at Kelley as she takes a sip.

“Tastes better doesn’t it” She nods her head.

Your food arrives and you all say how nice it looks and smells. 

“Oh.my.god” Kelley says between mouthfuls.

“I agree, this is incredible. Megan how did you find this place? Alex asks.

“Y/N” Megan replies and Alex nods remembering that you said you came here when I was younger.

Conversation is small and simple as you all focus on your food.

You thank the waiter telling him the the food was delicious as he clears the table.

“Y/N can I ask you a question” Kelley asks.

“Only if I can ask you one?” 

“Why Italian and are you fluent” She asks

“I’m Italian so I had to learn in order to talk to family in Sicily”

“Prove it. Tell me something in Italian?” 

“quando ci siamo conosciuti pensavo fossi la persona più bella del mondo”

“Sounds very romantic” Alex says.

“What does it mean?” Kelley asks.

“it means ‘when we met I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world’” You tell her making sure to look her in the eyes when you say it.

Kelley is at a loss for words, what is she suppose to say to that. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable” You say slowly regretting what you said, not that you didn’t mean because you did.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks” you says excusing yourself from the table.

“Kelley” Alex says trying to get her friends attention.

“Does she say that kind of thing to everyone?” Kelley asks sue.

She shakes her head “She isn’t that type of person Kelley”

“You should tell her how you feel” Megan suggests.

Kelley shakes her head “what if she doesn’t feel the same way”

“You honestly think that after hearing what she just said” Alex says not believing her friends blindness.

You walk back to the table with two bottles of red wine.

“Dessert wine anyone?” You say trying to avoid the awkwardness. “trust me, this will be the best you tasted”

“It’s what they make in Italy right?” Alex says, you nod pouring her a glass.

Out of all the woman at the table to knew that Alex was the one that drank wine. You wait eagerly to see If she likes it. 

“Nice right”

Alex nods her head.

You all sip on your wine talking about everything and anything, for a moment you forget that you are all major athletes and it just feels like a group of friends catching up.

Once you are done Alex gets the attention of the waiter for the bill but he tells them that it has been settled.

She looks around the table confused but notices that Megan and Sue and looking directly at you.

“Y/N” 

“What? We don’t do this very often. Let me treat my friends”

“Thank you” Alex and Kelley say at the same time.

You are just about to leave when your mom comes to the table.

“Did you all enjoy your meal?” She asks. 

“It was incredible, I cannot wait to come back” Kelley says.

“I agree, I will definitely come back whenever we are in New York” Alex says.

“I’ll see you two soon ok” she says putting an arm around Sue and Megan. She had met them numerous times when she came to Seattle but her comment stumped the other two.

“Of course, next time your in Seattle you have to show me how to make your lasagne, I always eat the ones you make Y/N” Megan looks at you when you realises what she said.

It looks like your secret was about to get two new keepers.

“Alex, Kelley” your mom says now directed her attention to the other two soccer players “Any friends of my daughters are always welcome here”

“Wait, your daughter?” Kelley says looking at you confused.

“Meet my mom Maria” you say.

“This makes more sense. It is why you know so much about this restaurant” Alex says.

You nod your head.

You all make sure your way our of the restaurant. You had learned that Megan, Alex and Kelley were all staying in the same hotel as you and sue so you walked back together. Sue, Megan and Alex walk ahead leaving you and Kelley alone.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier, it’s just that whenever I am near you I feel this connection and thought maybe you felt it too. I wouldn’t have said what I said if I didn't” you say

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, you caught me of guard. Nobody has every said something like that to me, definitely not in Italian” Kelley explains.

“I find that hard to believe, I mean look at you, you are beautiful” You say.

Kelley blushes again which you find adorable “ You were right before. I feel the connection too but I never did anything about it because we live so far away from each other”

“Can’t we just let ourself be happy even it it’s only a short period of time. We focus so much on the bigger picture that we don’t see what is right in front of us” You tell her.

“What do you have in mind?” She asks and you smile, you had wanted to do this for a quite a while.

“When do you leave New York?”

“Not until the day after tomorrow” 

“Perfect! Have breakfast with me?”

“I would love to” she replies.

Kelley stops walking “for the record, I find you very beautiful too”

You smile holding you hand out and she takes it.

You walk back to the hotel hand in hand, not talking just making the most of each others company whilst you can.

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Girls like you

THE POOL

JJ Maybank wasn't really sure why the Y/L/N family had hired him to clean out their pool when summer started. They seemed to like him around the hotel when they went for meals but he wasn't exactly qualified, he wasn't complaining though, they tip well and it couldn't be that hard.

His only problem was Y/N.

They never got on well. She was friends with Kie in her kook year, who even went as far as to dub her 'the only kook who doesn't make me want to gauge my eyes out', so she knew the pogues from around although they'd grown apart the girls shared no bad blood and always stopped to catch up when they saw each other around.

He was in the middle of raking the leaves from the large pool when he saw her. She was crossing the garden from the large mansion, clad in a bikini with sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. JJ hates how good she looks, her curves perfectly on display and a confident aura around her.

She's got headphones in, he notices as she saunters closer.

"Hi princess," He smirks, watching as she rolls her eyes

"I'm not your princess. How long are you gonna be?" She questions, settling onto one of the sun loungers next to the pool

"An hour or so," JJ states

"Well, could you do it quietly I'm hungover and I wanna just relax," She states, slipping the second headphone back into her ear before he can reply.

He cleans, unaware of her watching him from behind the glasses as she sips on her bottle of cold water. She would never tell anyone but watching him work, his muscles tensing and untensing under his vest shirt, a light sweat from the hot summer day on his skin, she couldn't help herself from thinking he looked good.

He would definitely admit to John B that he thought she looked fit. Her breasts spilling out of her bikini top a little and the barely there thong bottom's high cut making her legs look excruciatingly long. He'd probably make some crude jokes about hate sex being way more fun. He wouldn't admit though, to finding something very comforting about her presence, and finding the way she hummed along to whatever she was listening too adorable.

It's a further 40 minutes, JJ is trying to work out how to get the pool vaccuum to turn on, when her phone rings loudly.

"Hey Sare," Her voice speaks. JJ figures quickly it's Sarah Cameron, the pair are practically inseparable and the whole island knows it.

He half listens to her side of the conversation, more out of boredom than interest.

"No, babes, I love you and all but I really don't wanna. The last million times I've seen Rafe he's been so weird and creepy and I don't wanna be alone with him,"

JJ doesn't know why the comment angers him so much. Why does he even care if Rafe is clearly trying to pull her? It's none of his business. Yet, he can feel his blood boiling at the thought.

"No Sar, if I go and you have to stay with me then you can't go and be with Topper,"

She's silent for a few minutes before sighing "Fine. Fine, I'll come. See you in a minute. Bring me some shorts, I'm in the garden and can't be arsed to go upstairs and find some. You owe me forever,"

JJ wants to scream. Wants to tell her she shouldn't go if she feels uncomfortable around Kelce. He wishes Kie were here, maybe she could talk her into staying where she felt safe.  Maybe she would be able to explain why JJ even gives a shit.

"Maybank," She states, he looks up, trying to act like he hasn't been listening. "I'm going out. You'll be the only one here," She informs

"Okay," He nods.

"My keys are on the kitchen counter, lock up when you're done and I'll just grab them from you at the hotel,"

"All right," He agrees

"When will you be there?" She questions, looking at him like he's an idiot. He groans internally, obviously she needed to know that.

"Tomorrow, 2 until closing,"

'"I'll swing by around 4," She informs. He nods, trying not to stare at her as she lets her hair down from the ponytail it had been in, shaking it out. A car honks outside and she turns, walking up the garden towards the side gates, turning a few metres away,

"Oh, there's an envelope on the kitchen counter with your tip in," She adds

"Thanks. Goodbye princess," He smiles,

"Still not your princess," she shouts back, turning and disappearing round the corner.

THE CAR

JJ felt a lot more in his element when her dad had called him asking if he could fix her car. He hadn't specified it was his eldest daughters, and JJ knew the family owned 7 cards despite only 3 of them even being able to drive.

JJ recognised it though, a white convertible porsche, he'd seen her driving it around before. Wether she was blasting music with the roof down singing with Sarah, picking up a take out from the wreck, driving around in the middle of the night, she'd even given Kie a lift to the Chateau before. He realised that he always seemed to notice her presence.

He was working in the family's garage, the bonnet popped open and grease all over him. It was an easy fix, if a little fiddly.

He jumped out of his skin when the door burst open.  He is immediately taken aback by how good she looks. Clad in a tight black skirt that is ridiculously short, heels and a tight black V neck top with a lace trim around the neck. Her hair falls in bouncy curls around her shoulders and her makeup looks perfect. He would have sworn on everything he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"You're a boy," The girl states.

"Good job noticing that one princess," JJ smirks, she rolls her eyes.

"I have a date and Sarah is being so unhelpful, can you help me pick a top?" She questions, he gulps, nodding.

