#however the same night they got married he froze to death while playing with the horses outside (i wasn't paying attention to him lmao :'D)

[drakonovisny]

why do my sims playthroughs always turn kinda fucked up :'D

[junedenim]

2006

beneath the boardwalk, part 4 (series masterlist)

505

warnings: fluff, angst, smut, sobbing, etc.

word count: 11.1k

In a boring fashion, Alex and I spent the winter much like winters' past. Time froze in that corner of our world and lifetimes existed between the drive from Wakefield to High Green. Charlton Brook was experiencing an ice age but we'd still drive out to as close as we could get without getting out of my car. 

Alex would be stuffed in several layers of clothing and his hair was always messy but always fell in the right place. We'd make out and I'd mess it up more and it felt like nothing else existed outside of it.

Some unknown song would play quietly in the background (one time "When the Sun Goes Down" played and I refused to let Alex turn it off and he refused to kiss me during it so we sat in silence in the car listening to it) and we'd occupied ourselves with kissing, talking, and playing cards. 

We began a tournament in Gin Rummy over my school recess and his touring break. Said tournament has continued since then. We never established a number we were playing to and so we have decided that the winner will be determined in death, however morbid that is. I had the lead that winter but over the summer Alex would overtake me. I seem to do best in winter while Al dominates in summer. 

"Are we boring?" I asked him.

"Hmm?"

"We've grown old and boring. We're playing Gin Rummy in my car at 11 AM."

He chuckled. "We've always been this way, Janie. We used to sit in a room and write in silence. It was glorified old married couple."

I wanted to ask him if he thought we'd be an old married couple, instead, I asked, "How do you think we'd be as an old married couple?"

He shrugged and discarded an ace. "I don't think we'd be boring. Maybe settled. But we'd always have something interesting. Even if music fails and you give up on writing—which I'd never allow—I can't imagine us not being the intelligent fun couple. Maybe I'd be boring but you never."

"With all my neuroses?"

"Of course," he over-enthusiastically said. "But you're too interesting and funny to be boring."

"Same to you."

"Even if I was, I'll be the old guy who sits in the corner and doesn't say anything. You'll have to do all the talking for me."

I laughed. "I'm fine with that." We shared a smile and I knew I'd love him forever, even if we crashed and burned, he'd always be my first love. "You know the thing you said about being intelligent?"

"Yeah?"

"Clearly you aren't." I scooped up his discarded ace and put down my ace three-of-a-kind and then placed my last card face down. With a smug look, I said, "Gin."

He threw his head back after watching the whole scene. "Fuck. I knew I shouldn't have done that. I knew—I knew you had to have had the other aces. Fuck."

*

One afternoon, the snow was thick and we deemed it too heavy to drive around in, which conveniently meant Alex would likely stay the night. In my room, Alex and I sat around in our routine of playing cards and listening to the radio. I had the fuzzy socks he got me for Christmas, which might seem like a cheap Christmas gift (it was) but back in our tour bus summer I had mentioned it to him and he had clearly noted it. 

I was shuffling the deck of cards and he was rubbing my feet after I insisted the foot rub would help them warm up. The radio was soft and for the whole morning, the house had been quiet, which should have been the warning alarm.

A loud crash rang from downstairs followed by my parents' loud yelling. I rolled my eyes and fell backward onto my rug. "There goes a peaceful afternoon," I said.

"Do you want to sneak out of here?" He asked. Alex had never witnessed my parents' arguments; they were generally further apart as I grew up because they decided it was best if they never spent any time around each other but when they did occur they were long-winded and brutal.

"Where? It's freezing and it's not like we can walk down through the front door with them yelling there."

"We could go out through your window."

I laughed. "And fall to our death?"

"We might be alright in the snow."

"No, let's just hide out here."

He stood up and turned up the radio. "It's gotta help out a little."

"Thanks."

He hummed along to the song and I giggled. "What an inappropriate song for this moment," I quipped.

He chuckled but shook his head. "Nah, I think it works for us. You know, 'Until the poets run out of rhymes' and all that."

"You're getting all soft on me." I flicked his nose, bashful under his heavy gaze.

"I've always been soft."

"You're gonna do your best to keep me satisfied?"

He jumped up, tackling me down onto the floor. I shrieked to the floor. If he didn't kiss me you would have thought we were wrestling. "Baby I'm Yours" fading in the background as a knock sounded on the door.

Alex rolled off and I muttered an annoyed, "Jesus."

I stood and opened my bedroom door where, thankfully, Stacey stood on the other side. "I need a fallout shelter here," she said. I widened the door. She stepped in and sat on the edge of my bed. "You guys playing cards? God, you're lame."

Alex chuckled. Stacey and he hadn't hung out much but had always gotten along and had a laugh with one another. "You want to play with us?"

She shrugged. "Sure." As I continued shuffling the cards she reamed us out more, saying things like, "If I had a boyfriend we'd be making out all the time."

"Maybe that's why you don't have a boyfriend," I replied. Alex laughed into his elbow not wanting to anger Stacey.

"No!" She insisted. "All the guys at my school are duds."

"You're 14, everyone is supposed to be duds at 14," I told her as I dealt out the cards.

She fought back, ever snippy and snarky. I have no clue where she learned it from... "You had a boyfriend at 14."

"I wish I didn't." Owen Stenison, blonde-haired, brown eyes, and a breath that tasted like tuna.

"You had a boyfriend at 14?" Alex questioned. We didn't often dive into past relationships, likely because I had a much longer list than him. He had two girlfriends before me, neither super serious.

"Yeah, and it was like the hundredth guy she had been with," Stacey mocked.

"Shut up," I bite back.

She held her hands up defensively. "I'm not shaming."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right."

"I'm jealous."

"Well, don't be, it wasn't very fun." Is it cheesy to say that I didn't know real love until Alex? Probably. So, I'll just say I hadn't ever had a proper relationship prior to Alex. I had never celebrated a Valentine's Day.

Stacey sighed, "Has to be more fun than being single."

"You're 14 this is the time to be single."

"Bullshit. That's hypocritical from someone in a relationship then and now."

"I wish I had waited."

"Load of shite."

I shrugged. "I don't know. It would've been nice for Alex to be my first boyfriend."

"How virgin pure of you. You're a secret prude."

Alex, watching the exchange from the sidelines, burst out laughing and I rolled my eyes. "Just pick up your cards."

*

The night before Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not was released, the band performed at The Leadmill. It was bittersweet, the end to a chapter of our lives that likely ended months ago but we knew things would be much different after that day. We'd also be separating yet again, which was no longer atypical.

I spent the concert with Alex's parents and while Stacey expressed a desire to be at the show, she elected to sleep over at a friend's house instead. In retrospect, it isn't shocking for me to consider the show with Penny and David as being fun but it was very unexpected at the time.

After the show when parents departed and drinks flowed, I found Alex outside the bar. He had a half-ashed cigarette in his hand and I questioned his sanity wearing only his hoodie in the Northern England January chill.

"Can I bum one?" I shouted down to him.

It took a moment for him to register it was me, a smile slowly spread across his face as I inched closer. "Depends. What do I get?"

I dug into his pocket, feeling his stomach through the cloth, and took the pack for myself. "My witty repartee."

"Well, in that case." He sparked his lighter and burned my end for me.

I leaned beside him on the wall. My head against the cold bricks. "What are you doing out here?"

He grinned down at his feet. "Cheesy to say I was waiting for you?"

I giggled with pleasure and shook my head. "I don't believe you." I blew my smoke out directly into his face.

Alex shook his head and pulled me into his, wrapping his arms around me and holding me so close I could have sworn we briefly had one body. My hands tucked under his jacket and my fingers fist in his shirt and he shivered from the chill of my hands.

"You want my jacket?" I joked.

He kissed my temple. "This tour is gonna suck without you."

"Liar."

"Well, I'll enjoy it." We both chuckled. "But it won't be the same."

"I should just quit school."

"You should," he facetiously agreed for a moment, looking down at me fondly. "No, you shouldn't do that because who am I going to brag about?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Brag about?"

"Yeah, I brag about you all the time."

I laughed. "It's not like I go to Oxford. What are you bragging about?"

He pulled back slightly to get a clearer look at me. "You have to stop undervaluing yourself so much. If you met yourself, you'd be your favourite person."

"You're my favourite person."

He gathered me up again, and kissed me, deepening it. It was messy, turned into brazen and shameless. I backed him against the wall, and the bass beat against his spine. 

*

At the end of February, the band played in London and attended the NME Awards. Alex brought me as his plus one. He wore an anorak over a long-sleeve blue shirt with jeans. I wore a black button-up with black jeans and black heeled boots. I didn't mean to come off as a gothy soul but I didn't have anything fancy and my mother has always told me black is classy. The rest of the band looked like they were dressed like they had to wait at the bus stop in the freezing cold for an hour. Everyone else was fancy-dressed compared to us as Alex would chastise in one of his speeches.

It was at Hammersmith Palais, a year before it was demolished. It was hard to get an appreciation for the building as everything was decked out in NME slogans and everyone was looking to get a piece of the band. For the first time, I was confronted with the question: "Are you his girlfriend?"

I swallowed my drink and nodded. I had a hard time wrapping my head around Alex no longer being my secret. In the coming months, this would grow into a bigger, uncontrollable thing where I would become forever known as "Alex Turner's girlfriend." In the beginning, there was pride in it that my boyfriend was successful and achieving height so long. Then, being referenced as that left me worried. I worried for my future where I would always be referred to in relation to him rather than an individual with a career. Later that night, the first paparazzi photo would be taken of us on the way to the after-party. I was nervous.

During the show, each time the band accepted their awards, totaling 3, we had progressively gotten drunker and drunker and drunker. It was free alcohol, who was gonna turn that down? Especially since the royalties check was still pending. Bob Geldof called Russell Brand a cunt, something that has only aged more gloriously. Ryan Jarman of The Cribs, who are from Wakefield, threw himself onto Kaiser Chiefs's table and had to have an ambulance called because he was bleeding profusely. 

Alex came and sat beside me after his last speech, in which he boasted that the band had no competition in the category of Best British Band. I called him "a cocky son of a bitch" and he kissed my cheek and got me another drink. We both got too drunk to remember the rest of it.

*

Alex convinced me to join them for the weekend in Paris where we saw none of Paris and I saw little of Alex. We talked very little. He was obsessively tired and I felt like a chosen accessory as he held my hand but made no move to involve me. 

I became annoyed with Alex as he napped and I sat by the window writing hate letters to him in my journal that he would never read. 

At night, I fought with Alex and he made little effort to engage in behavior with me. It enraged me more. I yelled about how he didn't care about me and he would blink for so long I thought he fell asleep. Then, he'd say, "Whatever, Janie. Nothing I say will change your mind."

It felt for the first time Alex was sick of me. I had tired him out and he was done trying to force something I would never allow him to change. I felt tired too. We were both exhausted. I slumped down on the bed, still red inside and out. I loved him so dearly and every move I made felt like the wrong one. I just wanted him around all the time and then the time he was exactly around I ruined it with shouting and dreaming up the fantastical things he did away from me.

I didn't know why I was so overcome with anger and I began to hate myself at night. I cried to Alex and he did his best to hold and comfort me but I think he was exhausted by the whole thing. I thought about going to therapy. Then, I woke in the morning and Alex was hogging the bathroom and I decided that I was right to be overwhelmingly angry. I decided I was right about a lot of things.

*

In March, I wandered around London for long spaces of time. Sometimes I was looking for something to do, but most of the time I was trying to pass the time. It was a form of meditation. I'd lie under trees in Regent's Park and count the leaves on each branch. My father had gifted me a red iPod Nano for Christmas and it was the first portable listening device I had other than my clunky portable CD player.

On these walks, I felt I was learning more about myself without thinking about myself. I lacked the ability to shut my brain off but I'd get so lost in the scenery and the music that I'd never think of how I was perceived lying in the grass pointing my finger up to the sky.

Walks calmed me during the day but it didn't often last into the evening. I didn't talk to Alex much. He was in America for most of March. I went clubbing with lasses from classes on weekends and smoked with Georgia and Robert on weekdays. 

Phone calls with Stacey were about the only thing that grounded me but they were of irregular occurrence. Alex wrote me an email halfway through the month that read:

Did MTV and Webster Hall. You'd love NY. I can picture you forcing me on walks through Central Park so I took one just for you. It would've been more fun with you but that's the case with everything. Didn't get to do much else so we'll have to come back. Whenever you want. See you in April.

I never responded to the email. It pissed me off too much because "whenever you want" wasn't the truth. I would never have him when I wanted and I wanted him all the time. I felt I might as well not have him at all. He signed off like I was some meaningless friend that he'd see the next time he was in town and I decided he might not want me at all either.

When April began I hadn't heard from Alex since the email. I tried to call him once but when that failed I decided it would be better for our relationship if I didn't reach out again. I would be mad either way, if he picked up I would be upset he didn't before and if he didn't I'd be convinced I'd never hear from him again. 

*

"I want to cut my hair," I told Alex. We stood outside Carling Academy. I smoked a cigarette and he watched me. I felt like a board was between us. We had only kissed once when we arrived and I didn't want to kiss him again, I only wanted to cry and I couldn't figure out why.

He had his hands in his pockets and he felt like snow to me. He floated down to me, soft on my skin, but cold to the touch, melting in my hands. He leaned his side against the wall and I suppose he was anxious about performing in twenty minutes but I didn't care much.

"I like your hair," Alex told me. His hair had grown longer and I thought he needed a haircut too because it looked like he had sideburns. He had a funny look to him, one that made him look like Alfalfa with a mad cowlick that wasn't intentional but he made no effort to tame it.

I took a puff and said, "I want to shave it all off."

He laughed. "You want to be Sinéad O'Connor." We avoided any serious topic and stayed on the mundane. I preferred that and we accepted that things would stay this way forever if we left it. Alex and I have always done well with the mundane. We didn't do too well with the serious.

I couldn't focus on him, so I smoked my cigarette instead and waited for him to say something. I was near the end of my smoke when he finally said something. "You know, we've got an EP coming out in about a week."

I refused to allow my face to show anything and stared at the floor because I knew he'd be able to see anything I felt when he looked into my eyes. "No, you didn't tell me."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. It's just a stupid EP."

Before I'd say something different but everything had changed within months. "I guess." I put out my smoke and we went inside. He was gone the next day and he might as well have never even existed. He was gone into dust, with the wind.

I listened to the EP under the trees and wondered who "Fiona" of "Cigarette Smoke" fame was before I figured it must have been me. Nothing Alex could do was right because he had once again landed in the dilemma of whoever Fiona was—a random girl or me—I would've been offended. I listened to "Despair in the Departure Lounge" and decided not to listen to the rest in public.

The last line "What's happened to me?" rang through my ears the whole way home and I have never forgotten that twisting feeling in my gut that it felt like it would take forever for me to escape. We lost ourselves in our own microcosms; I in London and in my thoughts; He on a tour bus and in his music. It felt like the point of no return that was being unacknowledged.

*

I feared I was going crazy during my last month of school and I stopped attending class other than to do my exams. I had enough sense for that. I spent my money on cigarettes and forgot to eat most days and still to this day I couldn't tell you the exact reason why. I was likely in some form of depression but it felt too crazy to be depressed. I felt manic most of the time and wondered if my mother felt like this and we all ignored her. I wondered if my mother hated herself like I hated myself and I wondered if my mother ever thought about me as much as I thought about her.

I spent hours smoking outside my dormitory window, which was technically destruction of property to my university and they'd have grounds to kick me out for it but they never caught on, and even if they did I think I was too checked out at that time to care.

I felt like I was taking handfuls of painkillers but I felt too crazy to take anything so I never understood why I felt tired all the time. Robert stopped supplying me with Adderall so I was possibly withdrawing from it but it lasted too long to be that. I didn't stop smoking weed, which likely was not a good thing but it helped me go to bed and I had fun doing weed and I didn't have fun not doing weed. 

I would write in my journal while smoking out the window and I followed the belief that being a tortured artist leads to good work. Instead, it increased my chances of lung cancer and made me hate writing. Toward the end of May, I stopped writing and considered dropping out of school but the school year had finished and I knew my father would murder me if I didn't graduate. 

Alex arrived in May to play another show. I was supposed to meet him at the venue at 3 and instead arrived at 6 with no warning. I can't remember why I showed up late but I can't lie. There was probably no good reason.

There was nonsensical chatter before the show and Alex put up with my cold behavior until the end of the night when we were alone at my place.

After we had sex, I lay in the crook of his neck and thought about suffocating myself. I pressed my head so far into him that he yelped and asked me, "What are you doing?"

I softened my digging and thought that Alex no longer knew me. I don't know what was happening to me in those months but I was mad and didn't understand why he didn't see what I was doing to myself in those months.

"You never asked me about summer," I mumbled into his neck.

He closed his eyes and I felt like it was 2003 and I was begging him to kiss me again. He was so far removed from me and I feared I'd never have him in my grasp again. I held him tightly as he sighed. "We never talked about it."

"We never talk."

"I'm sorry." But it didn't sound like he was. He just sounded done.

"It's okay." I was more angry with him than I had ever been but I swallowed it like a dry pill.

"Are you going on your family trip?"

I was short with him. "Aruba."

"That'll be nice. For you and Stacey. I can see you by the water, drinking Piña Coladas." It comforted me that Alex pictured pretty things when all I was able to see was my inescapable rage. 

I thought about hooking up with a boy on vacation. One I had never met but one that would bring me out of this self-sacrificing funk. I choked my own spit when I thought about Alex. I wondered if he was just my human Band-Aid for the time. The way Joanie had kept me safe through secondary school, Claire had mended me through our first year of college, and Alex licked my wounds and said things were alright and sang me stupid songs and played cards with my sister while fires raged below but like Claire and Joanie and every boy Band-Aid I had before he would heal the previous wound before leaving with a chunk of me for the next one to fix. I cried then and he held me but I wondered how much longer he'd put up with this.

"It'll be fine, Janie." His hand stroked down my spine and he was oblivious to the terrible thoughts I was having, thinking he was consoling me over my family instead of him. "When will you be back?"

I sat up and he delicately wiped my cheek but had missed most of the wetness. I wiped my whole hand under my eye to dry the area. "Some time at the end of June. I can't remember."

"That's perfect." He smiled. "You can come to T in the Park and we're doing Oxegen so we'll be back in Ireland. I know how much you loved Ireland."

His touch felt foul on me. "I'm not your groupie."

My face had turned sour. "What's wrong?" Alex asked.

I tried to turn him away, insisting, "Nothing. I'm making a joke."

But he knew me too well. "No, you're not."

"I know when I'm making a joke and I'm making a joke," I mouthed at him.

But he was done. I had beaten up against him too many times for him to console anymore. "Whatever, Janie."

I scowled. "Well, fuck you." I was a ticking time bomb in those days. The slightest fire and I was going to blow.

Alex was oblivious, confused by the whole thing. I should take partial blame. I never opened up anymore. But he never asked anymore. He couldn't be bothered to give a shit anymore. Too much else on his mind to care about what was going on in mine. I only cared about what was going on in his. It was unhealthy consumption. He snapped, "What's wrong? What did I do to piss you off? You're crying and I'm comforting you and you're making digs at me."

I ripped my touch away from him. "You take everything so personal."

"I take everything so personal!" He sat up, showing frustration in talking with his hands. "Who the fuck are you then?"

I just stared at him.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his hair off his forehead. "I don't know what you want me to do. You seem to have an issue with everything I do."

I didn't accept his indolence. "Maybe everything you do is an issue. You ever thought of that?"

And he ripped off from there. "Do you have some bitch flip on?"

I got out of bed naked and made no mind to get my clothes on. I was too furious for clothes. "Fuck you. Calling me a bitch. You're a fucking joke. You're the biggest fucking asshole. You don't give a shit. You just care about yourself."

"Calm down, Janie—"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Alright. Geez!"

I stood with my arms crossed over my boobs but made no move to cover my exposed cunt. I wanted him to see my naked body and for it to not be desirable. I wanted him to call me a cunt. I wanted him to do a lot of things. I wanted him to be here in the morning. Most of all, I wanted to be able to say things to him again.

We stood with our chest heaving and he stayed still in my bed and I stayed still, digging my left foot into my rug. "We'll be back for 2 weeks in July."

I didn't say anything and I wasn't sure if it was good enough but I got back into bed with him. Like everything else, we never talked about it.