"Okay, so this is option 1,"

"It looks good,"

"Right. But is it sexy? Do you look at me and think I wanna slam her against a wall and rail her?"

His eyes widen a little, that's one way of putting it he decides.

"Look, I'm your families help, I shouldn't be answering that,"

"Like I care Maybank," She groans, exasperated.

"Okay fine, I look at you in that and I think I wanna rip your clothes off,"

"Okay good. Option 2," She starts. JJ is shocked when she pulls her top off in front of him, without even turning around. He turns around, although not without taking a mental picture of her boobs being pushed up in a red lace bra. "Who knew you were a prude?"

"Just respecting you princess," He comments

"You've seen me in a bikini, what's the difference?" She questions, he stays silent having no quick comment to respond with. "I'm dressed," She states

He turns back around, she looks good, a forest green top made of satin.

"The first one is sexy, that one is cute,"

"Thanks JJ, oh, and hey, thanks for fixing my car,"

"Uh. Yeah, anytime,"

THE SUMMER HOUSE

JJ was happy to paint the summer house. He claimed to his friends it was just because they way over paid and tipped big. In reality it was because for three days straight he would get to catch glimpses of her. And he did.

He saw her when she swam in her pool.

He saw her when she played in the garden with her little sister.

He saw her when she cloud gazed with Sarah Cameron.

The best times he got to see her though, were when she would bring him stuff. Every so often she'd knock on the open door to the summer house, sometimes with water, sometimes with snacks, a few times even with a beer. A couple of times she stopped and made small talk, one time she even smeared paint on his cheek and giggled as he chased her through the garden.

He enters the kitchen, used to how the family worked now. An envelope of money waiting on the kitchen counter, they always seemed to be coming and going so it was easier.

He was shocked to see her in the kitchen, she's scrolling on her phone sipping on what looks to be an iced coffee

"Oh, hey JJ," She smiles

"Hey, I'm done," he informs, she nods, watching as he picks up the envelope "So, I'll be seeing you around,"

"Did you want a lift?" She questions, he looks at her slightly confused "I just noticed your bike wasn't here and it's kinda late to be walking back. It's a long walk,"

"You really don't have to princess,"

"Honestly, it's fine," she assures, jumping up and grabbing her keys before heading towards the garage.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hating JJ Maybank, wasn't sure when she started noticing little things like the blue in his eyes and which snapback he was wearing and how tired he looked. She wasn't sure when the sight of his bike in the driveway started giving her butterflies.

"So where is your bike?" She questions, the roof of the car is down and the wind blowing through her hair as she pulls out of the private estate her home is on.

"Didn't have enough fuel to get to yours and back," He shrugs

"Why didn't you just-" She cuts herself off "Shit, I'm so sorry. That was insanely rude, I wasn't even thinking and-" He chuckles, watching as she splutters and blushes

"It's okay. Life is different on the cut I can understand how a kook princess wouldn't get it," He shrugs, she nods, still not sure what to say.

"Y'know my life isn't perfect," She comments, he scoffs, unable to help himself. "I'm not kidding. It's privileged as fuck, I know that, but it's not perfect,"

"Go on then princess, what's so shit?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so harsh, he's genuinely curious

"My parents, they have basically planned my entire life, down to where I'll go to college, what sorority I'll be in, where I'll work my summer internship, who I'll marry, where I'll get married, which big kook house I'll live in,  at what age I'll have to give up my career, which has been decided for me by them, to start trying for babies. It's 24 by the way so in 8 years. My whole life is decided and I don't want it. I wanna go on a trip around the world and surf and travel and explore. I wanna fall in love and get my heartbroken again and again until I find the right guy. I wanna live in a New York apartment and I wanna see the world. I don't wanna marry Rafe Cameron just cause our mothers are friends. I mean he's literally scary and harasses me and acts like even though I'm 16 I shouldn't have a choice cause one day he'll father my kids. And no one gets it, none of my friends, not even my best friend. The only person who ever understood why it was so shit was Kie and then she left, she left and lives her life and it's fun and exciting and anything could happen. I don't hate her for it but it fucking sucks that she left me miserable. I'll be miserable living my planned out life and then I'll die. Yeah, I have money and that's fucking great, but my life is far from perfect,"

JJ sits in a stunned silence. He's not really sure what to say. Their problems were very different but hers were just as shitty. He feels like he's seeing her in a whole new light.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't tell people that and we barely no each other," She mutters, not wanting to look at him

"Where would you go first?" His question surprised her

"On my fictitious surf trip?" She questions, he nods "Europe, Spain I think,"

They sit in silence the rest of the way, it's not awkward though, both of them feel comforted by each other presence. He gives her instructions to the chateau.

"We are probably gonna drink some beers and smoke. You wanna stay? You could crash here and drive home in the morning," JJ offers

"I can't. My family are having dinner at the hotel. Thanks though," She smiles gently

"Yeah. Uh, I hope it's not too shit. Thanks for the ride princess,"

He climbs out of the car, his friends who sit on the porch immediately calling out to him, they're all laughing and teasing him about his lift home and when he looks back he almost thinks he sees a look of longing in her eyes before she's reversing out of the chateau.

THE BOAT

"Can you fix it?" She questions. JJ Maybank has never seen her look nervous before.

It was only 6:30 AM when she'd started banging on the door to the Chateau, tears in her eyes and panic on her face hoping JJ would be here. John B had pulled the door open, half asleep and groaning a little at the bright sunlight. He'd let her into the small home and disappeared to wake JJ up. John B opted not to put too much thought into the way the minute her name was said JJ leaped out of bed and shoved into the living area, the way his hands cupped her cheeks to see if she was okay, the way he was calling her princess as he tried to calm down her hiccuping tears.

"I can fix it," He confirms. They're standing on the deck of her families boat "It's an easy fix princess, okay? don't even worry," He speaks in a comforting tone

"Thank you JJ,"

"No worries. It'll take me a while, you got anywhere to be?"

"No. Well yes, a breakfast thing with the Cameron's but it's at my house and I can't exactly show up without the boat so,"

"So you're hiding out here all day?" JJ questions

"Well, I don't wanna intrude. I can go and hang out at the beach,"

"Don't talk nonsense, you can hang here. C'mon, I need to be down the bottom with the engine, you can sit and entertain me,"

She watches intently as he works, now that he's not working at her house he hasn't bothered with a shirt, instead just wearing shorts and his infamous red baseball cap. He glances at her occasionally, her makeup streaky from crying and wearing a short white dress.

"So, wanna tell me what happened?" He questions

"Not really," She admits, he nods and she sighs before beginning to explain"Rafe wanted to go boating late and then it all went wrong and then we got the boat to the nearest dock, hence why we are in the middle of nowhere, and he said he was going to call someone to get a lift and it was rainy so I was waiting in here.  It had been a while so I went outside to check on him and he was gone. I didn't know what to do. Dad would kill me for breaking the boat, do I just kinda figured I'd walk to yours and hopefully you would no how to fix it. Then I realised I have no clue where you live so I walked to John B's and hoped for the best,"

"He just left you in the middle of nowhere alone?" JJ doesn't know why he's so mad, they were hardly even friends

"Yeah. He texted me to let me know it was cause he's already in shit with his dad and didn't wanna go down for breaking my family's boat," She shrugs, JJ wants to go and find Rafe Cameron and beat his skull in.

"Look, a girl like you deserves someone who would treat them a million times better than that,"

"I always thought you hated me," She admits

"So did I, until this summer I kinda did," He shrugs

"What changed?" She asks, the question is so vulnerable he can't help himself from looking at her

"You aren't what I thought you'd be," He admits, she nods slowly

"How should a girl like me be treated?" She questions

"Like they're the only thing on earth," He's not really sure why he's so openly telling her how he feels but it feels too late now

"Is that how you'd treat me Maybank?"

"Girls like you don't date boys like me," He shrugs, turning quickly back to what he's doing, not wanting her to recognise the disappointment on his face.

THE PARTY

It was no secret her family hosted a big formal party on the 10th of July every year, her parents wedding anniversary. JJ had waited the party the last 2 years and this summer was no different, he'd even managed to get John B and Pope a job too.

His heart had stopped when he saw her, her dress was the exact shade of blue as the sky and flowed beautifully down to her feet, her hair curled with the front pinned back, her makeup beautiful. She looked like an angel approaching him and god why did she have to look so perfect.

"Hey JJ," She smiles, grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray he's holding "Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course," He agrees, expecting some job that needed doing for the party

"If you see Rafe and I'm on my own..." She trails off "I'm trying to avoid him, after the other day,"

It's three hours into the party when JJ grabs her hand, pulling her along behind him and away from Rafe who is clearly trying to catch her alone. He pulls her into a small cupboard slamming the door closed behind him and locking it.

"What was that about?"

"Rafe," He shrugs, he didn't outwardly say he'd been watching her all night to make sure he could look out for her. He also didn't say he would have been watching her all night even if she hadn't asked him too.