*

I did end up sleeping with someone in Aruba. The worst part was I didn't regret it. I'm pretty sure Alex was doing the same thing on the road and sleeping with someone else based on a presumption that your boyfriend is doing the same is not a good method for a healthy relationship with either party, including yourself. But I didn't mainly do it off the presumption, I did it after those suggested piña coladas and a hot Dutch boy called me cute when I didn't feel it and it felt worth enough to sleep in his bed that night. I hadn't slept in Alex's bed in a long time.

In July, I went to Oxegen because Ireland is so beautiful and Alex is so beautiful and I didn't feel so beautiful so I hoped some of their beautiful would rub off and make me beautiful. I was just thinking about myself too much.

When Alex asked about Aruba I didn't mention the guy just like when I asked him about the tour he never mentioned a girl. If neither of us uttered it, it wouldn't be true.

My hair had grown longer. If I bent my head back I could feel it hit my butt. Alex's hair was longer and it curled out to the sides like Carole Brady. It felt like the coldest day of the year in July, pissing rain, and the sun nowhere in sight. We didn't do any exploring in Ireland like we did the year prior or in the years to come, not even the festival grounds as everything was too muddy, and walking around with Alex at festivals could be a tricky thing.

Before their set, we played Uno, a thing that has always calmed me, unlike regular card games where I feel pressed to bluff and prove how strategic I am. Uno got me laughing and I felt a little whole again even in all the rain, even if I felt my body was being torn limb for limb, I felt the torture was put on pause and the festival named Oxegen felt like the title fit.

After their set, where the rain stopped no one from chanting and moshing and I grew in amazement at the sight of all the people, we played more Uno. Halfway through the game, I tried to peek over at Alex's cards and he let me because he knew I wanted to win. He never placed the Draw 4 card down either. So, I kissed him that night. In a way that wasn't a greeting and wasn't an invitation for sex, just a loving kiss.

*

Of Alex's two weeks at home, I spent most of the time at his house. We ate dinner with his parents four times during the stay and spent hours on the riverbed at Charlton Dam. Alex would clump grass in his hand and dip his hands in the water to wipe off the dirt. I counted the leaves on the branches. I imagined a life where we had stayed in Yorkshire forever but I knew even in fantasy I wouldn't have been happy.

Alex brought his guitar one day and strummed on the strings until I fell asleep. When I woke he had fallen asleep beside me and I thought of living our lives in that grass forever like some version of Blue Lagoon without the cousin-fucking part. It seemed magical and looking over at him I was struck by his calmness. He had always been subdued but asleep he possessed a stillness that would steady oceans and stop the Earth from spinning on its axis but instead, he chose to sleep.

A little while later he woke up and strummed his guitar with an unknown tune and I wrote random sentences in my notebook. I wrote of the grass on my bare feet and the muttering Alex did under his breath and my mother's Bloody Marys. 

"I'm bored," he whined.

"You're frustrated." I could tell he was stuck on something, Alex rarely cited boredom.

He gestured to me, curling his fingers. "Gimme me something."

"Like what?"

"Gimme me one of your lines." He grabbed a hold of my notebook, something I usually shunned, but for some reason, I gave it over to him that day. "Her Bloody Mary must be lacking tabasco while she bites her lemon and thinks of when she used to be fun," he read aloud with a chuckle. "Scathing."

I took the notebook back. "Stop it," I warned him.

"No, I like it. I want more. Write me a song with me, Janie."

I rolled my eyes. "I suck at rhyming."

"Well, then you write and I'll rhyme."

So, I wrote crudely and crafted tales of lost adolescence that did not specifically pertain to my mother. I don't picture my mother and sex in the same sentence.

"Is that a mecca dauber or a betting pencil?" He burst into laughter, falling on his back, and rolling around. "Jesus, Janie, I'm stealing that."

"Yet another man taking credit for a woman's accomplishment."

"I'll give you the residuals."

"You will not be publishing this!" Fat chance. Nonetheless, at the time, he agreed to this.

The line is still the best thing I've ever written.

*

The band left for Australia and New Zealand at the end of July and Alex asked me if I would like to join but I turned him down for a reason I can't recall now. Many things happened in the summer of 2006 that I have blocked out and for the life of me, I can't remember. I used to hope that I would remember what happened but now I think my brain is doing me a favour. 

My maternal grandmother died the first week of August and I personally can't recall the trip to Sarasota, Florida, where she resided in her final years. Stacey has told me my mother cried the whole plane ride over in my arms and yelled at the flight attendant who tried to console her. My father flew in days later for the funeral and flew out the next day.

My mother wanted to remain in Sarasota for longer. She hadn't visited her mother in many years and the last time I saw my grandmother before her death I was 15. She had visited us in Wakefield, which she hated, and said it was shameful not to live in a metropolis like London. She spent her childhood working on farms and I heard loose stories of my grandfather being sent to a gulag. She didn't like the suburbs.

Then, she moved to Florida in her retirement. I had never been to Florida. 

I know my mother didn't like her mother very much but the reasons have never been told to me. I assume it's for many of the reasons I didn't get along with my mother but I also know my grandmother and mother experienced more tragedy in their lives than any human should ever endure. They were bonded for life through events that both never told and loved each other dearly but they didn't get along and they didn't like each other very much. I don't think they liked each other at all.

That week, we helped my mother and Aunt Daria clean out my grandmother's apartment. Harper helped the first couple of days before returning to England leaving most of the trip to be Stacy and me with my mother.

On the second Monday in August, my mother suddenly insisted we go to Miami. With little ability to resist our grieving mother, Stacey and I hopped into a car with my mother for 3 hours. I don't think my mother has ever been so calm. She laughed with us and told stories of her childhood and teenage years in Philadelphia and talked about her early life in Soviet Russia, something she never talked about. She asked Stacey about her friends and Stacey confessed to her worries about passing her A levels. My mother was comforting through it all, insisting that we would always be taken care of and Stacey, as the baby of the family, would always be her baby.

My mother then asked me about Alex. "How is he doing?"

"Fine." It was hard for me to figure out what to say. It was an unfamiliar thing to talk about anyone with my mother let alone my boyfriend. "Busy. The band's playing Sydney tomorrow. Or, I guess, today. I think they're 14 hours ahead of us."

My mother placed her palm on her chest and sighed, gushing, "God, I loved living in Sydney. I love all of Australia."

Stacey, unsafely unbuckled as we sped down I-75, leaned over the center console to ask my mother what she and I were both thinking, "When did you live in Australia?"

"Oh, for a short amount of time," she waxed sublimely. "Long before your father, must have been early 1973, I think. I remember coming from New York, which had been frozen over, and landing in sunny Sydney. We spent all day on the beach and drank for days with no care. " Does that mean she has care with her drinks now? "I learned how to surf. I was very adorable and darling. The Sydney Opera House opened while we were down there. Queen Elizabeth came down to open it and I remember watching from the crowd. The next year I was in London but I should have stayed longer. We should've."

"Who's we?" I asked.

She hesitated, I could tell. She gripped tightly onto the steering wheel and then sighed, releasing her hands. "My boyfriend at the time. He was this Australian hottie." I realized then that I had unintentionally written my mother's truth in "Fluorescent Adolescent." More worrisome, I feared I had written my future truth as thoughts of what-ifs regarding Alex were at an all-time high in spite of still being together. Although, it felt like we were barely together other than in writing.

"Mum!" Stacey whined. 

My mother ignored her plea. "I had my fun. I was very beloved. When we broke up I couldn't stand the city anymore. Then, I left for London with hopes of marrying into the Royal Family but alas I could've never been the people's princess."

"I didn't know you traveled much before dad."

She laughed. "That's all I did before your dad."

We stayed at a Holiday Inn and my mother never complained with the exception of the smell in the gym. We were quick to get out on the beach and my mother refused to go into the water but she sat in a chair and dipped her feet as she watched Stacey and I stumbled our way through the waves. Later, we all laid up on beach towels and gossiped about American celebrities and I thought of my mother on the beach in Sydney, which made me think of Alex lying on a beach towel in Sydney, which made me laugh.

Over dinner, for the first time in my life, I saw my mother reject a drink. Since I wasn't old enough to drink in the US, she said she wouldn't drink in the US, so instead we all drank pink lemonade.

That night, after Stacey went to bed, I snuck out to smoke a cigarette and call Alex. It would have been sometime around 2 PM there. He didn't pick up the first call so I decided to wait a few minutes before trying again.

My mother came out halfway through the cigarette and though I had never smoked in front of her, I'm sure she knew I did it. She asked for one and we sat in silence while she lit it. Stacey was no longer a buffer for us. 

She nodded toward my phone. "Calling Alex?"

"Yeah."

She exhaled the smoke and I felt the Miami humidity suffocating me. "The band must be doing pretty well if they're playing Australia."

"Yeah." 'Doing well' was a laughable statement but I didn't have much of an idea of what to say to my mother to explain how wrong this notion was.

"Are you two doing well?" She asked.

"Yeah." She stared at me and I could tell she wanted to know more and, for some reason, I felt implored to tell her like we were suddenly the Gilmore Girls or something. "As well as two 20-year-olds can do I suppose."

She chuckled and it felt funny for her to laugh at one of my jokes. "He seems fairly well-behaved for a 20-year-old boy."

"Yeah. He's great." She could tell what I was edging on and we sat in silence as she waited for me to spill. "But, he's so far, you know."

She shrugged. "That's what I like about your father. You'll be thankful for that kind of thing one day."

I felt a bitter and salty taste in my mouth. I don't like it when my mother talks this way.

She sighed. "I wish he'd stayed longer but I got my girls and that's good for me. If only Harper was here."

"What about Gary?"

My mother snorted. "Men are no fun in Miami. Gary would be shaming us for sunbathing." I laughed. It was an odd thing. "Are you mad Alex didn't come?"

I laughed at that idea too. "To Grandma's funeral, no. He's got a good excuse for not coming too."

"Does that annoy you?" My mother playing therapist of all people is laughable. I would have laughed at it then if she wasn't asking me what I wanted Alex to ask me.

I didn't dignify the question with an answer.

My mother tapped her cigarette on the bench's arm. "Why didn't you go with him this summer?" I stayed silent. "I would've let you go," she told me. 

"I know."

"I'm glad you were in Aruba. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," I muttered. We listened to the cars drive by and if you focused for long enough you could hear the ocean waves. They coerced me to speak. "He didn't ask me to join. I didn't want to be the whiny girlfriend."

"So you're pouting with me instead?"

I sat up straight. "I'm not pouting."

"All you do is pout!" It was only a matter of time until she outburst. Just like me.

I didn't want to yell back at her. I didn't want to yell. It was 15 after midnight.

She offered her best solution. "Why don't you join him in Sydney?"

I rolled my eyes. "By the time I get to Sydney, he'll be in another town."

"Then, go to that town. It's young love, Jane, you're supposed to want to be near them. Why do you think I moved to Sydney?"

I shook my head.

"You don't want to hang out with Stacey and me that much. I know you can't stand me."

I feel bad that I didn't fight her on that. I have always loved my mother, even if she wasn't always worthy of that love.

"I'll buy you the ticket, darling." Darling was one of her dramatic words, she'd stretch it out syllable by syllable d-ar-lin-ggggg. It always felt elegant coming from her lips. "Miami doesn't suit your pale complexion anyway."

I laughed, she laughed, and then she dropped me off at Miami International Airport and I got on a plane to LA, which then took me to Tokyo.

*

I arrived in Tokyo a day before the band. I was too tired to do anything so I stayed at a capsule hotel at Haneda Airport after my flight and fell asleep almost instantly. I've never been able to sleep on flights and I think I slept longer in that capsule hotel than any other sleep in my life.

The band was coming from Osaka and I contacted Alex about my arrival but he never responded. Part of me felt like I was intruding but I thought of my mother's words and the delusions I had of Alex showing up in Sarasota prevented me from any great fear.

Alex told me earlier about the hotel they were staying at because he was excited about the advertised toilets that could open upon entry, play music, and give massages. I was creeped out by the whole thing. How can a toilet give you a massage?

I probably should have enjoyed more of Tokyo instead of waiting for the band's arrival in the hotel lobby but I liked my greeting idea too much to ruin it by seeing Sensō-ji, even if that monetarily would've been the better decision. I read The Year of Magical Thinking, my first Didion and a depressing choice for the plane ride over, but it felt right to read after a funeral.

He was dressed in an Adidas muscle shirt and was holding his duffel bag. I felt like a stalker, watching him from a distant couch. I had regret over Alex being uninformed of my arrival because these surprises made me nervous and left me with flushed cheeks and a pounding heart. 

I approached the band while they were waiting for the elevator. "Can I have your autograph?" I was really trying to play up the fangirl thing but it came off more embarrassing than I wanted.

I remember Matt was frightened and yelled out "Fuck!" which got him scolded by their manager and dirty looks from hotel patrons. Nick, who had only been in the band for about a month, looked confused. Jamie was the only one who looked normal, scrunching up his nose, and saying something whack. Alex just looked at me as if I were a ghost. I could see the wheels turn in his head as he tried to process what was in front of him.

"What? How? Huh?" He stuttered.

He hugged and kissed me, albeit awkwardly as he continued to look for answers. I gave them a short synopsis as we rode the elevator up. When we reached the fifth floor, we splintered off into our rooms with smart toilets.

Alex was sweet and possessive in his touch on me as he dropped his duffle bag and took me in his arms instead. The whole thing felt too romantic for two people who shunned hopeless ideas of kissing in the rain or cuddling in front of a fireplace but it was a precious and comforting thing as we finished and lay in a pile of consolement as I talked of my grandmother and the puzzle that was (and is) my mother.

He told me my mother was right, Sydney was real beautiful, and that he wished to take me there. I told him I was jealous that he was seeing the world without me. I insisted it to be a joke but he and I both knew that I was green-eyed over this fact but we both didn't acknowledge the fact that we were in Tokyo, seeing none of it because we both enjoyed seeing each other more than any city.

After their performance and a shower to get rid of all that sweat, Alex shook his hair like a wet dog. "Eek!" I squealed. "When are you going to cut your hair? You look like you got a mop attached to your head?"

"You don't like it shaggy?" He asked me as he pet it down.

I pushed a piece of his damp hair behind his ear, admiring his profile as he stared ahead at the bathroom mirror. "You just have to style it correctly."

"Do you want to cut it?" He offered. His eyes were hopeful and his trust in me felt unwavering. It made me smile and bubbles of bliss spread in my gut. There was never any doubt in me caring for him, just like I had no doubt he would always do right by me.

"With what? Do you have scissors?"

"I have my Swiss Army knife." I laughed but he grabbed the tool and flipped the small-scale scissors out of it, placing it in my hand.

"I'm not going to get much done with it," I told him as I stood behind him, combing his hair with my fingers.

"That's fine. Less for you to mess up."

I hit his shoulder and he chuckled with delight. I snipped a few ends off but not enough to make a significant difference. His hair had dried by the time I gave up. I offered the cutter to Alex. He was meticulous, knowing I was particular about these things. I had wanted my hair much shorter for a long time but it had to wait longer because he only snipped the deadends and kissed my temple. The whole thing felt like a holy ritual and I felt slightly creepy for keeping a piece of hair from it but it was more for the preservation of memory than to clone Alex or create a voodoo doll. It joined my trunk of trinkets. 

"I have something to give you." Alex searched through his bag, pushing things out of the way.

I spotted the white text popping off the black shirt. "Oh, my god, Alex," I laughed.

"Shit," he cursed, picking up the shirt. He shook his head at his ruined surprise. "I was going to do this whole romantic thing."

His precarious position of kneeling on one knee, looking up at me with the shirt in his hands led to a perplexed me. "By proposing?"

"Oh." He chuckled and stood up straight. Handing me the shirt that read I LOVE YOU WILL U MARRY ME. It had been graffitied on a Park Hill estate in Sheffield in 2001. I have held a deep love for the romanticism spread on the concrete bridge—something about its contrasting nature. "I found it in a shop in Auckland of all places."

I held the shirt up, examined the design, and then hugged the shirt to my chest. "Thank you. I love it. I'll wear it tomorrow."

*

I was woken up by Alex going to the bathroom early in the morning. He tried to be quiet but stubbed his toe on the way there. I stayed silent and while he was behind the bathroom door, I turned the bedside lamp on a low light.

In my vernal imagination, I pictured myself as being desirable. I wondered if I could be like those figures I saw in movies. Now, it sounds more of a porno than it is, but I hoped to be picturesque as opposed to X-rated. The kind of sophisticated class reserved for paintings of naked French girls where the demurity of women was dashed in pearls and bathed in light, shining effulgently. 

When I lied on my side, I felt capable of conveying this. Maybe it was the shade of lampshade light or how dark the rest of the room was, or the boy I was with. I felt like a siren, a vixen, a seductress. Alex came out rustled with sleep but he had awoken when his eyes landed on me.

We were curled—two parentheses. It couldn't have been long after we had finished like after the sexual release we had to have the emotional one. I have chosen to look back on what follows as poetic, especially with a song like 505. I suppose if I had never seen Alex again, I might view it as tragic. 

"We're flying to Austria tomorrow," he told me.

His arm curled around my waist and my heartbeat heightened at the fact he would have physical contact with me, intimate contact with me. "Okay."

"Do you want to come with me?" 

"School starts soon." I could have managed it if I truly wanted to but the difference was I didn't want to anymore because I had a feeling Alex would never be able to do that for me. Be where I wanted him to be. I couldn't blame him but I couldn't acquit him either.

"You think you'll make it to Reading & Leeds?" I hated how desperately hopeful he sounded. A quiver rang in his voice like we both knew what way the train was heading.

"Probably not. I'd like to be settled."

"We'll be done touring soon."

"And then what?"

"I don't know. Another album."

"Another tour."

"Yeah." He waited for a beat. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." I turned into his chest, placed the crown on my head against the divet of his collarbone. "I don't know when I'll see you again and I don't like that."

"I don't either but we'll make it work," he assured. It just felt like a painful lie and I didn't want Alex to lie to me.

I cried, sobbed, wept into his chest and he held me as I shaked in a far more somber way than he had held me shaking earlier. For the first time, I said out loud, "I don't think I can."

I felt him swallow but he refused to say anything. When I looked up at him with blurry vision, his mouth was tightly closed and his eyes drifted far away. He was crying. I had never seen him cry before.

I wanted to care for him the way he cared for me. But I couldn't do that. It was easy then to know to let go. Alex didn't rebuff my admission with insistence that we could in fact make it work. He knew too.

We didn't say anything the rest of the night and when I left in the morning, we kissed and only said goodbye. It felt like too much to say anything else. I fear if he said something, a whisper of 'I love you,' I might have stayed and I knew, for us, I couldn't do that.

I left the shirt he gifted me in 505 and a week later, at the Lowlands Festival, he wore it onstage.

*

I stayed in a capsule hotel in Shinjuku City, near Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. I felt like an aimless body in the days I stayed there. It was a scene out of Lost in Translation. I visited temples and shrines watching, among the tourists, those who believed. I was desperate for that faith. It had been ripped from me so young I didn't know how to have that unshaken faith in something. Alex had brought parts of it out but I was codependent and untrusting and untrustworthy and young. Not much felt right and now everything else felt wrong.

For those few days, I regretted my decision. I walked around wishing Alex was with me but when I returned to my capsule in the evening, I realized he wouldn't have been there even without our ending. 

On my last day, I took a train to Kamakura and stood before Kamakura Daibutsu, a giant Buddha statue. I wasn't suddenly changed, I wasn't radicalized, I didn't feel liberated, I didn't feel suppressed, I wasn't different. But I liked the feeling of being dwarfed by the figure, 13.35 metres, 93 tonnes. I could be crushed by it. I could climb it. 

I went inside it where scrawlings of graffiti had been etched. Some nonsense, some prayers. It's been there since 1252. I wonder how far back some of those writings went. I had thought about being somewhere for so long, so long after my time. But I couldn't think of anything to write therefore I would not change a thing there. 

I flew home the following day. Only a piece of me is left in Japan.

*

The leaves were turning burgundy and gold when I saw Alex again. I entered my final year of university with questionable standings but a determination to finish and obtain a job that I truly loved. I had begun renting a flat with Georgia in Tower Hamlets across from the cemetery park. The park had been heavily neglected, bombed during World War II, and had been overgrown with plants. It was open 24 hours so I would walk through it early in the morning when I was restless.

I got a text from him when I was there one morning, stuffed under a tree in the fog. He wrote that the band was in town, recording their next album, and—if I wanted—he would like for me to join them for drinks.