"JJ, you know how your coming over next week to fix that one  door that you can't open from inside the cupboard?" She question

"Yeah," He states, peering out of the key hole to see if Rafe is still looking for her

"Well, this is the cupboard,"

"Shit!" He shouts, pulling away from the door to face her. "Shit, it's your parents wedding anniversary and I got you locked in the cupboard,"

"It's alright," She shrugs "They hate each other most the time anyway,"

"Call someone to let you out,"

"Where on this dress did you think there was pockets, you call someone,"

"My phone is in the twinkie,"

"The what?"

"John B's car," JJ sighs. "Fuck princess, I'm so sorry," He groans

"It's fine. Sarah will come looking for me eventually," She shrugs. He nods, watching as she sits down on the ground, patting the space next to her.

He obliges, sitting next to her, knees touching in the tight space.

"You look nice tonight, I like the shirt and tie," She compliments, he can feel himself blush and is glad the cupboard is dark enough she probably can't see it.

"Y'know what you said on the boat the other day?" She questions, he immediately knows what she's referring too "About how girls like me don't date boys like you,"

"Yeah," He confirms

"Why is that?" She questions quietly

"I couldn't make you happy princess. Your parents would hate me. I couldn't take you on the fancy dates you're used to. You wouldn't be happy,"

"My parents love you, they think you're resourceful and hard working. I hate the stuffy dates figure 8 boys take me on," She informs, he laughs a little at that. "Besides, you already make me happy. I'm just saying Maybank, if you don't wanna date me just say it, don't try and put it on me,"

JJ isn't really sure how to react. How to explain he desperately wanted to date her, wanted her to be his girl and wanted to shower her in love and adoration. He isn't sure how to tell her that by inadvertently telling him she wanted to date him she had made him the happiest man on earth. He's not really great with words and it all feels too hard to say.

So, instead, he turns slightly, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to him, his lips crashing against hers and somehow she knows everything he wanted to say.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – One // Wanda Maximoff

story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter two

author’s note: here’s the long-awaited first chapter! i do hope you all enjoy!

Also a quick one – Y/B/N = your brother’s name, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/D/N = your dad’s name

"You move anymore and you're gonna hit a waiter."

I gave my brother a disapproving look as he grinned at my dismay. "Easy for you to say. You're wearing a suit and not a dress that's heavier than your body."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Y/N, you complain too much. Look where we are! You need to learn to enjoy yourself."

Taking a look around the room, I saw a hall filled with people I didn't know mingling with one another. Flutes of champagne were on almost every hand and laughter filled the air as everybody enjoyed their evening, soaking in the luxuries of a ball somebody I didn't know was hosting. Orchestral music was drowned out by conversations and servers moved through the hall like mice, scuttling around and constantly topping up champagne. I wasn't a fan, as usual.

"Are you both ready? Your father is bringing the Maximoffs here any second," my mother's voice grabbed my attention. "Y/N, at least try to look happy to be here." 

I forced a smile, making her give me a knowing look before looking to my brother and fixing his tie.

"You both know how important this is," she told us for the millionth time, fussing over my brother's appearance. "They're expecting–"

"Well-behaved, respectful individuals," I finished for her. "We know, mum. You've told us only a gazillion times."

She pressed her lips together, hands on her hips as her eyes fell to me, displeased. "If this engagement is to go as planned, I need you on your best behaviour."

"I'm always on my best behaviour," I reassured her. "But okay. I'll lighten up."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile, before glancing over her shoulder. "Okay. Here they come. Smiles, please."

My brother looked to me, showing me his teeth. "Is there anything in my teeth?"

I cracked a smile to make myself feel better. "Gums."

He gave me a disappointed look. "You know men don't like women who are smart arses." 

I rolled my eyes at his comment, knowing men didn't like women who didn't like men. But, of course, I didn't say that.

All her and my dad had been talking about for the past few weeks was this engagement. My brother, a very successful author, was to be engaged to his publisher's twin sister, some girl called Wanda. The Maximoffs were an esteemed family and their unification with ours was in everyone's best interests, especially my brother's who was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.

I didn't know much about the Maximoffs, only that their son and my brother's 'boss', if you will, Pietro, ran a successful publishing house. It had been in their family name since their parents emigrated to England from Sokovia when Pietro and Wanda were children. They'd built themselves up from nothing and were now high members of society, the perfect family to be involved with.

Y/B/N was to be engaged to Wanda, their daughter, since she was getting to that age where they wanted to find someone for her. My brother's name was put into the mix when Pietro recommended him and the rest was history.

Tonight was the first unofficial meeting with them and my mother had been nonstop lecturing me on the dos and don't's of how to act, as if I was a child that couldn’t behave. Of course, it was only a mere greeting. The true engagement was to be proposed tomorrow night, but that didn't matter to my fussy mother who was insistent on making a good impression.

I found myself straightening up and pressing my hands down my dress to rid it of creases as my brother adjusted his blazer. The Maximoffs were being led our way by my father, the four of them all with smiles on their lips and flutes of champagne in their hands.

"Dear, I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs Maximoff and their lovely children, Pietro and Wanda," my dad introduced, stopping before us, before looking to the Maximoffs. "This is my family. My wife, Y/M/N, and my children, Y/N and Y/B/N."

"Please, call me Oleg and my wife Iryna," the twins' father, Oleg, said with a kind smile. He held out his hand to my mother, adding, "It's a pleasure, Y/M/N."

They shook hands and then looked to my brother and I, exchanging quick greetings with us. As they were saying something to my brother, probably gushing over his writing as everyone did, I took a look at the quiet twins behind them.

I vaguely recognised the guy and his striking silver hair from my brother's work, knowing he was Pietro. But I'd never seen the girl before and knew immediately that if I had, I wouldn't forget her face. She was stunning, it didn't take a genius to see that. But not the stunning that you glanced once at and forgot about. No, she was the stunning that knocked the breath out of you and made you forget what your name was.

"...lovely to meet you again!" my brother was saying all the right things to impress his soon-to-be in-laws, but it went over me as I found myself unable to tear my gaze from this mystery woman.

Further introductions went on in the background, before the green eyes I was so enthralled with were looking my way, making me blink suddenly. I instantly looked away, afraid I'd been caught, and zoned back into the conversation that was taking place.

"It's great to finally put a name to a face," the girl, Wanda, was saying to my brother with a honey sweet smile and sultry Russian-accented voice, and judging by his expression, he was just as caught up in her beauty as I was. "I look forward to getting to know you more."

"And I you," he returned with his signature grin.

Her eyes fell to mine once again, lips curving into an amused smile. "And of course, Y/B/N's beautiful sister, Y/N. How lucky a man he must be to have a sister as stunning as you."

The others chuckled, clearly taken by Wanda's smooth way with words. In their eyes, it was flattery at its finest. After all, she was to be welcomed into our family and sucking up to the sister was the best way forward. But I guess, I'd like to believe that there was some truth to her words as her entrancing green eyes sparkled with delight.

"You don't need to win over my sister to get on my good side," Y/B/N joked before I could speak, stealing Wanda's attention away momentarily.

She suppressed a laugh, tilting her head as she studied him with an unreadable expression, before looking to me with curious eyes.

"Thank you for your kind words, Wanda," I finally said to her, offering a small smile.

"Anytime," she quipped, biting her lip to contain her smile.

It was oh so wrong of me to even slightly check her out as she did, knowing that it was not only inappropriate since she was to be my brother's bride, but also wrong since she was a girl and I wasn't supposed to do this. A heat crept up neck as I avoided her teasing gaze, wondering if she knew what she was doing or if she was just a naturally flirty person.

"I'm Pietro," her brother spoke, making me look up again. He was directing a charming smile my way as he continued, "It's an honour to finally meet my best author's younger sister."

I put out my hand for him to shake, but he simply grabbed it and pressed a gentle kiss to the top. I flushed at the contact, a nervous smile on my lips.

"Er, it's nice to meet you, too, Pietro," I returned, subtly wiping my hand when he let go of it.

The twins stood side by side, smiling our way, and I realised just why all the chatter in our social circles revolved around them. Charming, distinguished, good-looking – they were the whole package.

Our parents continued to talk, catching up and talking about stuff I didn't care much for. Every now and then, Y/B/N would chime in if a question was directed his way, or Pietro would add his two cents, or Wanda would say something funny, and I would pretend to get along with all of them when I so desperately wished to go home and go to sleep.

Admittedly, my eyes veered over to my soon-to-be sister-in-law every now and then, unable to look away. She was drop dead gorgeous, with bright hazel eyes that looked green like the earth at this moment, and long brown hair that was pulled back out of her face, revealing her charming smile. Sometimes, when she would smile really widely, a dimple would expose itself on her left cheek at the corner of her mouth, and I was sure that nothing else was cuter than that. Y/B/N was one lucky man.

"...would love for you all to come to our home tomorrow evening for dinner," my father was inviting them all over, bringing me back to reality. "It'll be a great way to get to know each other in a more intimate setting. And it'll give the kids a better chance to get to know each other."