I never doubted saying yes. Alex was my friend first and I wanted him always to be my friend. He gave me the olive branch, I must accept it. I brought Georgia to be safe.

Alex and I hugged when I arrived and I sat on the opposite side of the booth from him. Georgia and I shared chips with Katie Downes, Jamie's new girlfriend. She was (and is) one of the cutest people I have ever known. It was easy to feel jealous of her; she was gorgeous and a glamour model, who usually would've been described as a sex kitten bombshell femme fatale with being a frequent cover girl of lad magazines, but she wore her hair with the front pieces pinned back with butterfly clips and licked ketchup off her fingers. It was impossible not to find her adorable when she cackled at one of my jokes.

I wore an engulfing hoodie and sweatpants with my fingers itching for a cigarette but I knew if I went outside Alex would come out and we'd be alone. We were both pretty quiet the whole night and I found myself longing for him to say something, angry at him for texting me, dangling himself in front of me. But then again I was too scared to speak too. I watched him watch my hand fidget on the table. I thought of that cigarette we could share. I laughed at Matt's joke instead. I'm not sure if it was the right decision.

We would remain in the same cities for most of December. Their next album was recorded in London but we didn't see much of each other through my choice. I worried that my rejection of these hangouts would come off as if I didn't want to be friends. I reassured him once over text, saying, I just need time. Busy. Busy was a half-truth, school was piling up but emotionally I'm not sure I was ready to laugh with Alex. I hung out with Matt some. It was like I never knew Alex. If we had never talked, if I wasn't mistaken to be named Jeanie and wasn't a nicotine addict. It was comforting to be close with Matt again. It was terrifying to feel like I never knew Alex.

Alex and me and London was exactly what I wanted for years. I wondered if he chose to record down there to be with me. If he had daydreams of coming home to a shared flat where, for once, we could be together together. Part of me indulged in these fantasies late at night before falling asleep. Other than that I didn't allow myself to think of what-ifs. I wrote instead of Japan and of Kamakura Daibutsu. My professor, Madeline Critchley, worked for Granta, a literary magazine, and told me to submit it. A few weeks later, it was selected to be featured. It was my first paid published work.

The issue came out months later, in the spring, but it felt wrong for Alex not to read it. I felt like a betrayal that would get back to him. I emailed him the piece and told myself to expect nothing in return from him. He delivered:

The way you write makes me feel as if I'm in front of the colossal Buddha. It always moves me. You have etched your graffiti on me. It'll stay there long after we're gone.

*

I stayed in London for most of my winter recess but returned home for Christmas. I hadn't told my family that Alex and I weren't together. My parents never asked and I pacified Stacey saying he was away for the holiday season, even if I knew he was back home too. The 30-minute drive between us never felt longer.

Harper and Greg had returned home too with their spouses. On Christmas Eve, Stacey and I made sugar cookies and my mother displayed store-bought gingerbread men. We settled on watching Bridget Jones's Diary while eating these cookies. My mother and sister joined us because of their deep love of Colin Firth and my brother-in-law joined us because of his deep love for my sister. We sat below the Christmas tree which was my mother's pride and joy during Christmas. She'd drink eggnog while she wrapped garland around the tree and herself.

20 minutes into the film my phone buzzed with a text from Alex, who was outside. I knew I couldn't get away for long with this rare occasion of family time. I slipped on my winter boots, not even bothering to tie the shoelaces, and hoped my hoodie would suffice against the freeze outside. 

Alex was outside the front door in a bulky winter coat that I imagine his mother had dressed him in. "Hi." He was quiet. Everything outside my house felt quiet with a pure landscape of ice and snow and nobody daring to go outside this late on Christmas Eve. 

"Hi." I was quiet too.

"I have this—a little thing," he said, fiddling in his pocket before taking out a Christmas cracker. It was red with little snowflakes on it and my favourite holiday tradition. "I thought we'd pull it together."

"Well, you know me and my competitive nature," I mused. 

We sat on my porch bench, cleared of snow. He took one end and I took the other and with one big yank, it popped. I looked down and he had the bigger half, all the favours inside. "I win," he cheered.

I smiled through the awkwardness as he pulled the paper crown out and settled the rest back on the bench. He unraveled the pink paper, looked down at it, and placed it on my head. I giggled. "Are you too scared to wear pink?"

He shrugged. "Suits you more than me." He picked up his half of the cracker and handed it to me. "Show me what else I got."

I poured the remains out, reading the card first. "What do you call forty rabbits hopping backwards?"

"What?"

"A receding hareline." 

He snorted at the terrible joke. "Hopefully I'll be fine." He patted down his hair.

"You got it cut," I noted. It was cleaned up and the most tamed I had ever seen his hair. It was combed down in the front, stopping before his eyebrows, cut around his ears, and shiny.

"Yeah," he nodded, "got my local barber and all."

I chuckled and looked at the trinket in my hand: a mini deck of cards. I held it up to him and he asked, "Shall we play gin rummy with them?" 

I want January back. I want the car ride. I want the songs. I want those stupid guitar picks I made him for his birthday. I want to be the fun intelligent couple. I want it all back. It's mine. "Why'd you come here?" I asked.

He seemed confronted by this question like he didn't think I would have the nerve to ask it. I fidgeted and opened and closed his mouth several times, thinking of words to say. "I don't know. I missed you."

I only managed to say, "Okay."

"We're back on tour in February. It's more formal this time. A proper tour. We'll have breaks and downtime and—"

"Alex," I stopped him. My head was shaking, unable to process the thought. I was looking down at my hands, cold and chipped, looking for warmth. I thought of December last year when he gave me his gloves and had no qualms about being left with cold hands. Everything in me felt cold now and he made no effort to warm me and I couldn't blame him for it.

I could feel his eyes on me but I couldn't look at him. It was easy to picture his face, mouth downturned and eyes begging for relief. "It's not enough, is it?"

My voicebox died. I couldn't move myself to say anything despite thinking everything. 

"Do you want to go for a drive?" He asked me.

My head kept shaking. I didn't want to ruin that for us.

He laughed wetly. I could tell he was crying and the only way to prevent himself from caving in was to chortle. "Last time you rejected a car ride from me we didn't speak for months. I don't want to do that."

With my head still shaking and my eyes on my hands, I finally said, "We'll always be friends."

It was silent for a while and I began to sing "Silent Night" in my head to prevent myself from sobbing. Alex shifted, pulling away from me, he turned his head. I looked up to only see the back of it. He cleared his throat, tapped his foot, and in avoidance of my gaze said, "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

His eyes finally landed on mine. They were red and every bone in me was guilt-ridden. "Don't be. It's my fault for making things harder. I didn't mean to do it but I did and then I ignored it for too long."

"We both did things wrong. Young and stupid."

"I should've stayed in Tokyo."

"You couldn't have—"

"I could've. If I fought for it. It was over by that point anyway, right? Even if I had stayed and we saw that giant Buddha, things were too far gone?"

It hurt but I nodded.

He exhaled.

"I have to go," I announced. I wiped the remaining tears. "We're watching Bridget Jones's Diary."

Alex nodded. We stood up together and I walked him over to his car. He turned back with a smile, despite the blur in his eyes. "Have fun watching Hugh Grant," he teased. "I'll kill him if I have to."

I laughed but it wounded more than it amused. He got into his car and I watched him wrap his hands around the steering wheel. I walked back to my front door and looked back and his car was still there. I forced a smile to qualify me for Miss America and waved. He grinned, the best he could to not look like Cheshire Cat, and waved. Then, I went back inside and he drove away.

*

a/n: i don't have much to say. i'm a little mixed on this but i'll just leave it at that.

[jaesvelvet]

precious — park jeongwoo

warnings: lowercase,grammartical error,mention of death,nightmare

words: 1.8k words

pairing: jeongwoo + fem reader

it's nothing strange when jeongwoo stays with your family during holidays or school days. you guys' bonds are really strong, besides your parents are also best friends since high school so that's why both of you are close to each other.

it's usual summer breaks, jeongwoo hanging with you at your house, binging some netflix series. jeongwoo who is already bored watching the vampire diaries for thousand times, secretly glancing at his best friend.

he never thought of having a girl like you as his best friend (beside haruto of course) for him, you're perfect. sometimes he has a thought that he would never bored live in this world with you only. sounds creepy but that's how he loves his friendship with you.

turning 17 is a lot harder than jeongwoo ever imagine, he thought going through puberty is a lot easier. but trust him, it's not.

when he gets older, he realized that he saw you not as a best friend but as a girl he wants to date. he doesn't know when or why he fell for you but for sure he head over heels towards you.

"woo, stop looking at my pretty face"

"am i supposed to look at your damon then?" jeongwoo scoffed, flustrated you caught him looking at her

"um, yea?" you answer, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl and stuffed into her mouth, without breaking the glance from television

jeongwoo let out a small laugh, seeing you, really into that show although this is their thousands time watching it

"im tired of these vampires, i'm bored" he confesses, lean back on the beige couch, once again he glances at you hoping you would respond to him

"you can't get tired of this, we're gonna binge this show until we're old," you said

"old? are you gonna be old with me y/n?" jeongwoo asked

without looking at the brown-haired boy, you nodded

"how about your future husband? doesn't he be jealous when his wife binge her favorite show with her guy best friend?" jeongwoo asked, when he sure his feelings towards you, he can't help but think about their future, if they ended up with someone else, does their friendship will last long? or they're gonna be like a stranger?

jeongwoo's question finally made you pause the show and turns her back to jeongwoo, staring at his relaxed face

"what?"

"i don't want to be married, no-one can't stand if i'm having one of those ruthless nightmares" you frowned and pout at the same time, jeongwoo can't help but smile as a response, he just wanna pinch your soft cheeks.

you suffer from nightmares, although it happens occasionally, when it's happened, you will call jeongwoo, face-timing the sleepy boy until the next morning because you're too scared to return to sleep and spent the rest of the night, crying. and jeongwoo is the one and only who accompany you till the next morning no matter how tired he is.

he never sleeps when you having a nightmare, he will take care of you and calm you down, you will keep apologizing to jeongwoo and treat him with good food the next day, and of course, jeongwoo didn't mind at all, because he hates seeing someone he loves suffering.

"so do you want to get married to me then?" jeongwoo asked, if haruto is here, he will screaming at the top of his lungs cause jeongwoo finally got some brave to make his move.

you let out a big laugh

"nope, i want to marry with damon" you stick out your tongue at jeongwoo, making the boy tickles your body.

the house filled with your and jeongwoo's laughter, although you guys didn't notice you guys are really at your highest of happiness now.

+.*

it's 4 am and you once again woke up because of the nightmare. however, this nightmare felt different, it made you shaking so bad and out of breath, your body all covered with cold sweats, tears slowly falling to your cheeks.

quietly you sobbing in your blanket, although all of your nightmares seem real, this nightmare felt too overwhelmed for you— usually, you would call jeongwoo but today you didn't, it because your nightmare this time is about him.

you never dreamt about anyone else, never! but tonight you dreamt about jeongwoo, you dream that he is dead. his soul left his body because saving you. all the scenarios from your dream keep playing in your heads and you want to forget it but you can't.

and that time you realized,

you and jeongwoo fit together like a puzzle piece.

+.*

you didn't sleep after the long night. you calmed yourself by watching some of your and jeongwoo videos together. you cried when you realized you fell way too deep at jeongwoo. his laughs are loud and annoying, he's too talkative, and he's too clingy. for others, he may be annoying but not to you, you could listen to his laugh, he's never-ending story while he clinging onto you every day and you feel weird if he didn't do that for a day. he also always put others first before him, he always cares about the people he treasure. how can you not fall for this boy!?!?

you grabbed ices cube from the freezer and put it on both of your eyes to get rid of the swollen eyes. although you knew so well jeongwoo would notice your swollen eyes but it's never hurt to try.

minutes later you heard jeongwoo's voice across the living room, greeting your mother. quickly you threw the ices into the sink and wipe your wet eyes using your sleeve.

you grab your mom's morning coffee and greet jeongwoo who already enter the kitchen, smiling widely as he saw you.

"jeongwoo, your voice is so loud my ears hurt!" you said trying to act normal.

jeongwoo grins and side hug you, jeongwoo frowns when he saw you drink a coffee? you hate coffee, even the smell made you mad.

"you drank coffee y/n? are you a real y/n?" jeongwoo look at you with a suspicious look and hit your head

"you ghost, get out from y/n's body, she sleeps and watching the vampire diaries all days it's no hope for you to control her body" he hit your head once again

"ouch! ya, park jeongwoo!" you slap jeongwoo's chest and put down the mug on the counter.

"that was my mom," you said making jeongwoo mouthing an 'o'

you and jeongwoo are now in your study room, studying for your guys' upcoming exam after summer breaks end. the room is so quiet, and it made you nervous. whenever you with jeongwoo, you guys are never this silent. usually, jeongwoo would sing or throw some stupid jokes that could lighten the darkroom.

you glance at jeongwoo, you lowkey surprised seeing the male is so focused on his study, jeongwoo is indeed a smart boy but you never see jeongwoo study so seriously???

"woo, you okay?" you asked

jeongwoo drops his pencil and finally look at you

"why?"

"um, the silence is too loud, you know"

"yeah"

jeongwoo continues his study after the short answer. his short responses making you shocked. never in your life he treat you like this

"woo, are you okay?" you asked again

jeongwoo sighed and his eyes bore into you.

"your eyes swollen, i thought we have no secrets at all? but i think we have now" he said and crossed his arms.

he felt upset when you didn't tell him why you were crying. he saw your eyes red and swollen in the kitchen but he didn't wanna ask, usually, you're the one who would tell him from a to z, what happens.

you bowed your head, you bite your lips. how you're gonna tell jeongwoo about your dream? you start picking your nails, all of a sudden you remembered your dream crystal clear, you recalled how jeongwoo's body full of blood, exited from his chest and his face so pale, mouth shaking while try to said his last words

'be safe y/n'

you shriek when the image of jeongwoo's death felt too real for you. you cover both of your ears and your face buried down between your knee.

"y/n are you okay?" jeongwoo asked, panic, he goes to your back and rubs your back, whispering 'everything is okay. he shocked and clueless since this is his first time facing this kind of situation but he copied everything you do whenever he felt blue.

after a moment you finally raised your heads and look at jeongwoo who worriedly stare at you. your face pale, trying so hard to forget about your dream and the fact that your dream feels too real not to help you at all. you quickly hugged jeongwoo, you buried your face in his chest, crying, and begged him to not leave you. jeongwoo froze at your sudden action but he still ensures you that he would stay.

"i got a nightmare yesterday" you finally speak up, your face still buried deep in jeongwoo's chest, too scared to face him.

"what? y/n why you didn't—"

you make a little space between you and jeongwoo

"the dream is about you woo! i dreamt you died last night and it felt too real! i scared, the dream wouldn't go away so i cried all night, i– still clearly saw your dead body in my dream. it all felt too real woo"

jeongwoo face become soft and his unsettle towards you faded away, he hugs you tightly and kiss your head

"i won't go anywhere, those dreams are devil trying to hurt my precious best friend," he said, rubbing your back to calm you.

you let go of the hug and look at jeongwoo with shy looks

"because of that nightmare, i realized something"

"what?"

"i don't love damon anymore, i love you" you confess making jeongwoo giggles

"finally i beat damon! come here bestfr—"

"no woo! i love you as a boy, man, or whatever it is. i love you not as a friend!" you said

jeongwoo froze, his smile faded

"i,i— you what? y-you love me?" he asked again

you shyly nodded

jeongwoo froze

his brain still processing all of your words. it's kinda strange when your crush has the same feeling as you

"woo, you're making me scared. say something"

jeongwoo looks at your red and swollen face, he smiled at how he is so lucky to have this girl as his girl?

"i love you too, i love you a lot and it's hard to keep it since you're my best friend," he said making you smile and tears falling on your cheeks

"please stay tonight i'm still scared," you said

"of course, now come here precious girl" jeongwoo said, wrapped his hand around you and kiss your head.

[formenis]

Lines

Anon asked “Can you do one shot were before the Kira case L and reader were trying for a baby but after he takes the Kira case they agree to stop and after L meets Light reader finds out she is pregnant. L tries to send her away but she refuses and they end up fighting in front if the Task Force and that's how they find out L and reader are married and that she is pregnant “

pairing: L x fem!reader

warning: mention of food play

requested: yes

A/N: I apologise for the mistakes you will find in my stories but English is not my first language. Sorry ^^”

Y/A = your alias

Negative.

Negative.

Negative.

Y/N sighed placing the pregnancy test on the sink. It was the second one that week with that same result…Y/N started to believe either she or L were able to have a child.

After a little time off, she washed her face, now her S/C skin was flawless and smooth, and then the teeth. She brushed her H/C hair and took a moment to observe her own reflection: the exhaustion in her E/C eyes was clear (and her job wasn’t helping her) and even her skin lost a bit of colour. In moments like those Y/N wondered what someone as the greatest detective in the world found attractive in her.

Her negative thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

«Miss Y/N? It's Watari, I brought you breakfast» the kind voice of L's right-hand man showed a hint of concern and this made Y/N smile. Watari was always by her side, God blessed him.

«Thank you Watari» before leaving the bathroom she threw the pregnancy test in the bin and adjusted the PJs. Once outside the bathroom she saw Watari serving the breakfast in the cart: fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and a slice of white pudding; it was accompanied by tea and hot, buttered toast. To sum up: a typical British breakfast.

«Watari, you don’t have to spoil me like that…» Y/N told him already drooling.

«Miss Y/N, I believe you need some fresh air and relax. Please, enjoy me this afternoon at the shopping centre, I will need your precious advices» and then the old man placed a hot cup of tea on the cart with the rest of the breakfast.

It was not the first time Watari would make such an offer, he knew very well that being L's wife could be stressful. Yes, you heard right: Y/N L/N was L's wife. Despite the young age, both of them got married few years ago and they couldn’t be happier. Well, actually there was something that would make them happier: a child. Both L and Y/N wanted their own child despite the Wammy's House had many orphans.

«They're not orphans, Y/N. They are all adopted by me» L said few months after the marriage when the topic popped out in a conversation. He considered those children as his own, he loved being surrounded by their presence. Maybe because L was a bit childish himself.

However, despite their strong desire to have a kid on their own, it seemed nature didn’t agree with them.

But back to the present. Y/N was thinking about Watari's offer. If people considered L's life as secretive, his wife's one was twice as secretive but Y/N accepted it when she married him: she knew the risks and the conditions of being the greatest detective in the world's partner. So when Watari asked her to go with him at the shopping centre she seized the opportunity and said yes.

.

.

.

Disguise check. Sunglasses and hat? Check. F/C wig? Check. Y/N was ready to leave L's secret base with Watari.

«Are you ready Miss Y/N?»

«Of course, Watari. Let's go!~»

Unaware of Miss Y/N, Watari hadn’t to buy anything at the shopping centre. It was an excuse to let Y/N leave the base, a chance to get some fresh air. He pretended to buy some stuff for him: a new fedora and raincoat to be precise. He would need them for the new case L was going to take.

«Are you feeling better, Miss Y/A?»  

«Yeah! Thank you Watari! I really needed to leave that place» Y/N was smiling again, her skin had a more healthily colour and all the tiredness in her eyes was gone. Watari smiled too. «However…»

«What is it, Miss?»

«Today's test was negative again and…» Y/N sighed and checked the time on her phone.

«If I could dare an advice, Miss, things will come when you stop looking for them. So don't be sad, it only means it's not the right time…»

Y/N looked at him and smiled. «You're right, Watari»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

December 2003. L was going to take part at one of those boring ICPO meeting. An emergency Interpol meeting, with delegates from all around the world, held in order to discuss a rather strange situation that was occurring in Japan. They are convinced that something was happening but cannot be sure what it is.

L was going to take the floor but before that he called Y/N.

«Did you call me?» Y/N entered the private and empty room that was L's personal "office": a desk, a fancy armchair and many many computer screens at their highest brightness level.

«Yes. Please, come closer» L replied. When he was with her, his usual monotone voice would become warmer and gentler, something reserved to his wife only.

Y/N walked towards him, next to his armchair waiting for an explanation. «Y/N, this case seems quite interesting. I think sooner or later we have to move»

«We?» she was surprised. Was she really going to go with him? It would be the first time.

«Indeed. If you agree, obviously»

«Of course I agree. I'll help you as always, L»

He smiled and took her hand, kissing tenderly the knuckle. «So would you agree with me if I say that it's better stop trying to have a baby, my dear?»  