Iryna smiled brightly. "We would love to, Y/D/N. Tomorrow evening is great."

"Perfect," my mum said excitedly. "We'll see you all then."

"Do enjoy the rest of your evening," Oleg said, looking to us all, before looking to my brother. "And Y/B/N, it was good to meet you tonight. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."

"You, too, sir," Y/B/N said, shaking his hand with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Oleg and Iryna gave us all a smile before turning to leave. Pietro and Wanda did the same, though when Wanda's eyes flickered to mine, she waved her fingers slowly and with a playful smile on her lips. My mouth opened slightly, unsure what to do or say, but nobody seemed to notice as she turned and left, leaving me standing there with confusion.

"Well, I think that went well," my mum said, and I tore my gaze from Wanda's retreating form. "Couldn't have gone better actually."

"I agree," my dad said, wrapping an arm around my mum's waist with a smile. "Tomorrow night will be splendid." He looked to Y/B/N. "What did you think of Wanda, son?"

Y/B/N looked like he was on top of the world with his love struck smile and relaxed posture. "She's beautiful. And did you hear that accent? Wonderful."

My mother chuckled. "How sweet. You're already smitten."

"What did you think of her, Y/N?" my brother asked, and all eyes fell to me.

I straightened up. "Oh, I– er– she's very nice. A beautiful young woman."

"Right?" he said in agreement. "I feel like she really likes you, too. How cool is that? You guys can become friends and be, like, close sister-in-laws."

I forced a small smile. "Yeah. Something like that."

Of course, for everyone's benefit, getting along with Wanda Maximoff was the best bet. But something about her was different and I was yet to discover what.

—

The following evening was when we saw the Maximoffs next. As invited, they turned up at our front door dressed less glamorously than last night, given the occasion, but appearing just as excited. Our servants were quick to take their jackets and hang them up elsewhere as we exchanged greetings in the hall.

The Maximoff parents were genuinely kind and humbling people to be around, I'd come to learn that when they thanked our servants for their help and asked them how their day was, making friendly chatter. Not many people did that when entering our home – it was certainly refreshing to see. They greeted Y/B/N and I kindly before moving onto our parents.

The Maximoff children were just as kind, though with a hint of mischief in their stride as they moved to greet my brother and I. Pietro approached me first, lips pulling into a smile as he bowed playfully. In the corner of my eye, I could see Wanda and Y/B/N exchanging greetings.

"It's a pleasure to be in your presence yet again, Y/N," Pietro said generously. "You look lovely this evening."

A smile appeared on my lips at his kind eyes. "Thank you, Pietro. You look very handsome this evening also."

"Apparently it's lamb for dinner, is that true?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I wasn't sure if he was serious, but when his sister slapped him on the arm, I figured he was.

"Don't be greedy, Piet," she scolded him like this was a regular thing.

"What? It was a simple question," he said with a shrug, before looking to my brother with a grin. "Ah, Y/B/N Y/L/N, my favourite writer."

As he moved over to greet him, Wanda looked over to me with a knowing smile.

"It's good to see you again," she said softly, maintaining eye contact.

"You, too," I played along with whatever was happening, the usual script at a time like this. "I'm sure tonight will be something special for you and my brother. It's good to have you here."

She tilted her head intimidatingly. "Bol'shoye tebe spasibo."

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by her ability to change languages so smoothly. Though, it made sense since she was Sokovian, making Russian her first language. Didn't make it any easier to not be attracted to though.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. disguising my attraction with genuine confusion. "What does that mean?"

She smiled, a hint of smugness present as she answered, "Thank you very much. That's what it means."

I pressed my lips together, humming in response. She held my gaze for a second longer than usual and I wanted to look away, but I was drawn in by the beautiful golden flecks swirled into her irises, captivating and chilling all at once. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the eye contact, instead revelling in it with a content smirk when she saw me squirm. I ended up looking away first, unable to hold a pretty girl's gaze for more than a few seconds without panicking.

"I have something to show you!" my brother was saying excitedly to Pietro. "It's in my study, c'mon."

The two of them wandered off before my mum could stop them.

"Don't be too long, boys!" she called after them, before sighing and looking to Wanda and I. "Y/N, dear, why don't you show Wanda around upstairs, maybe? Hopefully the boys should be back after that and we can all eat dinner together."

I swallowed hard, glancing at a still-smirking Wanda, before looking back to my mum. "Erm, are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, go on, it'll give you ladies a chance to get to know each other better!" she insisted, before ushering me away. "Don't take too long though. Dinner will be ready soon."

Licking my lips nervously, I nodded, watching my mum return to the conversation my dad and Wanda's parents were having. They were led into the living room as Wanda and I were left standing in the hall, her waiting for me to say something.

"This way, I guess," I got out awkwardly, purposely avoiding her eyes as I motioned to the grand staircase.

"After you," she said politely, and I said nothing as I took the lead.

I ended up showing her around the upstairs rooms, including the library we had and the many guest rooms. It was a big home with lots to show for it, so the tour wasn't too boring.

Wanda stayed quiet throughout it, sometimes dropping in a comment or question every now and then, but otherwise listening intently as I explained everything as interestingly as I could. When she did speak, she would leave me fumbling for words or forgetting how to speak altogether. I wondered if she was teasing me on purpose, wanting to get a rise out of her soon-to-be sister-in-law, or if she just wasn't aware of what she was doing.

But every time her mischievous gaze fell to me with a matching smile, I knew that she had to be aware of her actions. Nobody was that teasing without wanting to be. So, that led me to my next question. Why?

Eventually, the last room on the tour was my bedroom. I stepped inside first, holding the door open for her as she followed after and looked around with amusement.

"This is your room," she stated, feet taking her further inside as she took in the appearance of my desk, my bed and my wardrobe. "Fascinating."

I was curious to know what she meant by that, but realising that this woman was an enigma in more ways than one, I knew she wouldn't give me a straight answer. So, I said nothing as I followed after her, remaining close as she soaked in my belongings.

Stopping at my desk, her eyes gazed over the papers spilling from closed notebooks, books marked with string and pens littered across the wood. Thankfully, nothing was open and she didn't seem to be the nosy type, so had no intention of going through anything.

"I see you like writing," she noticed, fingers hovering above the notebooks but not quite making a move to touch them. "Runs in the family, doesn't it?"

"I guess," I said, unsure what she wanted to hear.

She looked up at me, smile tugging at her lips. The same damned smile that had been directed at me since she got here.

"Do you write like your brother?"

I tried not to laugh. "More like he writes like me."

She watched me closely, amusement dancing in her eyes. "He's the author in the family."

I mirrored her smile, though mine was fake. "Published author, love. Doesn't make him the only one."

A chuckle flew from her lips as she looked across my messy desk again, clearly not offended by the hint of annoyance in my voice. I shouldn't have been so offended by her words – she didn't know anything about me – but it always ground my gears when people stuck up for Y/B/N like he was God's gift.

"Do you write?" I asked, half interested and half wanting to change the subject. The least I could do was try to get to know her a little better.

"I prefer painting," she answered without mischief. "It's my favourite thing to do."

Her eyes lit up at the mere mention of art, but she did a good job at reigning it in. She was still studying the books on my desk, distracting herself with the spines instead of facing me.

"And what do you like to paint?" I asked, genuinely interested now that I was beginning to see her actually fond of something that didn't involve making me flustered.

She shrugged, but I knew it was a pretence. "Scenery. Landscapes. We have a beautiful garden at home and it's a pleasure to paint." She finally met my eyes again, a smile of adoration on her lips as she continued talking about the garden. "The flowers, the trees, the little pond we have. It's the perfect subject."

The smile that appeared on my lips was automatic as her passion for her hobby was contagious. The way her whole face lit up, eyes bright with excitement and lips unable to do anything but smile, was intoxicating and I tried not to get lost in the moment. It was true though, what people said. Nobody looked more beautiful than when talking about something they loved.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," I told her earnestly.

Playfulness returning, she hummed in agreement. "Only if I can see yours."

I laughed, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe not."

"Well, that's a shame," she said, still playful, though when I looked up, I almost believed her.

She did that thing again, where she stared at me and held my gaze as if reading my innermost private thoughts. Intimidating wasn't the word, yet it was the only one in my mind as I watched her attempt to decipher me. Clearing my throat, I looked away, suddenly aware of how close she was stood.

"So, my brother," I changed the subject yet again, noticing the entertained expression she wore. "You like him?"

"We are to be engaged, are we not?" she asked with a quirked brow, like the answer was obvious.

I hid the smile from my lips. "That's not what I asked, love."

She licked her lips, pursing them as she saw what I was trying to do. My eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth as she did, and I almost forgot to look away until she started speaking again.

"My parents arranged this," she admitted, not losing composure. "Y/B/N is a gentleman and he seems like a kind man."

I noticed how she still avoided answering the question, but decided not to say anything about it. My eyes studied her curiously though, wondering why exactly she'd agreed to the marriage then. Maybe it was a sense of duty, like every woman had nowadays. Eventually my time would come too and maybe I would be stuck in the same position as her.