Y/N thought for a while, calculating every scenario. «Yes, you're right»

L smiled again, this time wider. «Thank you, my love»

Y/N smiled as well and L returned to his bright screens. Then she noticed his personal stash of sweets beside him and took the opportunity to steal a Bon Bon Cherry (A/N: they are shortbread cookies wrapped around a cherry and topped with cherry frosting).

«Y/N, those are mine»

She snorted but ate the sweet regardless of L's warning.

♰ LATER THAT NIGHT ♰

«Are you coming to bed, L?»

«Not now, Y/N»

She walked closer to him and hugged the detective from behind. «But I prepared some creme pat~»

At those words L froze. Those words meant one thing: food play. And L couldn’t renounce to food play. «How much?»

«Two bowls…one has chocolate too~» she whispered alluring to his ear. In one swift movement, L was already up with Y/N in his arms –bridal style- leading towards the bedroom.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Japan was so full of life, wherever you turned you would be surrounded by different cultures. And the people was so kind and polite, they had a very high respect of other costumes and traditions. Y/N loved everything about Japan, she wanted to visit each district of Tokyo: from Akihabara (Tokyo's Anime & Gadget Town), to Shinjuku (Culture Clash) and to Kichijoji (a glimpse of Japan’s rural life within the city). She even prepared a tour on foot for each of them.

But at this point a question could arise: what was Y/N's job? Everyone who had the opportunity to work with L knew that each of his "co-worker" had a specific task to fulfil. So what was Y/N's real task? To be L's shadowy wife? Oh no, nothing like that.

Her role was very important in the couple: she "filtered" the information from Watari to L, she represented L in many circumstances and helped him in solving cases. In other words, Y/N was a sort of "Watari 2.0".

Once the couple moved to Japan, they booked a room at the "Imperial Hotel", one of the fanciest hotel at Tokyo. Until the construction of the new Japanese HQ wouldn’t be complete, L and Y/N had to change often hotel for safety reasons. But Y/N didn’t mind, for her it was the chance to visit the city.

"Kira…eliminating those FBI agents has got to have put you on the defensive. What are thinking right now?" L thought while looking outside the window, in front of him a breathtaking view of Tokyo at night but he wasn’t focused on it.

«Ryuzaki, are you still awake?» Y/N entered the room, she was already wearing her F/C PJs.

He nodded and watched her walking closer through the reflection of the window. She hugged him from behind and observed the scenario outside the window.

«Tomorrow you'll meet your task-force, you have to sleep»  

«Maybe later, Y/A»

They stood there, their bodies were hugged together but their minds had different thoughts. Between them, a pleasant silence filled the air, the couple was enjoying each other presence.

However, Y/N had to break said silence. «Maybe I'm intolerant to soy sauce»  

«To soy sauce?» L asked concerned.

«Yes…today I ate the famous Kobe meat but not much after that I threw up»

L stood in silence, deep in thought for a while. In those minutes he was analysing the current situation: what if Kira found out Y/N's true identity? Would he use her to blackmail L? He was so focused on those things that he almost didn’t notice Y/N was leaving.

«I'm going to bed, dear» Y/N kissed his cheek on tiptoes. «Please, rest for a bit alright?»

L smiled at her taking her hands in his. «Good night, my love» and then he kissed first the knuckles and after her lips. From this point of view L was really romantic despite his external cold behaviour.

Y/N smiled at him and left the room, now L was alone again with a new thought in his mind: «Since when Y/N is intolerant to soy sauce?»

.

.

.

January 2004 could be sum up with three major events: Raye Penber and Naomi Misora's deaths and the surveillance at Yagami and Kitamura's households. In particular, L's suspects moved to the son of Soichiro Yagami, Light. Technically he had access to the police's private dossiers and database since his father was the Chief and most importantly…he was too perfect according to L.

«Y/A, I don’t want you to meet Light-kun»

«Do you really think he is Kira?»

«It's not an assumption but a matter-of-fact. Of course he is»

However, it was inevitable. Light noticed Y/N's presence at the hotel and he wanted to meet her. He had to. So he "pretended" to be lost and asked Y/N for directions.

«Excuse me, Miss. I think I'm lost, do you know where room 684 is?»

Y/N, with one of her disguise on, turned towards the teenager: in front of her a young man, standing at above average height with light-brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a school uniform with a bright red tie.

«Uhm no sorry…but if you follow the numeration on the doors it must be easier for you» and with that Y/N left an astonished yet angry Light Yagami in the middle of the hallway.

She hadn’t the time to think about him, she had a more important thing to do. Since December, she missed her period twice: at first she thought it was because of the sudden trip to Japan but it was already the second time it happened. Could it be…?

«Such a bad timing…» she said out loud once in her room. However, she couldn’t hide the nervousness: she agreed with L to stop trying to have a baby before the Kira case and if the test she bought was positive…what would be L's reaction?

«"Get rid of the cause and you get rid of the problem" they say…let's do this then»

.

.

.

The task-force was working quietly in L's room, sharing information and dossiers. However, that atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by someone that thrusted open the door.

«Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki! I have something important to tell you!» Y/N appeared in the room, tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face.

The entire task-force looked at her in awe and confusion. Who was that woman?

L turned towards her as well. Of course when she barged into the room he was shocked not only because of that sudden appearance but because now the task-force knew about her. There must be a really good reason for that.

He stood up and walked towards her. «Please Y/A, not now. You'll tell me later»

«No Ryuzaki, you need to hear this now!» she was so excited that she couldn’t be still.

«Y/A, it's not the right moment. You have to leave, please» L insisted trying to guide her towards the door.

«Ryuzaki stop! I'm your wife and you need to listen this!»

The task-force behind them stared in shock (and Aizawa almost spilled all his coffee). Did they hear right? Wife? What? Someone like L…married?!

«No Y/A, you have to stop. Your behaviour is highly unprofessional. Moreover, you don’t have the permission to stay here so please leave» L was becoming more and more bothered and it was clear by the tone of his voice, deep and fierce at the same time.

«Ryuzaki, I'm pregnant!»

 .

Silence.

 .

It was so loud that you could hear a pin falling down.

 .

Heavy and tense air was breathable, even the task-force noticed it. Y/N was there, with her heart in her throat, waiting for a reaction or a word from L. Fear was soon replaced by terror because L wasn’t saying anything.

«Are you…?»

Deducing what he was going to ask, Y/N showed him the test: two blue lines. At that sight L hugged her tightly, starting spinning together. Y/N burst in a resounding laugh, all fears and nervousness were gone.

«Oh my, Y/A. Finally! I knew it was not intolerance at soy sauce» he placed the forehead against her own and smiled widely.

They stood hugged together for a while and in the meantime the entire task-force was complimenting them about that news (especially Soichiro).

«We have to tell Watari too» L added shortly after the hug.

«Yes, he is going to become a grandpa after all»

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 15: Marry Me

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which they get married.

Warning: SMUT

Word count: 5k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Peach | Y/N)

A/N: Mary explains everything pretty clearly in the last scene. I hope it answers all of your questions :)

.

.

.

A letter from Calanthe arrived the day after the dance. Y/N opened it in the presence of Harry, Lance and Jo.

“What does she want?” Jo asked impatiently while Y/N read it at her desk.

“Why are you here?” Lance asked Jo. He was standing by the door with his sword drawn and rested by his side. He’d been more guarded since last night as was she and everyone else in the castle.

“Why can’t I be here? Is it because of my sex?” Jo retorted, for a second forgetting that Lance was a king. Y/N could not blame her. It must have been devastating for Jo to be the last of them to find out about Mary’s betrayal.

“No,” Harry told Jo as he leaned forward in his chair with his hands together and elbows on his knees. “It’s because you’re a maid.”

Jo shot him a pointed look. “I’m Her Majesty’s Lady-in-waiting.”

“A maid,” Lance chimed in.

Jo flicked her gaze between the two of them. “Are you two best friends now or do you just collectively hate me?”

Harry and Lance exchanged looks before turning back to Jo. “You really want us to answer that?” Lance jokingly asked.

“She’s here because I trust her,” Y/N said, rising behind her desk. Jo made a face at Lance, and he burst out laughing.

“What does she want?” Harry asked Y/N.

Y/N folded the letter and put it aside as she leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “She wants the witch to be returned to Theros.”

As expected, Jo was the most horrified at this news. The real reason Y/N had asked for Jo’s attendance was that she cared about Jo and would never want to make a decision that would hurt her friend.

“Let’s do that,” Harry said.

“No!” Jo and Lance objected at the same time.

Harry froze and blinked blankly at them. Y/N felt bad that he didn’t know the whole story. She couldn’t figure out how to let him in without having him carry all her heavy burdens. Harry would always do too much for her; she didn’t have the heart to drag him deeper into this.

Lance cleared his throat. “We need her. She may have insider information.”

“I don’t trust her. She set Y/N up for death,” Harry said, his face twisted with anger.

“Mary knew the forest wouldn’t harm Y/N,” Lance calmly told Harry while his eyes stayed fixed on Y/N. He knew no matter what they all said, it was up to her to decide Mary’s fate.

“I don’t want her to have Mary,” Y/N said.

Jo clutched her chest in relief. Lance sighed and looked over to Harry, who seemed the most confused.

Y/N took a deep breath. “Calanthe says she’ll be at the border in two days, and she wants me to be the person who brings her the witch.”

“She doesn’t only want the witch,” Harry said through clenched teeth. “It’s clearly a trap.”

“Don’t go, Y/N,” Jo pleaded, her face pale with fright.

Lance said nothing; the look he was giving Y/N had conveyed every single one of his thoughts. Y/N studied each of the three faces in front of her, and her heart stung a little. These people all knew what it was like to lose her. She didn’t want to put them through it again. However, she had to be pragmatic at this point and not let her feelings get in the way. Whatever was best for her kingdom would be best for her, even though it felt the complete opposite.

“I’ll go without Mary,” Y/N said, not making eye contact with anyone. “Just me alone.”

“That’s suicide,” Lance broke his silence.

“I have to agree with the King,” Harry mumbled. It sounded as though he was in pain to say that.

“Maybe one of you should go with her,” Jo told the men.

Y/N shook her head. “She only wants me and the witch. I’ll go alone.”

“She’ll be waiting for you with her army and they’ll take your head, Y/N,” Lance snapped, his grey eyes piercing at her.

Y/N looked up and met Harry’s intense gaze begging her not to do this.

“Maybe I can have an escort,” she sighed, “but Calanthe specifically says in this letter that my betrothed cannot be there with me.”

Harry and Lance exchanged looks. Though neither of them said anything, Y/N knew exactly what was on their minds. She hated that they were put in a situation where it only benefited her.

“She wants to negotiate now?” Jo asked, her voice fragile. Y/N assumed she was scared for both Y/N and Mary.

“Apparently, she wants to talk. And she says that she’ll be there alone.”

“And you trust her?” Harry asked, raising both eyebrows as he stood up straight. “You want to rely on the promise of the woman, who’s only life goal is to ruin your life and make you pay for your father’s mistakes?”

“I don’t trust her,” Y/N said. “I trust myself. I know she and the Monks don’t want me dead. At least not before the battle. She’s causing all this chaos to trigger us to strike. She sets us up, blames us for killing George Wallace and is most likely going to use that as an excuse to invade the North. And she’s ready. I know she is. But so are we. I just want to hear what she has to say. Two can play this game. And I’m not afraid of anyone. Certainly not Calanthe.”

“It’s up to you,” Lance sighed. “We can only tell you what we think is best, but we can’t tell you what to do.”

Y/N frowned. “I still want your support.”

“You have our support, Peach,” Harry said though he didn’t sound so confident. That was good enough for her. She would not be able to go through with it without his approval. Despite what he might think, his feelings mattered to her.

“Absolutely,” Jo said anxiously.

“Well, at least I still have this ring to know if you’ll survive,” Lance said, showing Mary’s ring on his left hand as Jo shot him a glare.

Y/N let out a laugh then mouthed, ‘Thank you,” to him.

Lance gave a shrug and pushed away from the door, stretching his limbs. “If that’s all, I’d like to leave. I’m going to check on Mary. Are you coming, Jo?”

Jo bit her lip, glancing at Y/N. “I don’t know if I should. I don’t want to look at her right now.”

“You can’t just avoid her forever,” Y/N said. “She’s been through some traumatic events. You might be able to cheer her up.”

Jo took some time to think before letting out an exasperated breath. “Fine.”

She wished Y/N goodnight and followed Lance out of the room, leaving Harry and Y/N alone with each other. Silence sank in. For a long moment, Harry and Y/N just stood quietly, stealing glances at each other.

Suddenly, Harry chuckled.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing.” He pressed his lips together. “Would you like me to go as well?”

“No. You can stay,” she said, returning the smile.

.

.

.

Harry told himself to not trouble Y/N anymore by talking about this, but he could not shake off the fact that she would keep running back towards danger. He’d almost lost her last night. He couldn’t risk letting it happen again.

As she turned her back and remained silent, he had trouble doing the same.

“You don’t have to go alone. I’ll go with you. She just didn’t want Lance to be there, and I–”

He stopped talking and pacing as soon as he noticed that Y/N hadn’t been listening. She was staring out of the window, silent as a ghost. At first, he thought she was just pondering over Calanthe’s letter. But then her shoulders began to shake.

“Peach?” he asked quietly, moving closer and taking her by the hand.

She was crying when he turned her around. He hadn’t seen her cry since that night on the cliff. In fact, she hadn’t shown any emotions since they’d returned to the castle. His heart dropped as he cupped her face while she sniffled, trying not to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered painfully.

“Why?”

“I’m c-crying...”

Harry pulled her to his chest, putting his arms tightly around her. “Why are you sorry for crying?”

“Because,” she sobbed, “because...I don’t think I’m supposed to…”

Those words were like knives going through Harry’s heart. He held her closer and whispered into her hair, “You don’t have to be strong when you’re with me.”

She said nothing, wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him in a tight hug. They hadn’t been intimate since they’d left the woods, and for a while, Harry had feared that the girl he loved had never made it out of that place. Now, seeing her break down right in his arms, Harry didn’t know if he should feel relieved or concerned.

“When I told you you were free to leave as soon as we made it back,” she said, her voice brittle, “I meant it...you can still leave this place.”

“Don’t you want me around anymore?”

Y/N pulled back, her contorted face made his heart ache. “I do. I’ll always need you. But...you didn’t sign up for this. You can still be happy. You told me you wanted to see the world. You can still have that life, find yourself a normal wife to love and cherish and spend the rest of your life with. This isn’t normal. I wish we could talk about the future and kids and a family and not death and war and uncertain fates.”

“Peach, stop–”

She shook her head fast and cradled his face in her hands. “It’s killing me, Harry. I don’t want to see you miserable, but I...I c-can’t make you happy anymore.”

“Hey, enough.” He grasped her wrists and gave her a shake just so she’d snap out of it.

Startled, she gawked at him with glassy round eyes. His fingers drifted to her face. Her breath caught at his tenderness.

“I want you,” he said. “All of you. It means I want this. I want your darkness. I want your pain. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re suffering alone. You don’t have to even love me back for me to love you, Peach. I’m not going to leave you just because you’re carrying more baggage than you could bear.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it away. She shut her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to get hurt again,” she said.

He smiled sadly. “Hey. You got stabbed. I didn’t. Lance didn’t either, and he was the one without a sword. So you don’t have to worry about either of us. Just yourself.”

Y/N snorted as she rubbed her nose onto her sleeve. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”

“I enjoy making you smile while you’re crying,” he said, lifting her chin. “That’s why you need me in your life. I don’t care what people expect from you, love. I just want to be there for you.”

Y/N’s lip quivered. She took his hands in both of hers and pressed them to her chest. He could feel her heart racing. “I’m sorry for pushing you away…”

He chuckled. “And I’m sorry for disobeying that order. I know you love me, Peach. You’re the only girl who would jump off a cliff for me.”

“You mean I’m the only crazy one?” she said, giggling through the tears.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve known from the start. I told you you were crazy when I saved you from the river.”

She nodded, her lips curled gently.

“That’s how it works,” he added and brushed their noses together. “I save you. You save me back. Life could be easier without you, but I love myself a little challenge.”

Y/N pursed her lips, her brows drawn together, and Harry was afraid he’d said something wrong. “What is it?”

She squeezed his fingers before bringing them to her lips. “Marry me.”

Harry’s mind went numb for a second. He blinked at her, astonished. “Are you insane? We can’t just–”

“No one has to know.”

At this point, he was convinced she was unwell. “Peach, that’s wrong. You’re betrothed to Lance.”

Y/N shook her head fast. “A marriage based on an alliance will never be true. Lance and I both know that.”

As hard as it was for Harry, he had to say it. “I don’t think it’s untrue for him, Peach. The way he looks at you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows sloped. She sucked in a breath and averted her thoughtful eyes.

“I will always care for Lance,” she admitted, “and I want him to be happy and safe. So in a way, you can say that...that I do love him. However, the love I have for him is based on the purpose of survival. I can count on him, and he can count on me. We protect each other and the people around us. That is all.” She turned back to Harry, her eyes glimmering in the candle glow. “What you and I have is so different. I’ve loved you since the day at the river. When there was no danger or enemy. Just us being kids. And I know a lot has changed since, and things can’t go back to the way it was, but I’ll always love you the same and always want to be with you.” She slid her hands down to lace her fingers with his. “So...will you marry me?”

Harry could not stop the beam from spreading across his face. He knew this was wrong, but it was all he wanted and more.

“We don’t have any witness,” he blurted, making her giggle.

“We do. Us.” She looked heavenward. “And my parents.” Harry supposed he must seem so silly because she broke into a laugh when she saw the look on his face. “Just say yes, please? I’m a very proud person. You won’t like it when my pride gets hurt.”

“Are you proposing or threatening me?”

Without breaking eye contact, she took his left hand, slid her gold ring off his finger and kissed it. “Depends on your answer,” she replied with a smirk.

He snorted. “You know I’d just say yes to anything you ask.”

“Good.” Her lips curled as she put the ring back on his finger. “It’s official. We’re husband and wife.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“I’m the Queen. It works when I say it does.”

Y/N didn’t wait for Harry to come up with a remark. She grabbed him by the collar and tugged him in, locking his mouth with her own. She kissed him wildly. It had been a long time since they’d kissed like this. Harry never wanted this to end. Every touch of her fingertips increased the hunger in him. But he wasn’t going to let passion cloud his judgements. He would not pressure her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly when they broke apart. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she breathed, drawing him back into her. “Do you?”

He nodded, kissing her slowly. “I always want you. I missed you.”

“Show me.”

She slipped both arms around his neck and held him tightly, returning his kisses with equal desire. He knew they were spiralling down the pit of disaster, yet he didn’t want to stop.

The next thing they knew, his shirt had come off and her dress was on the floor. He lay her down on the bed. His hands cupped her breasts as his thumbs played over her nipples. She trembled and moaned into his mouth as she ran her hands up his broad back.

Pausing, she gazed up at him. “You’re so handsome. I love you.”

“You love me for my looks?” He laughed lowly into her neck. “Ouch.”

“That’s just a bonus. I love you for you.”

Harry smiled into her skin. “I’m flattered.” His voice a husky whisper. “And you’re so beautiful, love.”

Drawing in a quick, hard breath, her body tightened instantly in response to the wetness of his tongue over her nipple. She arched up into his mouth as a way of begging him not to stop. Knowing she’d only let herself be so vulnerable and helpless when she was with him, Harry’s heart doubled its side. He lifted his head to kiss her mouth again. He wanted to take it slow, but he knew this was torture for both of them, and he was dying to feel her again.

She pressed tight against the whole long length of him. It was evident how wet and ready she was. He slipped his fingers down between them and felt her there. His jaw dropped, mouth hanging open. She snuggled closer, her skin damp and hot and smooth. As he began to move his finger inside her, he could feel her heart pounding and her breath caught. He suckled her breast, giving it his full attention. She cried and tightened her fingers in the curls behind his head. She squeezed her thighs around his hand as he slipped in two fingers. Then she started rocking her hips.

“Easy,” he chuckled as she aggressively tugged his trousers down. His breath caught when she wrapped her fingers around his hot and hard length. She gave it a few strokes while kissing his mouth.

“Want you now,” she begged.

He couldn’t manage a single word, only nodding like a fool as he wrapped his hand around hers then rubbed himself against her soft, wet folds. Slowly, he worked his way inside. “Gods,” he gasped. “You’re so tight, love. Is it painful?”

“No,” she replied, swallowing hard. “It feels good.”

Harry was spending every ounce of control he had going slow to not hurt her. “Just tell me,” he said through clenched teeth. “If it hurts too much, we’ll stop.”

Y/N’s hands tightened on his shoulders as she arched her back and pushed back at him. To his surprise, she laughed. “Why are you acting like it’s my first time?”

“I’m sorry for caring about you?” he said between harsh breaths, smiling and kissing her cheek. Then, he thrust back inside her, seating himself fully where he most wanted to be.

She cried out, from pleasure, not pain, cupped his face and pulled him down to kiss him again. Her legs locked around his waist, refusing to let him leave her body. The fire spread up his legs and so he moved his trembling hand between them and rubbed her hard and fast. She tightened on him until it hurt, but it was the kind of pain he wanted to feel every day. She cried again with raw pleasure wrenched from her chest as he wrapped her in his arms and pumped into her.

“I love you,” he gasped, squeezing her thighs and going faster. “I love you so much.”

She arched into him, crashed by the second wave of pleasure. He caught her screams with his lips. Stars exploded behind his eyelids, and he could hear her whimpering his name again and again.

They lay still, legs tangled in between the sheets until the sweat on their skin was cooled by the wind through the opened window. Harry groaned as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Y/N caught his wrist before he could get up. “Where are you going?”

“To close the window.”

“No. Stay. I’m not cold.”

“I am,” he chuckled but lay down anyway and snuggled up against her. She giggled and tugged the cover over them, pulling him close to her chest.

“You’re such a Southern boy.”

“Thank you, Ice Princess.”

“Hey, I’m a queen.”

Harry grinned up at her and lifted his head to kiss her on the lips. “Well, Your Majesty. I’m coming with you to the border.”

Y/N’s smile dimmed as soon as she heard. He assumed she was having flashbacks of the last time they’d travelled to the border. Only one of them had made it back.

“No, you’re not,” she said.

Harry shook his head. “Dead or alive, we stay together. I can’t risk losing you again.”

Y/N groaned as she rolled her eyes. Harry braced himself for another argument, hating that he’d ruined the moment in which they both pretended to be two lovers without titles and responsibilities.

Surprisingly, she combed her fingers through his hair and said,  “All right. We’ll go together.”

.

.

.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you, Your Majesty,” Mary told Lance, yet she was looking right at Jo. Jo hadn’t said a single word to her since last night. In fact, she had been expecting Jo to visit her after the attack. She’d heard that the Queen had been hurt, so Jo must have been by Her Majesty’s side this whole time. Mary knew it was Jo’s duty, yet she could not help but envy the Queen. Y/N had everyone caring about her.

“I know this is a tough time for all of us,” Lance said, standing with his hands behind his back. He looked relaxed at all times, which made Mary wonder how bad a situation must be for him to lose his composure. She wouldn’t want to find out, though. “My Queen received a letter from Calanthe today,” Lance went on. A line appeared between his dark brows. “She demands you to be returned to Theros.”

The news stopped Mary’s heart for a second. She couldn’t breathe. She clutched Lance’s wrist, causing him to flinch. “Please, don’t! Let me talk to the Queen!”

Lance regarded her with a sympathetic look as he gently pried her fingers off him. “Y/N will go alone,” he said. “That’s the difference between her and Calanthe. She’s not sacrificing innocent people for her own good.”

A sense of relief washed over Mary only to drown her in guilt. She was the way she was now because she’d blamed Y/N for all of her misery. Meanwhile, Y/N was protecting her. If she survived this somehow, she’d have to spend a lifetime regretting all her selfish mistakes.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Lance said, eyeing Jo before he spun on his heels and marched straight to the door.

The door was shut behind the King, and Mary turned to Jo, hoping she’d start the conversation. Jo idled for a long moment, just staring at her feet, probably trying to decide whether she should follow Lance or stay. Mary half wanted Jo to stay and talk to her, half wanted Jo to leave so she could pretend she and Jo were still on good terms.

Jo finally made up her mind. She padded across the room and sat down on the edge of Mary’s bed. Mary’s muscles were still sore from the chase last night, so she sat still with her back against the pillow when all she wanted to do was get closer to Jo.

“I know,” Jo broke the silence.

Mary’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“I know the truth. About why you came here.”

With Jo looking at her with that much disappointment, Mary wished she ceased to exist. She reached for Jo’s hand only to be pushed away.

“I can explain–”

“Please do,” Jo said, her face twisted in anger. “I’m so tired of seeing the people I care about get hurt because of you. Have you ever done anything right since you got here? You’ve been ruining lives. Y/N almost died last night, and she’s going to put herself in danger again to protect you.”

Mary swallowed hard as she dropped her head. “I-I’m sorry.”

Jo let go of a harsh breath. “If something bad happens to her, I will never forgive you. Because when I have to choose between Y/N and someone else, it’s always going to be her.”

Even though Mary knew it already, hearing it from Jo still hurt. “I understand,” Mary mumbled. Her hands started shaking, so she clutched the sheets. “I’m sorry for lying. I can tell you everything right now if it means I can gain back a bit of your trust.”

Jo frowned as she looked away. “Go on.”

Mary nodded, taking a deep breath. “At the beginning of time,” she began, “the four high courts didn’t exist. One hundred kingdoms were independent of one another. When Lokesh became King of Isolde, the Monks convinced him that he was the chosen one and it was his destiny to rule over one hundred kingdoms. And so Lokesh and his three brothers started invading the other kingdoms, until the rulers of what we called the low courts today had to give up their reigns to Isolde.

“However, with greed running in their blood, Lokesh’s brother did not want to hand full power to their brother. It was the beginning of the civil war that lasted over a year. Lokesh wanted to win so badly he sought consults from The Monks, and they helped him make a deal with the Gods to trade his firstborn for victory.

“He didn’t have a queen yet, but he was madly in love with a witch, who was a member of the society. The witch was with child and unaware of her lover’s cruel intentions. Lokesh’s army was winning when the Monk came to the witch’s house to collect the baby. Scared and heartbroken, she set her house on fire and ran away with her child. They both fell through the ice and died in the lake.”

“She was the witch in folklore,” Jo said when Mary paused.

Mary nodded. “Yes. And without the child, Lokesh couldn’t win. None of the brothers did. The one hundred kingdoms were then divided into four high courts. The Gods were angry at the brothers’ selfishness and cruelty, so they stopped the seasons from changing and let Isolde suffer from the cold all year round.

“Every day, Lokesh would come to the lake to mourn his lover and child. Then one day he never returned, and the crown was passed onto his cousin. Y/N was the only one who could find the lake because she shares the late king’s blood. But also because it was believed that the witch and the king had unfinished business and so they would keep meeting in different lifetimes as different people until they set things right.”

“So Harry and Y/N…”

“I thought it was Harry, too,” Mary said. “But then Lance showed up. And now I’m sure it’s Lance.”

Mary expected Jo to call her crazy or a liar, but what Jo said to her was, “Are they going to end up together?”

“Lance and Y/N?”

“Yes.”

Mary lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Every lifetime is different. But as far as I’m concerned, soulmates don’t have to be lovers. And not every kind of love is the same.”

Jo pondered over the given fact, her brows furrowed as she pinched her bottom lip between two fingers. “What does this mean for them?” she asked after a moment. “Will they have to sacrifice themselves?”

“Not...necessarily,” Mary said. “I know Y/N is the saviour in my sister’s prophecy. Lokesh started this mess, and she’s going to end it. We just don’t know how.”

“So why didn’t the Monks choose her instead of Calanthe?” Jo asked.

Mary laughed dryly. “My theory is that they know they cannot control Y/N. She’s a wild horse. Calanthe is a house cat. If Calanthe wins, and Y/N is dead. The Monks can take over one hundred kingdoms. But if Y/N wins, chances are nothing will change, or she’ll give independence back to the low courts, and the world will be as it was at the beginning.”

Jo raised both eyebrows, looking intrigued yet worried at the same time. “So Calanthe’s a puppet?” Mary nodded. “Does Y/N know about this?”

“Not yet. Do you think I should tell her?”

“Yes, before she’s going to meet Calanthe,” Jo said, rising from the bed and smoothing the wrinkles on her skirt. “Well, I must go now. Rest well.”

The words piled up on Mary’s tongue as she watched Jo make her way to the door.

She had to say it.

“Just so you know.” Jo stopped and slowly turned around. Mary took a steady breath. “I may not be strong like Y/N, but I care about you, and I’m not going to let anything or anyone hurt you.”

Jo tilted her head, her expression so unreadable that Mary didn’t know what she was expecting. Jo said nothing at all. She just left, shutting the door without making a sound.

[maybe-your-left]

Did Kylo pop your anal cherry and how did that go? Sounds like that would be Dr Ren's go to prescription for birth control

this ask... makes me think too much about all the Ren’s in my mind. what was the first anal experience like with them? What's their preferred birth control method?? 

these are the questions that will keep me up at night now, because of you anon. 

LETS EXPLORE THIS! 

SUPREME LEADER, COLLEGE KYLO (Happily Ever After AU), DOCTOR KYLO REN. 

Supreme Leader Ren: 

preferred birth control method? It's a First Order standard to have an injection when you’re employed. Unless you are married, it’s expected that all women are on it unless they want to be executed. 

Our first anal experience? I can see it in my mind's eye... 

“Get in there,” Ren growled, his voice hissing through the vocoder as he shoved you into the nearest room. You had been very bad today, coming out of your quarters, without permission. Tracking down whatever meeting Ren was in just because you were horny, prancing up to his stiff form at the head of the table. Every officer thought you were crazy, signing the dotted line on your death certificate. But you just came in anyway, snuggling into his lap and letting everyone proceed like you weren’t a purring kitten in the Supreme Leader's lap. 

“What did I do? you asked innocently, trying to hide a smile with your honeyed words. Ren would have none of it, wrenching your arm behind your back so he could guide your feet. Pinning you to the nearest wall, cold durasteel biting into the skin of your midsection as it was revealed. Ren smacked you on the ass, hard. 

“You know exactly what you did, you stupid little girl,” he smacked you again, yanking down your leggings after another blow. “You think you can just walk around and demand attention, just because I’ve been fucking your whore cunt senseless every night.” 

“Uh-huh,” you giggled, trailing off into a moan when Ren’s gloved hand smacked down on you again. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re-Ah-giving me attention!” 

Ren froze, his breathing heavy through the helmet as he thought about your thought. You were buzzing with excitement, imagining all the ways he was going to punish you for disobeying him. How rough he would thrust his cock inside your cunt, leaving you dripping with his cum. Fucking you so hard that you could barely move. 

“Hm,” Ren leaned against you, “I think I won’t fuck your cunt today. I don’t think it’ll hurt you enough.” 

You whined in protest, opening your mouth to beg but halted when you felt his middle finger plunge inside you. Stroking your walls with ease, sliding another finger in next to it, you moaned at the feeling. Pushing yourself down on his fingers as they scissored you apart, you could hear how wet you were. Ringing over both of your heavy breaths. 

Ren slid his fingers out of you, his pants coming undone soon after. You were so excited, ready to take your hard fuck and be sent home filled with his cum. But instead of a thick cock sliding into your cunt, Ren prodded your asshole with his fingers. Pressing into the muscle until it gave him access, you sucked in a harsh breath. 

“What are you-” 

“Shut up.” 

Ren worked in his two fingers, letting you stretch out around them. Scissoring like he did when he was going to fuck your cunt, you let out a loud moan when he fucked them deep into you, “Fuck me.” 

“I am,” Ren ripped his fingers out, popping the tip of his cock inside you before you closed up. Softly canting his hips forward, literally tearing you apart for him. You squirmed against the wall, both his hands now holding you still as you tried to get away from him. 

“Stop moving or it will hurt more,” he hissed in your ear. Running his right hand between the front of your legs to rub at your clit. You groaned at the distraction, body relaxing for him enough to thrust fully inside you. “Such a tight little hole, all for me.

You let out another moan as he thrust in and out of you, trying to spread your legs out to take more of him. Your leggings stopping you from doing so, “Ky, please, sloo-w doww-n!” 

Ren snapped into you, grinding his hips into your own, rocking deep inside you. He pulled out over and over, your ass stinging with every plunge. But, fuck it was good, the stretch, the burn, all accompanied with a leather finger circling your clit. 

You felt like you were seeing stars, tears streaming down your cheeks as you begged for him to stop, but also give you so much more. 

Ren yanked his cock out of you, fisting his cock as he hummed, “Look at you, all stretched out. What’s the matter? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” you cried, sliding down the wall in your tears. He let you crumble to the floor, bent over in half on the cold tile. Ren spanked you again, shoving his cock inside you from above. 

“When I send you home you won’t be able to sit down, and I expect you to be ready for me on your hands and knees when I’m back, already stretched out. I’m not fucking your cunt until you realize how bratty you’ve been today.” 

College Kylo Ren:

preferred birth control method? um, he's a college student, he has zero clue about birth control unless he's dating someone. his favorite is the ‘pull-out method’ which hasn’t failed him yet! 

however, he loves a good ole’ creampie, just for the hell of it. 

Our first anal experience? HO-HO-HO BOY. 

“Wrong hole!” you shrieked in pain, pushing Kylo off of you as hard as you could. His head knocking into the bunk of your roommate's bed in the process. 

“Shit,” Kylo grunted, “I’m sorry, I can’t fucking see.” 

“It’s okay,” you calmed down a little, wincing when he finally slid into you. His cock was still so big, it was so hard to get used to it. Every time he fucked you, no matter how long he took to try and prep you, he stretched you open so far. 

“Is that-fuck-better?” he mumbled into your hair, rocking his hips into yours a few times before pulling out. Slamming back into your slippery pussy, you raked your nails down his back. Trying to lock your ankles around his hips so he could fuck you more, “Yeah, much better. Fuck,” you squealed again, “We should’ve fucked in your car.” 

“It’s the same amount of room,” he chuckled, turning his face so he could kiss at your ear. Lapping it with soft licks before kissing your cheek, he moaned into your skin, “Would you-would you ever want to do that?” 

“Fuck in your car? We’ve done that before, don’t you remember that ticket we got?” 

“No, the other thing,” he pushed off you a bit, his arms plants under each of your armpits, “The ass stuff.” 

“Oh,” you blushed red, of course, you had thought about it. Ever since Kylo mentioned that he had done it with an old girlfriend, you thought how it would be to take him there. He told you how much he liked it, but she always complained about how much it hurt, so they didn’t do it often. You were very curious about it, you never played around with your backdoor with anyone. 

A couple of boys tried, apparently your ass was ‘too good to not lick’, but you swatted them away each time. 

“We don’t have to, if you aren’t ready,” Kylo stuttered, his face growing with worry as he watched your mind reel at the possibility, “I know you’ve never-” 

“Can, can we go slow?” 

Kylo’s eyes lit up, quickly pulling out of your pussy and planting his hands on your inner thighs. Spreading them out in front of him, getting just a glimpse of your pucker above the bedsheets, “Yeah-yes. I’ll go slow and you tell me if anything hurts, okay?” 

You nodded, “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Kylo pushed you up the bed, shuffling back on his knees as best he could in the confined space. Laying down on his stomach to he face to face with your pussy, you peered down at him nervously, “Can I eat your ass? I promise it’ll feel really good.” 

“Uh,” you took in his pleading eyes, tongue licking his lips as he waited. You thought about all the times he's eaten you out, how amazing his mouth and fingers felt. It couldn’t be that bad, “Yes.” 

Kylo didn’t wait for you to take it back, lifting your hips in the air and kissing at your pucker. His tongue lapping at it a few times, you watched as he moaned into you. Eye’s falling such in bliss as he tasted you, he brought his hands to your cheeks. Massaging them so you would relax more, “Let me in Baby.” 

You nodded once more, snaking a hand down to your pussy. Rubbing a few circles around your clit so you could relax, and soon it worked. Kylo was able to hook his tongue into your hole, just a little bit. You gasped at the sensation, Kylo moaned when you twitched, tonguing at you over and over. You felt one of his hands move to your hole, spreading your cheeks open a little more for him. 

“I’m gonna put a finger in you now, okay?” 

“Mm,” you bit your lip, biting off a moan as he slid his middle finger inside you. Lapping around the edges as he fucked you open, “Look at you, so hungry.” 

Kylo pushed in a second finger, curling them in and out of you while he sat up. Watching in awe as you opened up for him, the two of you locked eyes, smiling when he saw how desperate you were, “More?” 

“More! More. please Kylo!” 

With his free hand, he brought two fingers to your pussy, plunging in and scooping out some of your cum. You yelped at the stretch, instantly drunk on the feeling of being full in both holes. 

“You want my cock?” 

You heard him shuffle closer to you, the heat from his legs now against your cheeks. Kylo smacked his cock a few times on your pussy, slowly pulling his fingers from your ass. 

“You want it?” 

“Yessss” 

“Where?” 

You glared at him, watching as he brought the tip down to your stretched hole. 

“In my a-aH-Sss!” Kylo stuck his head in just as you spoke, pushing in inch by inch to take your cherry. His eyes fluttered shut, “Fuck-you’re so tight. Tighter than your fucking pussy.” 

He gave you shallow thrusts until he could fill you to the hilt, both of you panting from the stretch, “You ready for me to destroy your little asshole? For anyone else?” 

“Fuck me, Kylo.” 

DOCTOR KYLO REN M.D.: 

preferred birth control method? HES OLD OKAY, he doesn’t have time for pulling out, or condoms, or fucking around. All his partners need to tell him what kind of birth control they are on, and If they aren’t on any he won’t fuck them until they are. 

He hates IUDs though, he’s nicked his dick on the strings before and it was NOT fun. 

Our first anal experience? This man LIVES for anal. If you’ve never done it, he's going to break you into the drug that is anal sex. 

“What do you mean you’ve never done it?” 

“You don’t mean it it, right?” 

“Oh, thank god.” 

You watched as Ren paced across your living room, working himself through a fit of hysteria. Both of you were chatting about your experience, and you let it slip that there's something you’ve never done. He immediately jumped away from you, thinking you were a virgin which was insane because he had fucked you before, many times. 

“But, what do you mean?” 

“I’ve never had anal?” 

“Oh.” 

Ren awkwardly looked around your apartment, “Would-would you like to try it?” 

“Yes,” you blurted out, eyes widening when you said the word. Ren looked just as startled, waiting for you to take it back. But you didn't, and he lunged. Your lips locking together as he lifted you from the couch. Tongues wrestling for dominance in each other's mouths, you sucked on his, moaning at the taste. 

He threw you to your bed, shucking off his lab coat and other garments. Ren barked at you, “Strip, get on all fours. Stick your pretty ass over the edge for me.” 

You eagerly obeyed him, getting into position on the edge of the bed. Your feet dangling off as you spread your legs open, arching so he could see your ‘pretty ass’ ready for him. 

“Lube,” Ren barked again. 

“Nightstand.” 

He ripped it from the drawer, walking between your legs, you felt his cock land on your right cheek. A bead of precum drying on your skin, you hissed as the cold liquid was squirted between your cheeks. Ren shushed you, rubbing his left hand over the puddle, warming it against your sensitive skin. 

“Just relax, and breathe,” he cooed, pressing his middle finger into your hole. The lube opening you nicely, this wasn’t your first time playing back there. You had stuffed your ass full of silicone many times, but never a real cock. 

“I’ll make you feel so good, Angel.” 

 “Ugh,” you groaned, his fingers stretching you so well, the burn making your pussy drip with want. Pooling on the sheets between your legs, Ren slid his cock to your core, sliding inside you with ease. “Need to slick my cock up, so you can take it all.” 

Ren fucked another finger inside you while he thrust in your pussy. Your eyes already crossed at the pleasure, you were so full of him, you couldn’t imagine taking his cock in your ass. But the time was here, Ren pulled out of you. Your pussy clenching as he left. 

Instead of pulling his fingers out, Ren slid the tip right in with them. You yelped at the stretch, but he chuckled. Petting your outer thigh as he pressed in further, shallow thrusts into you. 

Ren fucked his fingers in with his cock, the stretch delicious, “I think you’ve been a lying slut, there's no way you haven’t had a cock in here.” 

“I-I’ve fucked my-yself!” 

“Good,” Ren took in a deep breath, “Then I don’t need to be gentle.” 

He ripped his fingers out, slamming his cock completely inside you. You shrieked at the impact, but he didn’t stop. Pulling out and pushing inside you, his hands dug into your hips. Fucking you harder than he’s ever fucked your pussy, clenching around him each time he bottomed out. 