"I adore his writing though," she added, like she needed to say something genuine to make up for her lack of answer.

"You and every other woman in the city," I mumbled knowingly.

Wanda let out a breathy laugh. "I'm aware of his many admirers, yes, but can you blame them? He has such a fantastic way with words. And don't get me started on that first piece he ever wrote..." Her eyes rolled back with satisfaction. "It's my favourite. I had no idea who he was back then, but the words he wrote were enough to make me fall in love. I guess it's convenient that my new husband is to be your brother, the author."

I crossed my arms as I leaned against the desk, trying not to break out into laughter. Not because of Wanda's words – they were actually quite sweet – but because of the whole situation. It was hilarious to me, since I was the reason Y/B/N got his big break as a writer anyway.

Following in our father's footsteps, Y/B/N wrote manuscript after manuscript with hopes of getting published. But unfortunately, he never got anywhere with it. I was also a writer, having been taught by my father like Y/B/N when I was a young girl, but unlike him, I was told to stop when I got older because it was 'unladylike' and 'not a woman's place'. That didn't stop me however, and I continued to write like no tomorrow.

Y/B/N's big break, and the first manuscript of his that got published by Pietro – ironically the one that Wanda was discussing right now – was written by me. I gave it to my brother, hoping he could get inspiration. He ended up sending that in and getting signed because of my work. And even now, I occasionally helped him work on pieces that otherwise wouldn't see the light of day.

But nobody wanted to hear about the young, unmarried woman who writes about other women like they are God's best creation. So, Y/B/N keeps the fame and credit whilst I write in private, unable to share any of my work with the world unless it's in excerpts of my brother's books with his name on the front cover.

"That first piece was pretty good, wasn't it?" I played along with Wanda's words, a hint of bitterness in my tone of voice.

Wanda studied me up and down, teasing smile tugging at her lips. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya."

I hummed in acknowledgement, feigning a smile in response, though I wasn't sure what that last word meant. Probably another Russian term she was using to throw me off. Of course she'd assume I was jealous of my brother's recognition. She didn't know the truth and she never could. She was also to marry my brother, the perfect author, soon; my bitter state was merely a jealous sibling and maybe it was easier to let her think that way.

"Dinner should be ready now," I told her, straightening up. "Let's head down."

She followed after me and I said nothing else as I led her back downstairs, trying not to think about how much of an ego-boost this dinner would be for my brother.

There was nothing better than hearing everyone gush over the work your brother took credit for that you actually did, right?

"Ah, ladies, perfect timing!" said my mum when we reached the dining room where everyone was taking their seats. "Please, sit and we can get started. It's a lovely roast from the kitchen tonight."

As I made my way to my usual seat opposite my brother, I saw Pietro fist-pump the air at the mention of the lamb roast, making Wanda roll her eyes and me smile at his action. Y//B/N took his seat and Wanda's parents seemed to take the two chairs beside him already. My parents took to each end of the table, leaving the Maximoff twins no choice but to sit beside me. I sat at the same spot as usual, at the edge of the table so my left-handed self wouldn't bother whoever was sat beside me, and take a lucky guess to who sat on my right.

"Wanda, dear, how was your tour?" my mum asked her as she got comfortable beside me, leg and shoulder almost touching mine and making me both nervous and disgruntled.

With a grin wide enough to impress my mother, she answered, "It was great. You have a beautiful home, Mrs Y/L/N. And Y/N was a lovely host."

At that last comment, I felt her eyes glance towards me and I wondered if she was having fun making me squirm because I knew for sure that I was anything but a lovely host.

"That's reassuring to hear," my mother responded as the food was brought out and placed in the centre of the table. She seemed like she was joking, but I knew she was just glad I'd been on my best behaviour. "And please, call me Y/M/N."

Wanda nodded gratefully as my dad began to cut into the roast. Food was served up and drinks were poured as everybody began to dig in. The Maximoffs sent their compliments to the chef, admired our home and were the perfect guests, just as they were expected to be. My family complimented Wanda and Pietro's manners, talked about how business was going and laughed at every joke Oleg and Iryna uttered, just as they were expected to be. It really was a picture-perfect scene and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Okay, maybe I was acting a little cynical. The Maximoffs weren't that bad, at least not as bad I'd assumed they would be compared to my parents' other friends. They were down-to-Earth and humbled people, a welcoming change from the usual. I just hated forced dinners and being scrutinised under my mother's eyes to behave, hence the clipped attitude.

And just on cue, the topic steered towards something lovely.

"We can't forget to talk about Y/B/N, bestselling author over here!" Oleg beamed, motioning to my brother. "I have to admit, son, I'm amazed at your writing. You clearly have your father's talent."

My brother smiled bashfully as I watched on with narrowed eyes and a tight grip on my fork.

"You flatter me," he said, but Iryna shook her head.

"I have to agree with my husband here, Y/B/N," she said. "Your writing is superb. Pietro, obviously, loves it, and Wanda is a huge fan, too."

At this, my brother glanced towards Wanda with excited eyes and she merely smiled and looked elsewhere, either embarrassed to be mentioned or playing coy. Rolling my eyes came naturally at this point.

"Tell me, how did you think of what to write for that first book?" Iryna asked with intrigue. "It was my favourite one."

Ah, yes, the first book. Apparently everyone's favourite one.

"Oh, it's best not to bring all that up–"

"I'd actually like to know, too," Wanda cut him off, her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned forward onto the palm of her hand and watched him under long eyelashes.

I couldn't keep the smile of delight from my face as I too leaned forward curiously, eyeing my brother. "Yes, dear, brother. Please, do tell us of how you came to write such an honest, heartfelt first book."

At this, I felt both my parents send me a warning look as they knew the truth. But neither of the Maximoffs noticed as their attention was solely on my brother.

Luckily for him, he was a great liar and he smiled his charming smile and nodded, looking between the four guests.

"I guess it started after my third failed manuscript," he began, very believably. "I realised that there was something missing from my pages. Something real and genuine. Something that would appeal to my readers and make them question just how much they were appreciating their partner, you know?"

As he rambled off into another literary spout of nonsense, my smile faded and I gritted my teeth, wondering how he'd gotten so good at lying without giving away a sliver of pretence. The Maximoffs were hanging onto his every word, fascinated by the mind of a writer. I tried not to let it get to me as he butchered the meaning behind everything I had written in that first novel. Some things were better left unsaid.

When he finished, questions were fired his way and my parents watched on with pride in their eyes, as he answered them with ease. I chose to stay quiet, as usual, letting him soak in the credit for something he didn't do.

"And what do you think, Y/N?" Wanda's voice included me in the conversation, and everybody's eyes fell to me. I was only looking at her as her lips were pulled into a wide, suggestive smile and she continued, "How is it being the sister of one of today's bestselling authors?"

The usual forced smile that accompanied my lips whenever talking about Y/B/N because present, but my eyes were questioning Wanda's as she was clearly trying to get a rise out of me yet again, especially now that she assumed I was jealous of her husband-to-be's fame. Her stupid beautiful smile and stupid pretty eyes and stupid attractive accent were all taunting me.

"It makes me proud to know that he's come so far from when we were younger," I said, and though I was irritated by the way it had happened, my words weren't entirely false. "He's a talented man and he clearly has a way with words. What more is there to say?"

The elders seemed touched by my words and when I looked over the table to meet my brother's gaze, I saw the gratitude in his expression, hiding behind his smile and reserved for me. I nodded subtly, letting him know I was happy to keep his secret as long as he wished, just like we'd agreed.

Chatter and compliments soon turned to the real reason for our presence – the engagement. I tucked into my dessert as I let them talk about dates for the engagement party, logistics for guests and all the other details I could care less about. Only when my brother mentioned my name did I look up, surprised to see all eyes on me yet again.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked politely, glancing around.

"Y/N, honey, lay off the chocolate cake, will you?" my mum said with a smile that I knew was code for 'put the bloody fork down'.

I forced a smile of my own as I lowered my fork and sat up straight, very ladylike, and looked to my brother.

"I was saying how I'll be sure to pick a beautiful engagement ring for Wanda here," he no-doubt repeated for my sake. "And maybe you could help me choose, to make sure it's something she may like."

A genuine sarcastic smile broke out on my lips, though not because I was interested in ring shopping with my brother. I knew absolutely nothing about dear Wanda or her taste in jewellery, but a woman was to do what she was best at – shopping! So, without sharing my true thoughts on the situation, I nodded respectfully and hummed in agreement.

"Of course," I said what everybody wanted to hear. "I'm sure we can find something to suit Wanda's taste."

Everybody resumed chatter about the wedding as I sighed quietly and got back to my cake. My right hand rested by my side and I jumped, startled when I made contact with Wanda's fingers.

"Sorry," I apologised, moving my hand a little from hers but keeping it there. "Left-handed an' all. I tend to forget."

Green eyes pierced through me with a matching sly smile. "No problem, milaya."