“Slutty little asshole, you’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?” 

“Yes,” you cried, pushing your hips back into his, “I’ve been waiting for your monster cock!” 

“I’m gonna fill your ass up with cum every day now, do you understand?” 

He yanked on your hair, forcing you off your hands to bend in half. “There’s not going to be a day where you won’t be stuffed with my cum. And you’ll keep it there until I get home from work and do it all over again.” 

------

HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A CHANGE OF PANTIES 

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @desiraypark @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @emeraldsiren20 @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose  @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch

[sheadre]

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part One

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) has always been forced to fight for her life through schemes and lies, betrayal and cruelty. However, Jiang Wanyin who grew up in Yunmeng and lived a complicated life full of obstacles, did not have to play these games. Therefore, when he has to face the cruelty of noblemen and the royal family, he has to ask the Imperial Princess for help. Will they manage to dodge all the life threatening dangers the snake Zhu HuaJin and the Second Prince is throwing at them?

Word count: 2720

Warnings: violence (later in the story), mature, fluff

A/N: Hello everyone! So, this story is in the MDZS fandom like a few of my previous works. I will usually post the chapters way later here than I post them on my quotev account or my ao3 account so please check them out here:

https://www.quotev.com/491346452

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaeri/works

Lotus Pier was quiet now that things settled after Jin Guangyao got out of the picture. Wei Wuxian visited Yunmeng a few times but left just as quickly on Hanguang-Jun’s arm. Jiang Cheng found it ridiculous how Wei Wuxian acted like a whining wife but that is Wei Wuxian. Yanli once said that there is a thing called Aurora Borealis. A natural electrical phenomenon caused by the interaction of charged particles from the sun with atoms in the upper atmosphere. He had no idea how his shijie got her hands on the book she learnt it from but she said that the same thing could happen between two people. He always thought that something of the sort was rare to be witnessed let alone find it for yourself.

However, seeing Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, he realized what his shijie was talking about. Witnessing it – his shijie said – was rare and special. Jiang Cheng only felt envy. The elders were pestering him to find a suitable wife and marry quickly to ensure the heirs of their sect. Honestly, he had no want in marrying someone he never even met before. No one could really match him and moreover, who would want to marry him knowing about his… not so kind and righteous past. Things changed ever since Wei Wuxian came back and now, he regretted some of the things he’s done out of anger and want for revenge.

He cursed his thoughts for wandering so far during a nighthunt. The woods around them cast them in their dark shadows and the leaves hid the starry night sky from their eyes. Their was a cold humidity in the air as they walked, crunching the fallen dried leaves under his boots as he walked. He needed to focus, Jin Ling was with him after all, who would show the kid how to do things right if he didn’t? Not that Jin Ling was not pleading with him to accompany him. Even if Jin Ling was a sect leader, he needed to learn a lot of things and who else would aid him if not his uncle. Jiang Cheng never told the kid that he was proud of him but he thought he didn’t need to. The kid was self-assured without him praising him.

There was a roar suddenly coming from ahead stopping him and Jin Ling in their tracks. His body froze in place and listened carefully for any other sound. He knew they in disadvantage in the darkness and lighting up fire would possibly endanger his nephew.

“Uncle, it’s ahead of us!” the kid said with a hushed tone, warning in his eyes and readied himself for attack. However, before they could move, the song of an erhu interrupted the quiet of the night. It seemed like the time has stopped around them. Even the wind seemed to stop. Everything fell into a dead silence. The sound was beautiful yet terrifying. It had an alluring tone meanwhile anyone would shudder by the notes. Jiang Wanyin carefully walked forward in search of the cultivator who played. The foliage was crunching under his feet as he walked carefully, one step after the other. His heart was beating loudly in his ears as he approached the opening in the line of trees ahead. The resentful energy was so thick he could cut it with his sword. As he led his nephew out of the forest onto a clearing, his eyes widened.

In the middle of the field a woman was playing the erhu, her long hair flowing in the wind, her robes indicating her connection to nobility. Jiang Wanyin never saw her before and by the patterns, she was a member of the royal family. The monster he was chasing with his nephew slowly fell apart by itself. It was a monster that fabricated itself from different corpses. He was on the road trying to catch it around the town where people reported seeing it. The commoners of course were frightened to death by only the sight of it even from a far. The woman stood up and with the motion of her hand the erhu flew back into its holder which she strapped onto herself. She stopped in her tracks and turned to them, her eyes flashing with crimson red before it returned to a natural (e/c) eye color. Her lips pulled into a smile one that people wouldn’t be able to tell if it was kind or sinister.

“Jiang sect leader, Jin sect leader” she bowed to them in respect with a small smile playing on her lips. Her voice was melodic and Jiang Cheng couldn’t compare another woman to her beauty. He had no idea how she knew their names and if she was a member of the royal family, she was definitely not acting according to it. If she was a princess, she should’ve not addressed them first but wait for them to pay their respect. He narrowed his eyes as he raised a hand in front of Jin Ling to push him back behind himself. Jiang Wanyin couldn’t let his guard down now, this woman could be dangerous.

“Who are you?!” Jin Ling spoke up with his eyebrows furrowed yet his cheeks blushed. The woman chuckled and walked up to them. Her movements were graceful like a goddess’. Her (e/c) eyes never left the two of them and her smile held something strange. It was not threatening nor was it scary but it was definitely off-putting. Jiang Cheng felt her eyes roaming his form and he felt a blush forming on his cheeks. He couldn’t decide if it was from how inappropriately this woman was checking him out or from the notion of being checked out.

“I am Zhu Ran’En” she replied with a melodic voice. It was like a dangerously alluring spell drawing men so they would run into their demise. “Nice to meet you.”

“Zhu Ran’En?” Jin Ling gaped in surprise making her chuckle again.

“You might’ve heard about me” Ran’En shook her head a little like she was disappointed. Of course they knew the name especially after the official announcement of the Imperial Princess’ execution for her crimes. But if she was executed, how could she be standing in front of them? Jiang Wanyin narrowed his eyes at her while waited for her to continue. “Made up, evil-minded, biased rumors I bet…” A small pause as she sighed sadly before she bowed again and continued: “If you excuse me, I have to get to Xutong. It was nice meeting you, please excuse me.”

Ran’En straightened up and smiled at Jiang Wanyin gently before turning around and leaving them in the middle of the clearing. Jiang Cheng felt like he met her somewhere before. It didn’t make sense as he never stepped foot anywhere near the capital let alone the Imperial Palace. However, the feeling was strong even while he was making his way out of the forest with his nephew.

Later ~

The weather was nice but in the early hours of the day, fog fell down on the town. It was not too cold outside but people could barely see to walk around for long. That is why the inn she was sitting in was packed completely. Men were talking with boisterous laughter, others were telling each other stories, drinking to their hearts’ contents. Witnessing such simple life made her feel curious. She always wished she could live somewhere peaceful instead of being a princess and now she was here, sitting in an inn, drinking tea in the sea of commoners. It was truly fascinating.

She was aware that her existence was no longer a secret now that Jiang Wanyin found her. Zhu Ran’En tried to keep her existence and whereabouts a secret. Her ways of cultivation were frowned upon after all, yet she had no other choice but to use resentful energy. She never had a golden core no matter how hard she tried. Trying to learn cultivation from just books was difficult especially with the eunuchs and maids scolding her younger self how she was not acting like a proper lady of court. She had no need for it because as an imperial princess, she never had to defend herself. A few months ago, the lowest ranked imperial princess, Zhu Hua Jin and the second prince, Zhu Li Qin worked hard to make the emperor believe them. That is why Zhu Ran’En, the elder daughter of Zhu Zhi Qi – who was the third prince – lost the favor of the emperor and was sent into exile.

She sat in the inn sipping on her tea when two known faces walked in. She felt the shift of the resentful energy no matter how low it was in the room. Her eyes snapped to the new comers just to see the Yiling Patriarch staring back at her. Her lips pulled into a smirk as an invitation for the pair. Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian – known as Mo Xuanyu in his current life – looked around in search for a seat but most tables were full. She had to admit that both of them were good looking. Zhu Ran’En smiled at the black clothed young man and stretched out her arm motioning towards the untaken seats by her table.

“Ah, come and sit, gentlemen” she smiled gently. She quickly waved a waiter over to clean the table for the two cultivators. “I was about to finish here. Feel free to sit.”

Zhu Ran’En stood up and bowed to them while she heard Hanguang-Jun murmur a quiet ‘thank you’ before she straightened up and left them alone. It was better to not linger around for too long. She had no idea if Wei Wuxian could tell that she was a fellow demonic cultivator but she didn’t need him to notice. At least for now. Leaving the inn was easy even though she felt the lingering feeling of someone watching her. A smirk was playing on her lips as she turned down an alley and disappeared from sight.

She spent many days and nights roaming the cities in her exile, collecting information and plotting in the dark. She needed to get back to the imperial palace to protect her younger sister, Zhu WuXi. Ran’En wondered how she was doing these days. WuXi was always bouncing around the palace halls, admiring the beauty of nature and perfected her dance moves. Ran’En was always envious of her younger sister’s delicateness, how lady-like her sister was compared to her. Many people said her younger sister took after their mother and it was true in every possible way. She was just as naïve and good hearted, assuming the best in everyone without a doubt. This made her an easy target for Ran’En’s opponents.

Suddenly, a dog came running towards her while barking loudly, making Ran’En’s smirk pull wider on her beautiful face. Her eyes darkened as she looked at the dog which stopped a few feet away from her in fear. It whined in fear at the sight of her expression she was wearing. Soon, the young Jin sect leader came after the dog with eyebrows drawn together.

“You!” he cried out angrily. The youngster didn’t recognize her right away because she was wearing a simple attire from cheap material. It was easy to hide yourself if you just changed clothes and make-up – she thought. “You scared Fairy!”

Ran’En laughed out loud and lifted her sheathed sword to stop Zidian wrapping around her body, so instead it curled around her sheathed sword. She could hear Jiang Wanyin coming from behind since she rounded the corner.

“Sect leaders” she chuckled. “Pleasure to meet you again in such a short time.”

“Who are you?” Jiang Wanyin yelled angrily. She lifted an eyebrow curiously turning to the man. “Zhu Ran’En, the imperial princess died two months ago.”

“Died?!” she cackled as she was now facing Jiang Wanyin. Her lips pulled into a sneer. “They still lie even when they beat me… I am still here…”

“You’re using resentful energy for cultivation” Jiang Cheng replied but now he took a step back from the woman.

Zhu Ran’En pulled out a seal and showed it to him. The small stone badge was carefully carved, the characters ‘princess’ emerged from the flat surface of the stone. She watched his eyes widen before she hid her last reminder of her title back into her sleeve. To her surprise Zidian loosened and let go of her sword.

“Sect leader Jiang, I advise you to stay out of my business… these are royal matters” she said coldly before she jumped up onto the roof of the building and disappeared from their sight.

She was supposed to be locked up in Qi mansion waiting for the emperor to call her back one day. However, she had no time to wait for so long if she wanted to save her little sister from the evil clutches of her uncle and her cousin.

Jiang Cheng’s PoV.

A few months back, Jiang Wanyin noticed Imperial guards appearing in the town and other towns nearby. They were asking people about a woman, the drawing they were showing to the citizens was drawn with attention. The sect leader now knew who the woman was. The imperial princess was a traitor after she got caught in the crime of money laundering. Everyone was informed that she was executed publicly in the capital, however, if she was executed, why were imperial guards asking around about her?

People were spreading rumors about her but if someone would really think over everything, with the princess’ righteous past, it would be easy to smell something was fishy about this whole thing. And Jiang Wanyin’s nose was similar to a hound. After meeting the imperial princess in real life, he could tell that there was more than what meets the eye and he was keen on finding out the truth. That is how he found himself in front of Qi mansion in Yangsu.

The building was looking like a prison or a robust castle with the dark brown and black colors and stone walls. Thick stone pillars held the roof while there were no windows visible from the front entrance. The wall stretching around the mansion could be around six cun* wide and thirty chi* high.

*[1 cun (寸)= 5 cm; 1 chi 尺 = 0,5 meters]

The doors were closed but there were no guards in front of the mansion and when Jiang Cheng pushed on the wings of the door they easily opened up giving him a view of the insides of the mansion. He could hear some folks talk about how no one entered the mansion since the princess’ arrival to spend her exile in there. He walked inside but when he was far enough inside, the doors closed behind him and as much as he tried, he couldn’t open them again.

“Jiang sect leader… It is a pleasure to meet you in my humble abode” came the familiar melodic voice of the princess. Jiang Wanyin turned around in a blur, his eyes spitting lightning as Zedian unfurled from his hand ready to strike. The princess stood nonchalantly in front of him, in the usual embroidered rich hanfu all the royal family members wore, her figure petite yet something dark was encircling her form as the smile stretched on her beautiful face. Jiang Cheng had to admit that the woman was beautiful, very intimidating yet beautiful. She tilted her head to the side and turned sideways, lifting her arm inviting him further inside. “Would you like to have tea? Lili just arrived back from the market with a new batch of herbs and teas.”

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng hissed angrily at the woman who’s features looked like they were frozen into stone. She turned back to him fully, her lips ever so slowly returned into a neutral line before she spoke up.

“If you’re here, you already know exactly what awaits you once you dig yourself into my case” Zhu Ran’En said coldly. “Imperial guards already noticed you entering my mansion, you got involved in imperial affairs. Now come, let’s have some tea.”

The sect leader narrowed his eyes at her but followed her inside silently.

To be continued…

[mycatshuman]

Fright Night But Make it Gay

Chapter 2 : Human Is Too Pretty It's Illegal

First/Previous | Next | More

Pairings: Prinxiety, Intrological, Moceit

Warnings: panic attacks, let me know if I missed any

🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻

Virgil had existed for a long time. Existed. Not lived. He wasn't alive. But he also wasn't necessarily dead either. He just kind of was. And his being had been in existence for a while. So there really wasn't a lot that surprised him anymore. He had been all around the world. More than twice. He had experienced nearly everything the world had to offer. It's cultures, environments, it's people. He had a few lovers and acquaintances here and there, but for the most part, he was alone. All on his own. 

Along with being not quite dead or alive, Virgil was also immortal. Humans called what he was many things, the most simple definition was a vampire. Because of this, he had to move often to keep suspicion off of him. He didn't want any unwanted attention. He just wasn't that kind of person. 

Luckily, as the world progressed into the 21st Century and touch screen phones came into existence, people became more eqngrossed in their phones and less and less concerned themselves with the business of their neighbors. It made it a lot easier for Virgil to live in a place without people noticing his lack of aging. Of course there was the occasional Karen who couldn't learn how to mind their own business but for the most part, Virgil was able to live comfortably in one place for more than five years. Lessing moving was good for him. He wasn't all too comfortable with things changing all the time. 

As of late, existence for Virgil had become kind of boring. Things didn't really cchange.it was too much of the same things day in and day out.  Sure there were small differences from day to day but things had become kind of dull. He had been alone for a while, deciding to take a break from people and isolate himself for a few years on top of a mountain. But now, Virgil actually found himself missing a little adventure. Interacting with people online was nice but sometimes he craved a cuddle. Was that too much to ask? 

So, he decided it was time to enter the physical human world again. Virgil  could never have guessed that the adventure he was so craving would come in the form of a hot as hell theater human living next door to his newest house. 

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

Virgil randomly picked an area on the globe for him to move to before picking another random area on a map of that area. He repeated these steps until he had a nice little college town. After that, he worked on renting some storage and a hotel room in the town until he was able to find a suitable home in the market. He almost considered going through college again until deciding it was not for him. He was only just starting to fully immerse himself on the public again, he needed time to readjust. Maybe in a year or so he would be ready. 

Surprisingly, it didn't take Virgil long to find a suitable house that he could move into. It was a nice old Victorian house. And it was relatively close to the college so if he did ultimately decide that he would go in for another degree, it wouldn't be a long commute for him. He quickly purchased the house and set up a date for the move. 

Virgil moved into his new home on a stormy weekend in early September. It was in a relatively small neighborhood near the college he had been looking at. He had played for a moving company to move his things from the storage unit he had rented and into his new house. He did feel a little  bad for making the movers work in rain for the better part of the day but he knew that if he moved on a sunny day, he would forget to reapply sunscreen every hour and he didn't know how to explain to people he was supervising that he was a vampire and burned easily.  He also wasn't really in the mood to get a severe sunburn anytime soon. But he had paid them fairly well and bought them pizza for their drive, so he only hoped that made up for moving things in the rain.  

As they drove away, he was able to truly appreciate his new home. I think I'm going to like it here. 

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

It had only been a few days since he moved into his home. Unlike normal people, he didn't spend any time unpacking anything aside from the essentials. He just sat. Moving took a lot out of him. Even if he wasn't the one moving everything, it still took its toll on him. Talking to strangers, having them move his things, the anxiety with just that alone would wear out his social battery for a day. But the worst part of the entire moving process was the adjustment. Virgil had to take two whole days just getting used to the noises and movements of his new home and neighbors. He had to actively adjust to the new environment otherwise he would be woken up because of some noise that scared the hell out of him and threw him into a panic attack only to find out that it was just somebody opening their mailbox or something. (Virgil had learned his lesson from the last time it happened.)

But by the end of the first two days, Virgil was comfortable enough to begin unpacking and organizing. And by the time a week had passed, Virgil could say he had settled into the environment nicely. He was comfortable and things seemed to be going well, no one had come to bother him. There wasn't a mob outside gunning for his head. Things were good. 

Then it happened. 

Virgil was just bringing in some blood bags from the vamp market, minding his own business when he suddenly heard someone screaming about a vampire next door. Immediately, Virgil dropped his cargo and slammed his backdoor shut before pushing himself flat against the wall. He froze in fear as he heard the yelling again. It sounded from behind him. Oh my Selene! Did they see me?!?! Did they see the bags?!?! Are they coming for me?! No! No! No! 

Whoever had yelled, however, did not come banging on his door with a torch and pitchfork. Virgil listened intently and picked up on faint, tired sounding voices as someone told whoever had yelled that it was just a dream and to go to sleep. 

Virgil let out a sigh. He wasn't completely in the clear. He still didn't know if they actually saw him or not. But he also wasn't in immediate danger either. He leaned down slowly to pick up his box of blood bags so he could put them away. He would be on high alert for the next month. At least until he was sure that it was indeed just a dream. Although, he had to recognize that the supposed dream was oddly specific. He couldn't just blame it on coincidence.  That could cost him greatly. 

He also couldn't help but wonder how his neighbor would react if they found out he was an actual vampire. The thought terrified him. Images of horrible deaths that could be inflicted on him flashed rapidly through his head. If only he knew how opposite the reaction would be to what his anxiety riddled brain told him would happen. 

-----------

The next morning, Virgil went about his business while keeping an ear on his neighbors house. He faintly heard them talking about vampires again. Most of them didn't believe the other guy. (Thankfully) But then Virgil heard the guy say that the vampire was going to bite him and then they were going to get married. Virgil froze. What the fuck? 

Virgil got lost in his thoughts after that only to startled out of it when he heard a knock at the door. Virgil frowned and moved to the door and peeked out only to nearly have a heart attack. Oh no! He's hot! Slowly, he worked up an ounce of courage and opened the door. "Yes?" He asked quietly. 

"Um, Hello. I'm Roman Belmonte and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood with some homemade cookies."

Virgil eyed Roman suspiciously. "Mm." Roman learned forward a little and Virgil shrunk back a little. 

"Oh, who am I kidding," Roman exclaimed. "These aren't homemade cookies, they're just store-bought." A chuckle. "I was just trying to impress you, I caught a glimpse of you when you moved in and well, what can i say, you're gorgeous." And then he had the audacity to flash Virgil a flirtatious smile. 

On the inside, Virgil was shouting "No! Stop! I'm already gay!" But on the outside,  Virgil somehow kept his composure. He snorted. "I don't know, I mean you're hot as hell but then I found out that you didn't even make me homemade cookies and I don't know if I'm willing to date a guy who won't even put in the effort to make homemade cookies. What, are your kisses gonna be store bought too?" Virgil opened the door more and motioned for Roman to come in. 

Roman's jaw dropped. Score one for Virgil! Then he licked his lips. "A date? I don't remember mentioning anything about a date...but if you're offering."

Screw you and your handsome face! Virgil snorted. "Princey, Princey, Princey, so naive," He said, in an effort to keep his composure. "You're going to have to do more than flirt with me to get a date with me."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?" 

Virgil grinned. "Sure, pretty boy." 

"Be prepared to go on a date with me," Roman said with a grin.  Virgil rolled his eyes as Roman handed him the cookies. "I know they're just store bought but they're still good."

Virgil watched as the other turned to leave and frowned. "Wait." He waited until Roman was facing him again. "You don't even want to know my name?" He asked. "That's going into the cons." He was only teasing. And the flush that spread across Roman's face was worth it. 

"I-well-uh, what's your name?"

Virgil smirked. "Virgil. Good luck in that challenge, Princey." He watched Roman leave with a smirk before closing the door and burying his face in the cookies and let out a high pitched squeal. "Oh my Selene! How did I do that?!?!?"

Virgil leaned back and slid down the back of his front door. He sighed somewhat dreamily. "I have never, in all my years upon this earth, been flirted with like that." Virgil stared at the boxes scattered around the foyer. "Wow," he breathed. Long had he forgotten about the fact that his next door neighbor suspected he was a vampire. He was too busy in his gay panic. He had been flirted with. It was going to take him a bit to recover from that being the gay mess that he is. Little did he know the other was in the same boat. 

----------

Virgil stared at his phone in utter horror. "What…Roman are you there?" He already knew he wasn't. He had heard the line go dead. What's going on? What is Roman's family doing? It took Virgil a few more seconds for things to fully register. What if they had found out what Virgil was!?!? Virgil jumped up and quickly tried to figure out where Roman was. As soon as he figured out, he was out the door. 

Only to come back in and get his car keys. It was daylight out and he couldn't very well run without risking getting spotted. Plus, he was too worried about his boyfriend to put sunscreen on. Virgil quickly climbed into his car, a nice '67 Chevy Impala, and started the engine and set his GPS to Roman's location. He was really lucky that Remus had forgotten to check to see if Roman's location was on. 

"Don't worry, Ro. I'm coming. I'm your Prince Charming this time." 

🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻

FNBMIG: @lehuka123

Everything: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws @odette-ssbu

[carewyncromwell]

You have yourself a big fan of Orion/Carewyn. I was wondering if you have any headcanons for them yet?

-rosievixen

^.^ Yatta! Another passenger on the HMS Carion! Hahaha.

I’m still developing stuff, but here are a few things I’ve come up with --

Orion’s feelings for Carewyn really started “going off-balance” for him when she got hurt in the Quidditch Final, but he first realized that Carewyn could be someone he could fall in love with when he saw her Patronus. Orion learned how to cast Expecto Patronum earlier that year, and he was so stunned to see someone else with an Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus. He knew, however, that he was about to start on a path toward his future as a Quidditch player and that Carewyn herself was on a path centered around the Vaults, so he kept his thoughts to himself, telling himself that if they were truly meant to be, like the Patronus superstition dictates, they’d find a way back to each other someday. In the subsequent years they were apart, Orion often scolded himself for his cowardice.

Carewyn was always very fond of Orion, but she didn’t really acknowledge to herself how much the love she felt had become something deeply romantic until they were adults. Looking back, she realized that most people probably wouldn’t throw themselves in front of a Bludger just to make sure someone else’s dream came true.

Once Orion graduated, he and Carewyn exchanged letters somewhat infrequently, since Orion’s schedule as a Quidditch player is so erratic. Orion didn’t see Carewyn in person again until the Second Wizarding War.

In the years between their meetings, Orion had several romantic partners, but none of them lasted very long. The longest was with a young woman named Delilah Flint, the mother of Orion’s daughter, Eos Amari. Delilah gave birth to Eos right after the revelation of Voldemort’s return in 1996, and she not only was deeply afraid of Voldemort due to her family’s history with the Death Eaters, but she also suffered from severe post-partum depression after giving birth to Eos. To top it all off, Delilah was in such severe financial trouble that she soon would have no choice but to go to her family for help, who would not be all right with her having had a child of mixed ancestry out of wedlock. All of this weighed on Delilah enough that she was ready to give Eos up to an orphanage, which of course Orion couldn’t bear the thought of. Although he tried everything he could to try to convince Delilah to reconsider, even going so far as to propose marriage to Delilah so as to keep both her and Eos in his life, Delilah rejected all of his attempts, practically dropping six-month-old Eos in Orion’s lap and leaving for her family’s house that very night, never to return. When the Ministry fell, Orion had to go into hiding (a bit difficult with an infant in tow) -- fortunately thanks to fellow members of the Quidditch League like Andre Egwu, Oliver Wood, Skye Parkin, and Erika Rath, Orion was able to escape the Death Eaters when they swept over the League looking for people with “questionable” magical ancestry. One of those Death Eaters sent after Orion was Night Rhea @nightrhea-hphm, who had played alongside him on the Slytherin Quidditch team once upon a time -- no one knew until well afterward that secret-double-agent!Night had actually gone a bit over-the-top in her burning of the Quidditch League’s headquarters so as to give more fugitives like Orion the chance to escape.

Orion and Carewyn end up colliding during the Second Wizarding War when Carewyn and her friend and coworker Angelo Lancaster @angellazull were enlisted in helping smuggle several prisoners out of Ministry custody, including Orion. One of the very first things Carewyn and Orion said to each other was “You cut your hair.” “So did you.” (I see Orion taking on the “long hair with an undercut” look and wearing a short ponytail so as to keep the hair off his neck while he’s competing in Quidditch matches. Carewyn of course wears her hair shorter as an adult.)

The two reconnect further after the War while Orion tries to build a new home for himself and Eos. Carewyn, being a lawyer, helps him sort out the paperwork designating Orion as Eos’s legal guardian since he hadn’t been married to Delilah when she first gave birth to Eos.

Orion finds a wry amusement in how his daughter and Carewyn’s “son” have the same initials -- Eos Amari and Erik Apollo -- and both have names evocative of Greek Gods.

Carewyn is more amused by the fact that one of Orion’s primary lullabies for Eos is “Walking in the Air” -- the same song she sang for him after the Final match against Ravenclaw.

Orion loves listening to Carewyn rattle on about her court cases. He gets great entertainment out of the “Fire Crab” level of fire she expresses. Despite his amusement when she’s informally discussing the cases, however, he’s also always totally proud beyond belief when she wins one of those cases, even if he doesn’t explicitly say so.

What Orion loves more, though, is whenever Carewyn sings. One of the only times Orion’s ever cried happy tears (or even cried, period) in his life is when Carewyn first sings a lullaby to put fussy toddler Eos to sleep one night.

Carewyn loves watching Orion fly with the Montrose Magpies. She usually doesn’t tell Orion if she’s coming ahead of time so that when she rushes to greet him after the match, it’s a nice surprise. The first time she did this, Orion was so overwhelmed and happy that he couldn’t stop himself from pushing past all of the reporters to get to her. When she threw her arms around him in a hug, Orion -- not used to receiving or even expressing a lot of physical affection, thanks to his childhood -- kind of froze up like a startled cat, before mirroring her and holding her back. He then didn’t let go of her for a solid ten minutes.

Expect moonlit broom ride dates for these two. Carewyn’s a little out of practice on a broom given how much of a workaholic she is, and she loves taking the opportunity to fly side by side with Orion again.

After finding out Orion was vegetarian, Carewyn goes out of her way to learn a good amount of vegetarian-friendly recipes for whenever Orion comes over to visit. (She gets some good advice from friend Wendy Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch while doing research.)

Even though Carewyn is the Mama Bear and frequently reminds Orion to assert himself more and meet important deadlines, Orion “Papa Bears” Carewyn just as much by encouraging her to sleep more and trying to ween her off of caffeine.

When Orion’s around, you’ll often see the two of them drinking tea together instead of coffee (which Carewyn drinks a lot at work) or white wine (which Carewyn indulges in at parties). Orion’s favorite is lavender tea -- Carewyn prefers a nice Earl Gray. 

When Orion uses his own Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus in front of Carewyn for the first time, it’s right around the time that both of them have realized the depth of their feelings for each other but have yet to actually verbalize it. Needless to say, Carewyn can’t stop herself from crying at the sight of it.

Although Orion frequently says Carewyn’s inner fire rivals that of a Fire Crab, he still most frequently compares her to an Abraxan. His pet name for her ends up being “his Abraxan.” Carewyn will dip into the usual things like “dear” and “love,” but when she’s feeling particularly affectionate, she’ll call Orion “starlight.”

Orion most frequently compares his daughter Eos to a Mooncalf because of her big, cutesy eyes. He most frequently compares Carewyn’s ward Erik to a Jarvey because of his snarky attitude and overzealous swearing. 

Orion/Carewyn would be a deeply romantic legal partnership more than a domestic partnership or marriage. Despite being partners under the law for legal reasons like child guardianship and healthcare, they’d each have their own flat -- Carewyn’s in London, England near her job at the Ministry and Orion’s in Montrose, Scotland, the hometown of his Quidditch team -- and their own routine apart from each other. They frequently will Floo over to their respective partner’s place for a meal or to stay the weekend and they’re very affectionate with each other, but the two never really create a traditional “nuclear family” with Carewyn as Eos’s stepmother or Orion as a second legal guardian for Erik. Despite this, Eos does see Carewyn as a mother figure and Erik does have a lot of respect for Orion however much he snarks his face off.

[anniebibananie]

Arya and Jon go back to Winterfell after they kill Dany to find Gendry and Sansa waiting for them. Please and thank you!

hi this turned into a weird brotp fic really but also there’s romance. also ghost is here because i said so. enjoy!!

Winterfell was quieter with the war on someone else’s doorstep. Sansa wasn’t sure how to fill all her time as she sat with the silence around her. She could continue making plans for repairs, but with the fighting men gone there was little they could do with those left behind. And her eyes could look at embroidery and needlepoint for only so many hours a day.

It was sort of empty—Winterfell without her family. Sansa could walk, though, and a week or so after Jon and Arya had left she found herself doing so past the forge. Maybe it was a longing, a sort of half-thought to Arya that pulled her in. Perhaps a sort of loneliness, really.

He was bent over something small, working with a concentration that Sansa found admirable. When he looked up and spotted her, he quickly stood to his feet.

“Lady Sansa.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Was there something I could do for you?”

She found a small smile playing at her lips, filled with amusement. He seemed sweet, and Sansa thought of Arya. Part of her wanted to know everything that had happened between them, not just the small bits of information Arya had been willing to share. Why was he here? she wondered. Where she is not.

“I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to dine with me tonight?” She held her hands in front of her. The forge was warm, and she already felt her palms grow slicker. “If you have other plans or lack the time, then don’t fret about it.”

I’m lonely, she thought but would never say. I miss my family.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s nonstop as of late,” he joked, but then he stood up straighter and cleared his throat as if he realized which Stark sister exactly he was speaking to. “I mean no offense, of course.”

She hummed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to sup if I wanted fake courtesies. I thought you might be missing my sister the same way I am. That is all.”

“I…” he trailed off, looking down at his shuffling feet and scratching at the back of his neck. He looked up again, and while Gendry wasn’t the sort of man Sansa could see herself falling for she saw the appeal. He was handsome—a durable, stable sort of man. “Yes. I’d like that.”

She nodded then, trying to hold back her smile. “I will see you tonight.”

__

“I might have…” Gendry paused, taking another sip from his cup as Sansa positioned her chair closer to the fire. “Well, I sort of proposed to her after that. I asked her to be the lady of Storm’s End.”

Sansa brought a hand to her mouth, covering it quickly as a laugh burst through. “I apologize. I don’t mean to laugh, I just—”

“Oh,” he near wailed in a way that made Sansa laugh again, “I was so stupid. I really got over excited because I was a lord and—”

“It’s sweet,” she said, leaning forward. “You love her.”

He shook his head as he looked down into his wine. “I should have known she wouldn’t want to marry. She’s got better things to do then sit around in some castle with the likes of me.”

“You love her,” Sansa repeated, articulating the words as they bounced off her tongue. “I know my sister. I have to admit there are things we’re still relearning about one another, but I know her. We spent a long time apart, but she’s my sister. She loves you, too.”

His eyebrows pushed together. “Then, why…”

“You asked her to be a lady,” Sansa said. “She wants you, not the titles or the castle or any of it. If you ask her better, she might say yes next time. Or perhaps not. She would say yes to you, though.”

She took a sip of her own wine, then, as she eyed out into the dark sky. It was getting late, and if she let Gendry stay for much longer she could only imagine the gossip that would rise around the castle. He was a lord now, after all, and people were expecting her to wed. Years ago, it had been another Baratheon she was promised to. It wouldn’t have seemed that far of a stretch to the imagination, she supposed.

“What about you, Lady Sansa?” he asked. “Have you been in love?”

The wine made her feel lighter. He was certainly feeling it himself with the way he had opened up about her sister.

“I think…” the words trailed off, and she thought about it then. Telling Gendry everything. Confiding in him. Perhaps it would feel as sweet as the wine they shared. She sighed. “It’s getting late,” she said instead.

The legs of his chair screeched against the stone of the floor as he stood. “Of course. Good night, Lady Sansa.”

“Gendry,” she said, waiting for him to turn. “You can call me Sansa. And I would like to do this again, if you can find the time.”

He smiled again. “My time is far less precious than yours. You can have however much of it you want, Sansa.”

She watched him exit with an inescapable smile on her lips.

__

It had become a sort of routine, the two of them. They didn’t eat together every night, but they saw each other often enough. Some days, Sansa would find him in the forge. Others, he joined her for a walk in the woods.

Nights together, though, remained Sansa’s favorite. It was when the loneliness crept in the most, and instead of having to deal with it alone she had Gendry by her side. The wine helped loosen their tongues, but these days there was an honesty that resided between them without it.

“This is Jon’s dog, right?” he asked one night from the floor as he was petting Ghost.

“Yes. Ghost,” Sansa said as she looked up from the shirt she was fixing the sleeve of for him. Ghost tilted his head, and Sansa smiled at him. “Jon almost let him leave with the wildlings.”

“But you didn’t let that happen?” Gendry asked, petting behind Ghost’s ears.

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think Jon was feeling quite himself.”

Gendry paused and sat up straighter. “How so?”

Sansa’s eyes were trained on the flames. “I’m quite certain he thought he was going to die. Or at least not return. Even if that’s the case, Ghost is part of the Stark family. He stays with me.”

As if sensing her words, Ghost stood to curl around Sansa’s feet. She bent forward and pet his head, feeling a familiar fondness swirl through her. 

“You love him,” Gendry said suddenly, the thought clearly striking him all at once.

“Ghost?” Sansa asked lightly as she dipped forward to pet at his fur. “Yes, obviously.”

“Jon,” Gendry corrected.

Sansa’s body froze. She looked at him slowly, as if with each movement she was trying to decide just how to respond. Then, because Gendry was looking at her without judgement and the softest bit of affection that went straight for her chest and throat, she nodded. “Yes.” It was barely a whisper.

“He’s your cousin now. You could marry him, couldn’t you? When he returns.”

“I fear that the Dragon Queen has her claws in him.” She dropped the shirt into her lap, giving up on finishing that fine stitching that required too much of her focus. “They might be too deep. He might not want them to stop being deep.”

“You think he loves her?” he asked. There was a shock in his voice that surprised her.

“I think he has done what he felt he needed to to keep us safe and alive. I think at some point, the lines of need versus want may have become blurred.”

“I think…” Gendry began, his mind seemingly working hard if his furrowed brow was anything to go by, “he would prefer to be here. Home. With you all.”

Sansa appreciated the thought. She imagined Jon sitting back beside her again. She pictured Arya on the floor with Bran wheeled in, too. She even kept Gendry there. All of them together. It would be sort of wonderful.

“Maybe in another world I could have married you, Gendry Baratheon,” she said with a sad sort of smile.

He reflected it right back to her. “I’ll always be Gendry Waters, though. Won’t I? Bastard boys like Jon and I. That’s who we’ll always be, really.” The silence sat for a minute—not unkind, not uncomfortable. “I think you and I were probably always destined to love difficult people.”

“Yes, I think so, too,” Sansa nearly whispered, for some reason feeling a tear drip down her cheek. Before she could reach for it, Gendry was in front of her and wiping it away with the rough pad of his thumb.

“It would be nice, though,” Gendry said with a soft smile. “A low-born bastard could do a lot worse than someone like you, Sansa.”

“A cold Northern lady could do worse than someone like you, Gendry.”

She reached out a hand. He clasped it in return.

__

The Dragon Queen was dead. The letter had said it, and that meant many things. There were politics to be figured out. There were people who now needed homes and supplies. There was a future. Jon and Arya were alive. Mostly, selfishly, she cared only that it meant they would be coming home.

Sansa ran with the scroll in one hand, her skirts in the other, and found Gendry where she found him most days. 

“They’re coming home,” she said breathlessly. She did not say they’ve won. She wasn’t sure any of them felt as if they actually had. What was winning when there was so much death? Destruction they wouldn’t be able to possibly all fix in their lifetimes?

“Arya, too?” he asked. 

Sansa nodded, and he reached forward to clasp her in a hug. She let him twirl her around, her feet lifted from the ground, and she laughed with true, boisterous joy for what felt like the first time in months. 

__

Sansa and Gendry stood side by side when they returned. He had wanted to hide away in the forge, sure Arya wanted nothing to do with him despite Sansa’s words to the contrary, but Sansa had put an end to that. 

“You must,” she had said with a raise of her brow. “Would you deny your Queen?” 

He lifted up his hammer, pointing it at her. “See. That’s just dirty. You’re playing dirty.” 

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. “How about for me, then? I could use your support.” 

“Fine.” He sighed, bent back over the sword. “For you, then.” 

Jon came toward her with slow steps. It seemed as if he had aged years since she last saw him, but there was something open as he got closer. With each step he seemed wearier, more tired, but it was as if he was opening that door to allow her to see it. 

“Sansa,” he said as he reached forward, cupping the back of her head and resting his own face into her neck. She could feel his breaths against her skin. 

“You’re home now,” she said, trying to hold him tighter into herself. Maybe if she could bring him closer, hold him together, then he would feel more whole. He could feel safe enough to finally rest. 

__

“What’s going on with you and Gendry?” Arya asked only a day later. 

Sansa had been looking over notes at her desk, and she hadn’t heard the intrusion. Her heart jolted, and she brought a hand to her chest. 

“I thought we agreed you would be more wary of frightening your dear sister.” 

“Sorry.” She did not sound that sorry. Arya sat on the edge of the desk, wrinkling a scroll and throwing an apple up and down in smooth swoops. She caught it with a crisp snap. “He keeps talking about you.”

“We spent a lot of time together without you here.” 

Arya raised a brow, and Sansa leaned back in her chair. 

“I didn’t steal him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“He’s a person, not chattel. You couldn’t steal him.” 

“Of course I couldn’t,” Sansa agreed. “Especially because he’s yours. He loves you, you know. He told me all about his tragic proposal. You might try talking to him. Properly so.” 

Arya sighed, her gaze trailing away from her sister to the light from the window. “I know.” 

“He’d give you whatever version of a future you wanted,” Sansa advised, dipping closer to her sister. “He just wants you.”

Arya turned to look at her over her shoulder, and she looked young. Sometimes, Sansa forgot that they were all barely more than children really. They had picked up their parent’s wars and ran with them, never getting the time to figure out what any of them wanted. 

“Jon feels the same way about you,” Arya said. “He loves you, I’m pretty sure. I am usually quite good at picking up on those sorts of things these days.” 

Sansa tilted her head. She was sort of surprised Arya would talk about it so willingly, but she thought it might have been a sort of gift Arya offered her. Maybe after all the death of King’s Landing, Arya was simply happy to be home and love her sister, whatever the strangeness that surrounded her love life may be. Sansa hoped that was the case. 

“He loved her.” They had been beautiful together. Sansa still thought about them sitting side by side at her table, the way Jon and her used to before she came, and how powerful they had looked. “I don’t know if I could handle him loving me in halves because of what he still feels for her.” 

“You should try talking to him,” Arya said as she popped back up to her feet and took a bite from the apple. “Maybe we both should try talking to these stupid boys.” 

Sansa laughed. Months ago, she never would have imagined getting to this. “Maybe we should.” 

__

Despite her conversation with Arya, Sansa let Jon rest for a few days before seeking him out to speak. That was what she told herself, anyways. It had nothing to do with fear and the idea that she had no idea where to start. Nothing at all. 

She went to his chambers after supper, and she knocked. For a minute, she was sure he would not answer. Then he pulled open the door, and Sansa was shocked for a minute at the look of him. 