Again with the 'milaya' talk – what did that even mean? I returned the awkward smile as I continued eating, but I didn't fail to notice the way her hand would brush against mine throughout the rest of the meal.

Either by accident or on purpose, I'd never know, but I had my suspicions.

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned. 

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.  

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)   ♡  (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

1.

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen,  and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

2.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

3.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

[milf-harrington]

Reki hadn't been on the patrol with Suki that had captured the three newcomers, but he had been there to see the smallest of them launch himself several feet into the air before announcing that he was the avatar. Apparently there had been an accompanying trick involving marbles but Reki had dropped his fan so he missed it.

And now he was apparently in charge of keeping them occupied while Suki found them somewhere to stay.

"I'm Katara." The water tribe girl brushed the tips of her fingers along the bottom of her pendant as she spoke, big blue eyes warm with a gentle sort of kindness Reki wasn't used to seeing, before gesturing to the taller boy beside her. "And this is my brother Sokka."

The mildly distrustful and hardened look on Sokka's face was more expected, and despite his feigned disinterest in the conversation Reki could see the way he took in their surroundings with a calculating glint to his eyes.

Reki wondered what the village looked like to him, if he was unfamiliar with the sight of trees and grass, the warmth in the air despite being so far south. He wondered if the twitch in Sokka's eyebrow was because he'd noticed the sparkle of frost still clinging to the leaves of a bush after Langa had been entertaining the children earlier that morning, or if it had something to do with the tension in his shoulders, like he was physically holding himself back from something.

"And I'm Aang!" A bright voice piped up, bringing Reki's attention to the big grey eyes and childish grin of the kid who'd wowed the village after claiming to be Kyoshi in a past life. He clearly wasn't much older than Miya, dressed in the yellow and orange robes of the airbending monks, bright blue tattoos a permanent reminder that the kid was a master in his field.

Ah, the identity thief. Reki nodded, remembering the years they'd spent joking about Miya being the Avatar, despite knowing he wasn't. And then, when the rumour about the real Avatar being back had gotten around, Reki had followed Miya around all day, poking and prodding him about how he felt having his identity stolen.

It took exactly 2 seconds to register the confused and mildly hostile expressions on their faces before realising that he had said the identity thief comment out loud.

Spirits.

"Uh," He laughed nervously, tugging on his fingers and quickly scanning the street for a diversion, feeling relief wash through him when he caught sight of Langa sitting on the steps to his house, scribbling something down on a roll of parchment. Hopefully working on his handwriting, but probably not.

"Oh! Let me introduce you to someone!" He smiled wide, trying to move past the whole 'identity theft' joke as quick as possible. Though he boasted about his talents any chance he got, Miya was a private person around strangers, so it was probably best not to blurt out that he could bend air when there hadn't been a known airbender since the beginning of the war.

Langa was apprehensive but polite, welcoming them to the island before kissing Reki's cheek and promising to meet him at Cherry and Joe's later.

There was something in Sokka's expression when Reki turned back to face them that made him pause, before digging into the history of the island as he lead them further down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for any more of his friends.

The look hadn't been bad, exactly- there had been a questioning sort of hopefulness to it, something Reki remembered feeling the first time he saw Cherry and Joe actually kiss. The realisation that it was possible to love another guy, and wondering if it was something he wanted.

When Miya jogged out of Shadow's flower shop, he took one look at Reki and dropped his skateboard on the ground to make a quick getaway, but Reki was wrapping his arms around the kids waist before he could make it very far, board rolling a few feet when Miya kicked his legs in outrage.

Sokka turned out to be pretty interested in Miya's board, immediately asking what it was and how it worked and where it came from. Reki was more than happy to answer his questions, explaining how Cherry had built one when he was a little kid and spent a few years perfecting it before he started building them for other people.

"A lot of us grew up learning how to ride them." He explained, scratching absently at his glove and blinking three times, before stretching out his hand when he realised he'd been clenching it for awhile. "It's easy once you get the hang of it- Langa pretty much perfected it after a few weeks, but Langa's kind of a freak of nature."

Katara and Aang took over the questioning when they moved past the mechanics of it and into the fun stuff, like tricks and speed, all sparkly eyes and big grins when he told them about one of the cooler beefs between Langa and Miya.

When he caught sight of the old cherry blossom tree, twisting up over a familiar house with ribbons of incense smoke snaking through the air from where they'd been lit and placed on the window, he brightened and bounced on his toes.

"And these are my unofficial dads!" He introduced brightly, finding said unofficial dads in the middle of a bickering match in their front yard.

The ground rumbled beneath them right as the sound of sloshing water reached his ears and he watched in amusement as the ground tripped Cherry so he fell backwards at the same time that Joe was drenched in water from a bucket sitting by the porch. Katara's quiet exclamation of Cherry's waterbending was lost under Aangs concern.

"Are they okay?"

He seemed genuinely worried, eyebrows drawn together and fingers twitching like he wanted to do something to help them.

"Yeah, they're always like this. They love each other really, but for whatever reason this is how they choose to express it." He turned back to the kids, with a smile, suddenly itching to get his makeup off his face.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you properly! Joe'll probably want to feed you and if Cherry offers you tea you should definitely accept, he makes the best tea."

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 3 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 3 of my 'Triwizard Baby' mini-series, please read Parts 1 and 2 if you haven't already. Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of smut/light smut.

After that night, Fred dreamt of you more often, and the pain inside of him spread throughout his body, his twin looked at him differently, everyone in Hogwarts looked at him differently now - how could they not? He knocked you up and toyed with your feelings, breaking your heart.

You couldn't believe how fast the months went by as your bump grew in size and your pregnancy journey progressed now reaching halfway through seven months pregnant; being in your third trimester made you incredibly tired, sore, moody, and irritable, and with the final task of the Triwizard Tournament one week away, you felt nervous and slightly on edge.

"What have you decided?" Your mother smiled at you, pulling your hand in hers.

You smiled and stared at your bump, your hand resting on it, you looked up at your mum "I'm keeping it, I want this baby, I want to raise them."

Madame Pomfrey sat across the room, smiling at you, putting together your delivery bag, which was empty - aside from a pack of nappies and one baby bottle.

"Do you need a top-up of your potion?" she asked, nodding to your bump.

Shaking your head you smiled "No, everyone will know soon enough."

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N." Your mother smiled and squeezed your hand "You won't be going through this alone." she reassured you.

You nodded your head, thanking your mum and pulling her into a hug.

"I had you very young" she sighed "I'll make sure that you won't struggle like me and your father did."

"Now," Madame Pomfrey sighed "We need to make a plan for the birth."

Sitting on your bed in your pyjamas, stroking your bump whilst catching up on the classwork you had missed due to constantly being tired and sick, your friends talked amongst themselves, the bedroom now warm and cosy.

"I think it's amazing that you're keeping the baby!" Katie beamed from across the room, flashing you a smile "When we get out of here, we can all move in together and help you raise the baby."

Your heart warmed at the idea and a smile formed on your face, knowing that you had supportive friends helped numb the pain of Fred's absence when you no longer passing in the halls or sharing a class together.

"Really?" you looked up, smiling at your friends, putting down your quill and rolling up your parchment.

"Of course," Angelina smiled "It's what friends are for, and we'll obviously need a strong quidditch player in your family!"

Your heart instantly lost its warmth and started to fall victim to the freezing cold.

but my baby does have a strong quidditch player in the family, their dad is one of the most amazing beaters Gryffindor has ever seen...

"We'll be living in a big house, we'll have our dream jobs, and we'll be helping you raise your baby." Angelina smiled "The world is your oyster!"

Fred waited for his brother to laugh at his joke, but he didn't, which had become a regular occurrence after George found out the truth - and when Fred got with his crush, but it wasn't just George who brushed Fred aside, and he couldn't pretend to not notice anymore.

"Shall we get started on planning our business then, Georgie?" Fred asked eagerly, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

George shook his head, a plain expression on his face "No, I can't actually, I've uh.. got plans." he slowly got out of his chair, and walked away from his brother, hoping Fred would be too tired to care.

"Plans?" Fred asked, following him "Without me?"

George stared at his twin, he hated him right now.

"Yeah, without you." George walked away, cursing under his breath.

'If mum and dad knew, they would be so ashamed' George thought, starting to think of what clothes the baby would need, the clothes that his brother couldn't provide.

Fred rolled his eyes and puffed out his chest, the pain of his best friend hating him, and the other avoiding him, started to chip away at his ego. He didn't want to plan the business alone, and he couldn't plan it with anyone else. Fred couldn't handle being lonely when he wanted company, so he searched for Angelina, finally catching up to her on the Quidditch pitch.

"Oi!" he called out, panting, out of breath from running "Angelina, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this afternoon?"

Angelina stared at Fred, clearly uninterested and more excited about something else.

"Sorry Fred, I can't."

Fred sighed, 'why is everyone avoiding me?'

"Why?" he asked, frowning "You're always free on weekends."

"I've got plans!" Angelina smiled, unable to hold her emotions back, the bottle lid slowly starting to tremble as the liquid inside bubbled up.

"What's going on?" Fred asked again, slightly puzzled as he had never seen her so excited.

"You don't know?!" Angelina gasped "Me, George, and the girls are planning a surprise baby shower for Y/N!" she beamed.

Fred's heart dropped, his heartbeat thumped in his ears, a lump formed in his throat.

baby shower... for Y/N... and George is involved...

Angelina continued to ramble on excitedly, Fred couldn't pay attention, he felt sick, the quidditch pitch wouldn't stop spinning.

How could she be pregnant - do I... do I know the guy? She never told me...

"She's in her third trimester already and she doesn't have a single thing for the baby! Can you believe that? Poor girl!"

George. He's done this. He's been seeing her behind my back.

Fred remembered how you and George got close just before the second tournament, when began to you avoided him and constantly turned him down, spending more time with his twin who was a stranger just months earlier.

"No..." Fred mumbled, "I can't."

"Well, I better get going, baby shopping and all!"

Fred nodded and parted from Angelina, he bunched his hands into fists, tears formed in his beautiful eyes, storming back into Hogwarts he looked everywhere for you, finally finding you in the dim and surprisingly empty library. He couldn't believe his eyes, you were sitting back in your chair, flicking through your charms textbook, your bump huge and the empty potion bottle sitting on the table, staring at Fred, calling him closer.

She's pregnant and she couldn't even tell me.

Looking up, your eyes landed on Fred, your heart skipping a beat, your stomach doing little flips as the father of your child walked up to you, his eyes fixated on your bump.

"So it's true" his voice croaked "you are pregnant."

You swallowed hard, you wanted to tell him the truth, right here, right now - but you couldn't, the damage has already been done, you couldn't get attached to a man who couldn't settle for you, for now, you have a piece of him - and that's enough for you.

"Yeah" you replied "It's uh, scary."

George held the long roll of parchment in his hands, going through the long list whilst Angelina, Katie, Lee, and Matt searched the shops, turning them inside out to find your stuff.

"We've got enough bottles, nappies, and clothes." Lee smiled, picking up the tiniest pair of newborn socks with tiny broomstick patterns on them.

"You can cross the crib off your list too" Matt walked over, carrying a white crib in his arms, covered in astrology symbols "Think this one will do?"

George examined the crib closely and smiled at the thought of his niece or nephew sleeping through the night with a blanket and soft toy beside them.

"It's perfect." George smiled "Y/N will love it."

The more you and Fred spoke in the library, the more you realised just how much you needed him, and how hard bringing up this baby without him would be, the urge to come clean getting stronger and stronger, but you kept quiet. You couldn't put such a burden on your best friend who couldn't possibly entertain the idea of having a child so early on in his life, after all, he had been the reason why many girls before you were in the hospital wing according to Madame Pomfrey. How many other girls struggled to tell him? Did they even go through with the pregnancy? You didn't know.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Fred asked softly, now sitting on the table, closing your charms book.

because you're my best friend and the baby inside of me is yours, you can't even remember what happened that night.

"I-I don't know" you sighed "I got scared, I thought you'd hate me."

"Why would I hate you? Y/N you're my best friend!"

Exactly, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm just your friend.

"My best friend is having a baby and I didn't even know!" Fred laughed, shaking his head, staring at your bump again.

Your baby, oh Freddie... if only you knew.

"Yeah..." you laughed it off "Sorry about that."

"Can you at least tell me who the father is?" Fred asked, swallowing hard, unsure whether or not he actually wanted to know.

It's you, Freddie, it's you...

"I can" you replied, "but I won't."

Fred tutted "Can you at least give me a clue?"

You sighed and nodded a clue won't hurt, "Okay, shoot."

"Do I know him?" Fred asked, getting heart palpitations.

"Yes," you replied "You know him really well."

"Is he my best friend or classmate, or something?" Fred asked quickly, his mouth going dry, his heart thumping, his ears burning, his heartbreaking into pieces.

"A bit of both" you replied.

Seeing Fred get so choked up and upset made you feel guilty. Why couldn't you just tell him? Spit it out and act as if worse things have happened between the both of you.

"Does..." Fred tried to swallow the enlarged lump in his throat "Does he know?"

Give it up, Y/N, stop playing with him, just tell him the truth.

You nodded your head "he knows I'm pregnant" you paused "but he doesn't know it's his."

"Is George the dad?" Fred asked.

You wanted to laugh, at times you wished the dad was George, but the two of them were so different, and you always preferred Fred.

"What makes you think that?" You asked, crossing your arms, staring into Fred's dull brown eyes.

Fred sighed "He knows you're pregnant but he never mentioned it to me, if he knew that baby was his... he would've told me, Y/N." He paused "The two of you got close just before you drifted from me."

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, if only I could tell you, make you understand.

"Well," you sighed, torturing yourself even more "I'm still not telling you."

"I wish you would," Fred mumbled, "because I would do anything to be him right now."

Your heart dropped again, sinking deeper into your tummy like an anchor into the ocean.

He wishes he was the dad... that must mean... he can't be? can he...

Fred leaned over to you, his gentle hand resting on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles into your skin, your scents engulfing one another, his nose brushing up against yours, and finally, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, his lips connected with yours.

Fireworks erupted between your lips, sparks flying in every direction, the feeling of him spooning you in bed after hooking up filled your head, your heart craving the intimacy that got you into this muddle in the first place.

Fred pulled away for a moment, pursing his lips and licking them, your cheeks went red, the two of you silent, staring at one another until your lips collided once more until Fred's lips attacked your neck, and the two of you exposed yourselves to one another.

This wasn't like the night you both shared together for the first time - for starters, the two of you were sober, and instead of being fueled by lust, love had taken over, steering the wheel and controlling the wand, the father of your baby now making love to you, showing you his vulnerabilities - allowing you to look through the window of his soul.

Fred's hands, fingers, mouth, his sex, all felt so incredible, making you feel above the clouds, loved and cared for, you didn't want him to pull out, to get dressed and disappear again, you wanted to be with him, forever.

Pulling out and quickly getting dressed, wiping away the beads of sweat from his forehead, Fred helped you put on your shirt and jeans, before his hand rested on your bump, his eyes focusing on it, pouring his heart and soul into the image of him being the father of that baby, something he wanted more than anything.

"I wish they were mine." Fred croaked, picking up his bag and leaving the library.

Guilt, pain, and regret flowed through your bloodstream, you felt queasy, your face went hot and tears pooled into your eyes, your vision going glassy, grabbing your book, you swallowed down the lump in your throat and left the library, running to your dorm room, collapsing on the bed, torn up to shreds.

"I'm so glad we've managed to get Y/N what she needed." Angelina smiled, carrying the shopping full of baby clothes, shoes, and toys.

"Me too" George smiled, unsure of what else to say, his mind constantly thinking about you and Fred.

Angelina could sense the tension, George wasn't usually this quiet in her company "Everything alright, George?" she asked "Is Fred okay too? He seemed a little upset earlier."

"Why do you ask?" George replied, growing concerned for his twin, thinking that perhaps staying to plan the business would have been the better option.

Angelina stared at her shoes "He just didn't seem so thrilled when I told him about the party-"

"You told him?!"

Shit! If he knows... does Angelina know he's the dad? Was she the one who told him?

"Well yeah?" Angelina replied, "He's her best friend, isn't he invited?"

Brilliant, this is just brilliant.

"No! He wasn't even aware she's pregnant!"

"George I'm sorry, I just assumed... why hasn't she told him?"

George paused, this wasn't his secret to spill, but he decided to do it anyway.

George pulled Angelina aside the footpath, sighing and taking a deep breath "because he's the father, and Y/N doesn't want him to know."

Angelina and George sprinted back to the castle, the feeling in George's stomach grew too strong to ignore and he knew that if he didn't speak to his brother, everything would fall apart. Angelina needed to find you, to tell you the mistake she made and promise to fix things, her heart racing, feeling guilty for any trouble she might have caused.

Angelina burst into the dorm room, you wiped away your tears and sat up in your bed, clutching onto your jumper.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell me what?"

"That Fred is the dad!"

You buried your head in your hands, pressing your palms against your closed eyes "because" you mumbled into them "I know you and Katie both fancy him, I didn't want our friendship to be ruined over him knocking me up."

Angelina sat on your bed next to you, wrapping her arm around you "Don't be silly, Y/N. Katie only had a tiny crush on him which is long gone, and I prefer George." she smiled.

You looked up at her and smiled back, blinking away the stars in your vision.

"You're the one who got Y/N knocked up then" Fred glared at his brother "The baby is yours, thought you deserved to know!"

George scrunched his eyes shut, shaking his head, gritting his teeth "Freddie, don't be stupid mate-"

"How could you do this to me?!" Fred yelled "To her!" Fred grabbed his trunk, packing away his clothes and books.

George stayed silent, staring at his broken brother, trying to speak but unable to find the words.

"You fucked the girl of my dreams behind my back, you've gotten her pregnant and I have to live with that!" Fred yelled again, slamming his trunk shut, now carrying it.

"Fred-"

"Fuck off, George!"Fred snapped "I can't trust you anymore."

Fred stormed out of the dorm room, out of the common room and down the halls, his throat sore, his eyes tear-filled, focussing on a safe place to rest his head. In front of him, a door enlarges from the bricks out of nowhere, he opened the door and walked inside, slamming the door behind him as he hid away in the room of requirement.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx @manuosorioh @cosmiccomicloverqueen @the-romanian-is-bae @fhhsposts @cavalinhox @purple-vodka-99 @simpforweasleys2 @dracoismybabey @statellitespidey @xuminghaosworld @michael-loves-chickens

[insomniacwritersblog]

the friendships between the five girls in murder most unladylike are really important and here's why

this will contain SPOILERS for all nine books in the mmu series, so read at your own risk

*cracks knuckles* i don't actually crack my knuckles, but this is probably gonna be long, so settle in

ever since once upon a crime came out i've been back on my mmu bullshit, and i was thinking about how good and important the friendships between daisy, hazel, kitty, beanie and lavinia are, and how much they all support each other, which is so important. here's why

kitty: i'm starting with kitty, because out of all of them, she has the most solid support unit in her family. she has a nice middle class life, with a nice family. her parents also seem to have a pretty solid and healthy relationship (in top marks for murder, we find out her mother is pregnant, and given that kitty and her sister are already in their teens, this indicates that their parents have a pretty healthy sexual relationship; obviously pregnancy can happen easy, but i hope you get the point). anyway. in jolly foul play, kitty's younger sister "runs away", which kitty is worried about given that her sister had been involving herself in the fallout of the murder and the gossip about the older pupils at the school. the rest of her friends help find her sister. i can't think of many other instances where the murder cases get personal for kitty, but when she needs her friends, they're there for her. another note, kitty is really protective and close with beanie, and has beanie stay with her during the christmas holidays while her parents are away because beanie's mother is ill (this is in the case of the missing bunbreak which is a short story - also! - kitty gets beanie a dictaphone because beanie isn't so good at writing stuff up)

beanie: out of all of them, beanie is the one that seems to value her friends the most, and this really shows. most obviously is in jolly foul play, when beanie knowingly puts herself between her friends and the girl they just discovered is the murderer. beanie. who originally has this nickname because she is physically small. she ends up in the school hospital afterwards, but she was able to protect her friends. beanie's friends are also very protective of her, probably because she is so loveable, which we see in top marks for murder. remember when her dad shows up by himself, and beanie is freaked out because she had recently seen a man strangle/attempting to strangle a woman in the woods? she goes running off, and her friends go after her and hug her and reassure her. good stuff.

lavinia: lavinia as a character is complicated, but here we go. she is very much the "gruff character with a heart of gold" character, but it feels pretty reasonable. in the very first paragraph of the first book, it is mentioned that lavinia comes from a "broken home" i.e. her parents are divorced. i think we find this out even before we find out hazel is chinese. so yeah, given that divorce was pretty uncommon in the 30s, escpecially among wealthier people, i think this affected lavinia pretty hard, and as a result of the fallout from her parents' marriage, she decided she didn't need anyone (this is my interpretation, take it or leave it, but i have proof. it's mentioned that lavinia has older brothers, so i think even when she was a child growing up, lavinia didn't have the experience of parents who loved her and each other, that their marriage was on the rocks for a while, and eventually they decided to just end with divorce, damn the repurcussions, damn the fact that it will be a talking point at their daughter's school). she also doesn't have a significant best friend, which must feel kind of lonely in her dorm because kitty and beanie are best friends, as are daisy and hazel. but she's not entirely a lone wolf, even if it seems like it at first. daisy and hazel's first case is finding lavinia's tie, because lavinia asked them for help. when daisy inducts lavinia into the detective society in the fourth book, it's because lavinia asked to be part of it, and even though she mocks daisy's solemn rituals, hazel notes that she seems pleased to be part of it. when daisy and hazel come back to school at the start of the book, lavinia makes a "we didn't really miss you" comment, but hazel can tell she doesn't mean it. hazel also notes that lavinia seems pleased when the others tell her and daisy about lavinia being good at tennis; this contrasts with the tennis exhibition scene later in the book when her father's fiancée is cheering her on. essentially, lavinia's rejection of parental figures means that she probably values her friends all the more, and the support they give her. a couple of instances of her being a good friend to the others that stick out as well: in jolly foul play, when kitty's sister binny is found, and binny says she is hungry, lavinia is the one to give her some chocolate. lavinia also decides to crash at kitty's during the christmas holidays rather than spend them with her father and his fiancée. this has got too long, let's move on.

daisy: a bit like lavinia, daisy can be a bit mean to/reject others, which i think comes down to her confidence and self-assurance. these are great personality traits, don't get me wrong, but there can be downsides to them. for example, in jolly foul play, daisy feels less self-assured about her friendship with hazel because hazel and alexander have started to write to each other after meeting on the orient express (i'd also point out that this is at a time when daisy probably needs support more than ever because she and her family are probably still dealing with the aftermath of the murder and murder trial, which was probably quite a big deal). at one point, hazel sees daisy making lists and writing notes about the murder, the things that hazel usually does during an investigation. we can put this rejection of friendship with hazel down to daisy's insecurity. even earlier in the series is arsenic for tea, where i can think of two significant moments. firstly, daisy and hazel see her mother secretly making out with a man that is not daisy's father. rough, which is why afterwards hazel comforts her. the second instance is when daisy and hazel overhear a conversation between the butler and daisy's father, and without complete context, it seems to confirm that daisy's father is the murderer. at first daisy won't acknowledge it, and hazel has to practically put the words in her mouth, which is a pretty tense and emotional moment. it's not really an argument, but hazel has to force her best friend to confront the fact that her father may have committed a murder, which again ties into her self-assurance. in the first book, hazel writes about the honourable daisy wells; popular, pretty, clever, the daughter of a lord. she is storybook perfect, but in the second book, we see that things aren't as perfect as they seem. daisy finds out her mother's infidelity, and later fears that the father she adores may be a murderer. her self-assurance about that everything in her life is golden begins to falter, and so she relies on herself and her friends to work through the murder case. daisy is also a good friend though, especially to hazel. yes, she can be mean and teasing sometimes, but ultimately she is a good friend. when hazel's grandfather dies in a spoonful of murder, the first thing we hear daisy say about it is "i guess i'm coming to hong kong then". hazel needed daisy and daisy is there for her. daisy comforts hazel through grief over her loss, jealousy about her new baby brother, and guilt about the subsequent kidnapping and murder that takes place. and in death sets sail? daisy saves the life of hazel's youngest sister may. literally, because may is maybe seven or eight, and probably can't swim. hazel and her family and everyone else is panicking, but daisy kind of just runs straight into the situation, never mind the danger, she has to save hazel's sister. and she does. also a couple of things to note about this scene, when daisy turns to look back just before she goes overboard, hazel wonders if it was because amina was watching, and daisy wanted to impress her. but hazel also hears daisy say her name just before she goes overboard. in that scene, through all the stress daisy was thinking about hazel, her friend, and saving her friend's little sister.

hazel: finally, we come to hazel. out of all of them, maybe even more than beanie, i would say that hazel values her friends the most. for the obvious reason, her family lives on another continent, and therefore it's important to have some strong connection with the people she does have near to her. at first it's just kind of necessity? when she first comes to deepdean, hazel is shy and no-one really talks to her, and she is pretty much just a sort of curiosity, very much the "other". it is after daisy watches hazel's failed experiment in fitting in with the other girls, and realises how she is clever and observant and puts on an act for others (which hazel also recognises in daisy), that daisy decides that they're going to be friends. it's also my theory that this then leads to kitty, beanie and lavinia befriending her a bit more. while they probably weren't unkind or r*cist to her, they probably let the "otherness" of hazel's ethnicity and nationality act as a barrier to properly getting to know her, which was probably exacerbated by the fact that hazel is quite introverted (compared to amina for example, who is very outgoing and lively, which meant that everyone at deepdean immediately loved her - there is something to be said about the fact that people probably didn't regard amina with the same amount of "otherness" because if they can have a asian pupil at their school, why not an african one?). hazel is also a kind person, which makes her a good friend to the others. near the end of death sets sail, she helps look for the cook's brooch which had been a gift from daisy, and later comforts kitty about not having a boyfriend. but hazel also relies on her friends, and they support her. when hazel's grandfather dies and her father wants her to come home, she insists on having daisy with her. kitty tells hazel about the fact that alexander is clearly pining for her. in the first book when everyone is discussing the teacher that has gone missing (because she's been murdered) beanie brings up a rumour that the teacher is "an agent for the East" then panics and apologises to hazel (something hazel notes that only beanie would think to do). there are other facets of hazel and her friendships, that i could explore, but i am tired and this has gone on long enough.

if you have reached the end, congratulations. hopefully you enjoyed this essay length ramble about female friendships in the murder most unladylike series