His beard was cleaned up, his face looked fresh, and his hair fell freely around his shoulders. It was the most put together she had seen him in some time. He looked well-slept, and when she walked past him into the room it felt like he was at least attempting to step into whatever the future would be. There wasn’t the familiar weight of the past or the unbearable urgency of the present hanging anywhere in sight. 

“Is this about Arya and Gendry?” he asked. “I already told them I wouldn’t say anything until—”

“Did you walk in on them?” Sansa asked with a bit of surprise. She laughed as his face turned sour, a true belly-full laugh. “No, I didn’t come here to talk about Arya and Gendry. Though, I’m glad they’ve worked it all out.” 

“And you’re not upset?” he asked. 

“Should I be?” she returned with a tilt of her head. 

“I heard you and Lord Baratheon have grown quite close in our absence.” His face didn’t look angry, though, just teasing. Maybe a little sad, if anything. 

“I’m sure you’ve learned at some point that we need friends outside of our family,” Sansa said. She smiled, feeling unable to carry any sort of heaviness tonight across from him. “No, my heart never could have belonged to him, anyways. I’d given it to someone a while ago, though I was certain they’d already given theirs to someone else.” 

Jon’s brows crashed together, and she wondered if she had perhaps been too vague or if he would catch her meaning. Maybe she had crossed a line.

“Sansa,” he began, soft and slow as he stepped nearer her, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

She shrugged. “You’d have to be a bit more specific on what you’re thinking. I’ve found I’m not always sure what that is.” 

He released a long breath. “I never loved her. I couldn’t, not when I’d chosen to love someone else already.” 

Sansa was afraid to hope, to dare it to be true. Maybe that was all they had for the future now, though, an opportunity to open themselves to the fear and joy of actual happiness. She held onto Jon’s face, and he didn’t pull back. 

“You love me?” she asked, feeling fragile and cracked open and a million other dangerous things. 

He nodded. “I do.” Then, he broke the space between them and kissed her soundly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with only love and joy. Only with peace. It felt like coming home. It felt like they already were home, and finally they knew it wasn’t going anywhere. She was surprised to find she could feel herself growing used to the feeling already. 

__

Gendry found her standing between the battlements, looking off at the rolling lands beyond the castle walls. It was a nice day, and Sansa thought she could perhaps feel the winds of spring already falling over the North. 

“You were right, you know,” Gendry said. “It really pains me to say it.” 

“You were right, too,” she said, turning toward him and giving a teasing smile. “Though, probably not as right as I was.” 

“Maybe we don’t love quite as difficult of people as we thought.” 

“No.” Sansa shook her head. Their eyes met, and Sansa knew the two of them understood each other in a way that would never disappear. He was part of her family now, too. “They’re difficult through and through. We’re simply stubborn in return.” 

He scoffed. “A bull loving a wolf, and a wolf loving a dragon. It sounds like a pitiful joke.” 

“No,” she repeated. Her smile was sort of mischievous, sort of powerful. Sansa felt happy, truly and fully. “It sounds like a story. A good one, if I do say so myself.” 

[notactiveanymorebestie]

Finley’s Fnaf Lore (1960(?)-1985)

TW - Child death, murder, su!c!d3, just a lot of really creepy and horrifying stuff. Don’t read if you’re easily disturbed, please.

So it starts off with William Afton meeting Henry Emily in high school. They both discover they have a love for robots and building. They start to work together and create their first creation, Prototype Fredbear. They end up losing connection for awhile, each having their own family. William marries a very nice and beautiful woman who is a ballerina. She is named Elizabeth, which they do name one of their twins. Henry marries a softhearted yet determined woman named Clara, who starred in a soap opera! (heheh).

William and Elizabeth have Michael, and Henry and Clara have Sammy. William and Henry reconnect and Mike and Sam grow up together as best friends. Meanwhile, Fredbear’s opens, and it’s the biggest thing in all of Hurricane Utah. Fredbear and SpringBonnie are loved so much, and the Puppet is added after Sammy designed him.

William eventually comes out that him and Eliza are having twins, and Henry and Clara are so happy for them. The twins were named Elizabeth and Cassidy. They grew up loving plushies. Years later... Cassidy and Lizzy have grown and Michael is 14, Henry and Clara have their baby girl, Charlie Emily... William is happy, but jealous. He wanted his children to stay small and pure forever...

He starts to work on a solo project, Circus Baby’s Pizza World! He designs Baby after Elizabeth, Funtime Freddy after Michael, Lolbit after Cassidy, Funtime Foxy after himself, Ballora after his wife, and Funtime Chica after Clara, who he had... a strange obsession with, to say the least...

It opens in 1982, and Elizabeth is ecstatic. She loves Baby, but her father refuses to let her go see them. But he had a reason... This solo project was to see if he could keep children young and precious, by killing them and keeping them in these robots... He didn’t want his little girl to get hurt.

He leaves to talk to a parent, who’s twins have gone missing, Rose and David, and leaves Mike and Cass to stay with Lizzy. Michael and Cass were very close at the time, so they got distracted with their dumb stories. Lizzy runs off to see Baby, but while reaching for the ice cream that was served by CB, another scooper like design shoots out and grabs her. She screams and Mike rushes to try and get her. However, he misses, and Lizzy is forever trapped inside Circus Baby. William is heartbroken.

His baby, his sweet little girl... gone forever.. He decides to close down the place. This is due to three children, four including Lizzy, going missing inside the restaurant...

They are stuck there for years.

Michael and Cassidy’s relationship starts to break as William becomes harsher and their mother more distanced. The Emilys are doing great, though. Of course they are, they ALWAYS are.

Will and Henry decide to add Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, Balloon Boy, JJ, and DeeDee. They are finished by the end of 1982, beginning the new year.

Oh! I know who I forgot to mention, Fritz. He was a taller ginger haired boy with green eyes. He was close to Cassidy and Lizzy, their best friend. After Liz’s death, he is forced to stay away from Cassidy for awhile. Michael goes through his own thing and forms a groups. Jeremy, Sammy, and Bella. They each wear masks, to take their anger and fear out on poor little Cassidy, who is tormented by animatronics after watching his own twin sister die inside one. This causes his to have nightmares every night, and traumatized him further.. Him and Fritz reconnect in the summer, and the ginger is the only one to arrive at the birthday party.

Cassidy had also been having visions of gore and terror after the nightmares. He wasn’t sure what they were at the time, so he ignored them. The day of his party was going to be great. Just him, Fritz, his momma and papa, and his Fredbear plushie. He had no idea Mike and his friends would be there. He tried to stay away from them.. He had no idea this would be his last birthday. Cassidy and Fritz were playing Fruity Maze, but only Cassidy heard his mother call for them. He ran off to get the pizza, while Fritz stayed in obliviousness. Cassidy found Mike and the others there. Unfortunately for him, his mother had already went to find Fritz. Michael and his friends pulled poor Cassy away, just leaving Fredbear Plush on the ground. Eliza and Fritz were startled by the screaming and crying. Fritz, being athletic and fast, ran across the entire diner to find Cassidy. He only saw what was left of the incident.

Absolutely horrified, Fritz grabbed the Fredbear plushies and ran home. He was never the same.

... William had it. He was done. He had to save his little boy. He tried and tried, but nothing really worked... He got frustrated and left his body at Fredbear’s, right next to the Fredbear animatronic. The remnant of Cass’s soul ended up creating another, fake version of Fredbear, which Cass deemed to be named Goldie, as a body. He woke up scared and alone, and wanted to just go home. He only had Fredbear and Spring, who could feel human emotion. The others couldnt, but at least he had two friends.

1984, a year after Cassidy’s death rolled around. That meant it marked the death day of both Cassidy and Eliza, who k!ll3d herself out of grief from her children dying. Of course, William blamed this on himself and Mike, taking his anger out by either yelling at Michael or just leaving for hours. Mike started to design animatronics himself to seek approval from his father, which eventually worked. However, it was Charlie’s birthday. Henry and Clara were extremely happy to see their little girl growing up, and Sammy was too (though he was never the same after what happened to his best friend’s little brother)

It was the night William made the biggest decision in his life.

Springbonnie was his prized creation, and she looked up to him like a god. He used her as a pawn to lure Charlie outside and lock her in the rain while he got to the car and drove to the front. Charlie tried to get in, and Puppet (her favorite) searched for the little 3 year old desperately... Charlie was losing hope until she saw Uncle Will’s car. She beamed with excitement, going to him. He told her they could get in the back... that was a lie.

Charlie was found dead an hour later with Puppet next to her.

1985, the year of misery and mystery. Four children, each of them never found. William had friends who had a little girl, named Susie. The Aftons also had a dog named Marigold who had recently had puppies. The entire litter except for one died, and that one was given to Susie. She was so happy, she named him Cookie. He was a golden puppy with one black ear.

There was another family, and they had no connection to Will. They had a little boy named Jeremy. he was the shyest kid in the class, but the smartest. No one knows how he befriended the most popular girl.

The final children... Gabriel. A sweet kid who was the leader of the group. It was Susie, Jeremy, and him against the world.. and occasionally his cousin... Fritz.

A few months after Susie had gotten Cookie, they took him to see Marigold. Cookie, scared of Will, ran away. Susie and her family/friends couldn’t find him and eventually gave up.

Driving home one night, William accidentally hit something. Getting out of the car, he realized it was the poor puppy. He didn’t really care, he just laughed and drove off. Problem was, Gabriel’s birthday was that morning. And the pup’s body was found outside the diner, mangled, by Susie. She, however, stayed strong and went to Gabe’s birthday anyways. The biggest mistake of her life. And the last, too.

Fritz had always hated animatronics since his best friend died. He hated the diner... but he liked Foxy a little. He was only there for Gabe and his friends.

The fear that filled him when Susie suddenly went missing. She was last seen crying by Fruity Maze.

Meanwhile, two familiar children were panicking. A golden bear, and a long strange marionette. Only one was visible to the children, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get them to not follow the golden bunny. She didn’t know Cassidy was an afton, he was just Goldie to her. To Charlie, that is. They watched as another child was lead away.

Poor little Jeremy, he only wanted the Bonnie plush from the claw machine. He ran out of money, but a nice green eyed rabbit offered her money to him. He just had to follow her.

Gabriel and Fritz decided to go and look for them. Cassidy froze in fear. Anyone but him, anyone but his best friend.

The two dead children could only watch as the two were stolen away. Gabriel was convinced because this rabbit said she knew where their friends were. Fritz didn’t go, until the rabbit whispered that she could show him Cassidy once more. That convinced him. When they got to the backroom, all they saw were Susie and Jeremy. Dead, bloody, no more.

Gabriel tried to scream, but was snatched up by Will in the Spring suit. Fritz went to run away to tell someone, but William threatened to kill Gabriel if he told. He said he would leave them if Fritz gave up. The 12 year old, however, refused. He grabbed a wrench, charging at the rabbit. William immediately killed Gabriel, dropping him and grabbed Fritz, cutting off the hand that the wrench was in, which also costed the child his eye.

Everything was a blur for them for what seemed like hours.

Fritz woke up to a red eyed crocodile, and golden bear, and Puppet staring at him. He noticed his friends were there too, each with a mask of an animatronic on their face. He looked back and was handed a Foxy mask.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes, put it on, and you will be given your second chance.”

He woke up once more in a strange body. He felt cold and afraid, but he saw the golden bear in front of him again.

“Hello, Fritz, I am Goldie. I’m happy to meet you.”

“Where am I?!”

“Your new body.”

It was at that moment, Fritz realized he was no longer human. He started at his new metallic hands, but he was not scared. He was worried about the others, the younger children he had seen.

The fox took his first run in the new body. He found them by Puppet, and was followed by Goldie. The three of them were broken down, letting out terrified wails.

Oh... this was all his fault. From that day on, he dedicated himself to keep the others safe with Puppet and Cassidy.

[oikawasnumberonebitch]

“Tooru, Do You Still Like Aliens?”

“Tooru, Do You Still Like Aliens?”

Description: Oikawa works himself too hard, Iwaizumi decides tying him to the bed is the best way to deal with him and they continue to live out their lives together.

Warnings: Mentions of an eating disorder, knee injury, angst.

Words: 1750

Oikawa Tooru, the great king, the best setter in the prefecture. Lies, they were all lies to him, he wasn’t the best his little kouhai had taken away from him so he trained and he trained and he collapsed from exhaustion over and over and over again.

Iwaizumi tried for weeks to get him to lighten up on himself, but gave up after Oikawa yelled at him and dug his grave. When Oikawa was like this no one could really stop the self destruction, not even Iwaizumi.

So on repeat for weeks upon weeks Oikawa would go to the Seijoh gym and practice all of his serves and sets and later practiced his spikes and receives because he needed to be the best. It didn’t matter if he had a team if he couldn’t win on his own, how could he win with a team who was relying on him. He needed to prove to Ushijima that his pride was not worthless and that he would get better, even better than him.

Meanwhile Iwaizumi was worrying, he tried calling Oikawa for awhile but when he wouldn’t pick up he would spam him with reminders to sleep and eat, not matter that he knew Oikawa never checked his phone and even if he did he wouldn’t care. He knew Oikawa was eating the bare minimum to stay alive and was drinking coffee everyday all day to stay awake so he didn’t have to face his fears in the night time because he couldn’t control his dreams and an Oikawa without control was one that Iwaizumi was scared of.

So when he found Oikawa collapsed in the gym clutching his knee with his shirt lifted up so Iwaizumi could see Oikawa’s stomach, or what was left of it, his ribs were visible and he could count them clear as day. He decided that he didn’t care how much Oikawa hated him and he wouldn’t let him destroy himself any longer.

“Please stop, I can't see you hurt yourself anymore.” Iwaizumi whispered and although he knew Oikawa couldn’t hear him he needed to say it.

He carried Oikawa’s sleeping body to his house, his parents weren’t home as they were on their anniversary vacation and he wanted them to have a fun time so he didn’t go.

He knew Oikawa would wake up soon and he decided to sign his death certificate because he knows in order for Oikawa to listen he would have to be tied to the bed. So while he was tying Oikawa’s arms to the bed he was wondering how he was going to approach this. He could go for the gentler way, but he knew deep down Oikawa wouldn’t listen. However going for the aggressive approach wouldn’t work with the fragility of Oikawa’s mind currently and it could break him. He didn’t have enough time to figure it out because Oikawa was waking up, Iwaizumi quickly grabbed a chair and sat down about six feet from the bed, he didn’t want to get kicked.

“So Iwa-Chan do you want to tell me why I’m tied to the bed?” Oikawa asks, his tone was sarcastic, but expected.

“You won’t listen otherwise and would try to leave while giving me the bull shit that you’re fine you’re not.” Iwaizumi states with the same bland attitude that he usually had.

“I am fine. I’m just practicing.” Oikawa’s voice shaking, as always, excuses sound best to the person that’s making them. Iwaizumi was furious, actually no, he was outraged.

“You’re not fine Oikawa! You are working your body to the brink of death that you can’t even see the final outcome! You will never be able to play volleyball if your knee gets jacked up enough from all the practices you are putting yourself through and to make matters worse you aren't eating, you aren’t sleeping and you won’t even answer me anymore, at what point does this end! Is it when you have to crawl to get your phone so you call me to come pick you up because your knee is screaming at you for working it too hard or is it when you pass out from exhaustion and malnutrition and you hit something to hard or you get a concussion, when does it fucking end!” Oikawa is quiet and Iwaizumi is breathing heavily trying to catch his breath.

“I care about you everyone on the team is worried, I am worried, you can’t keep doing this, because the day I get a phone call that you are in the hospital is the day we are done, you won’t have me anymore if you keep this up, because I won’t enable your selfish habits. I will leave you, I will not watch you become a shell of who you used to be.” Iwaizumi finishes with a shaky exhale. When he looks up the first thing he notices are the tears streaming down Oikawa’s face and he keeps muttering that he’s sorry . That’s when Iwaizumi hears the haunting sentence in such a begging voice he never wants to hear it again.

“Please don't leave me, I’m sorry I’ll be good, I won’t practice so hard anymore just please don’t leave me all alone!” Oikawa pleads. Iwaizumi quickly unties Oikawa’s hands, and hugs him so hard he's afraid he’ll break the poor boy.

“It’s okay, we’re okay, I’m never going to leave you, just please stop.” Now they’re both crying into each other Oikawa is sitting on Iwa’s lap and looks up at him, there lips are inches apart and Oikawa hesitantly leans in, while Iwaizumi places both his hands on the sides of Tooru’s face and softly presses his lips against the taller boy’s.

“I love you, I’m sorry.” Oikawa says it first.

“I know, I love you too.” Iwaizumi concedes.

The rest of the summer they spent together going on corner store dates and cuddling together. When their third year of high school came, they were an official couple, Oikawa would only indulge his fangirls when he knew Iwaizumi was okay with it and Iwaizumi hadn’t hit him hard since second year and oiled only lightly slap him now, they still bickered and fought, but Iwaizumi would never degrade Oikawa or make him feel worthless and in return Oikawa was patient with Iwaizumi knowing the boy wasn’t the best with dealing with his emotions. Third year passed quickly and Oikawa did take his team to nationals and he did get to win. He later went to the same college Iwaizumi went to because in his words “Why would I go to a school without my Iwa-Chan you are my only self control.” However true that was, Iwaizumi knew it was because Oikawa was scared.

When Oikawa moved to Argentina they didn’t break up, on the contrary they became even stronger partners. There was something about being thousand of miles away from your other half that makes your heart grow fonder. Their connection never broke and Oikawa spent the next year only homesick once in a while. When Iwaizumi moved there too as a job offer to be their trainer, Oikawa was ecstatic because ‘his Iwa-Cham was going to be here and he got to hug and kiss him all he wanted’ and no matter how much Iwaizumi denied it he was bouncing his foot when he was getting off his flight.

All of sudden something hard and heavy slammed into his front, taking him down along with the other person and even without looking at who it was Iwaizumi knew, he knew.

“Iwa-Chan, I missed you!” Oikawa was crying, how did Iwaizumi know? Because Oikawa was running snot into his shirt.

“Ugh, Shittykawa stop rubbing your face into my shirt.” Iwaizumi said it half heartedly, he missed the tall man too. Oikawa led Iwaizumi to his car so they could drive to Oikawa’s condo. Twenty minutes into the drive Iwaizumi fell asleep, he woke up in Oikawa’s arms as they were walking up the stairs.

“You know it’s usually me carrying you, not the other way around,” Iwaizumi smirked. He wondered when Oikawa got so strong, but then again he was training non stop here, but healthily this time.

“Yeah well Iwa-Chan you are my princess.” Oikawa teased and Iwaizumi hit him over the head, bickering could be heard from everywhere, due to Oikawa’s dramatic wails.

When they finally got to the condo Iwaizumi was impressed it was clean and in all the years of knowing Oikawa his room had only been clean a few times and not by choice.

“What’s with the clean room, you don’t do this unless something important is goin-“ Iwaizumi froze, Oikawa was on one knee with a ring in his hand and he looked absolutely terrified.

“Before you say anything I know that we’re on the younger side and have our whole lives ahead of us, but I love you and I want to take your last name and be married so everyone knows you’re mine and I’m yours, so will you please marry me, I know I’m not the best boyfriend but-“ He gets cut off by Iwaizumi’s lips.

“Of course I will marry you, you are so stupid I love you.” Oikawa is shocked. Iwaizumi goes back to kissing him and they head into the bedroom, forgive them father, for they have sinned.

Their wedding was extravagant and all their friends from Miyaginand Tokyo were invited, reluctantly so was Ushijima, Oikawa whined about it for days, but Iwaizumi wouldn’t let up. So when the time came, Hinata was the best man for Oikawa and Sakusa was best man for Iwaizumi. Hanamaki and Matssun were the flower girls. Atsumu was the ring bearer and typically he lost the rings only to realize, Osamu just stole them for fun, that caused a racket. Osamu was also the minister/officiater.

Five years later and Oikawa retired and so did Iwaizumi they bought a small house in Tokyo and stayed there for a majority of the rest of their lives occasionally traveling.

When they died they were both 85 and still, as deeply in love as they were when they were teenagers. Oikawa has Alzheimer’s but still always remembers his Iwa-chan and they both passed while cuddled in Oikawa’s hospital bed, happily and at peace. Their last words being,

“Tooru, do you still like aliens?”

“Course I do, but not as much as I love you, Iwa-Chan .”

“I love you too, Tooru Iwaizumi always and forever.”

[miraclealignersv]

Eating for three (Joe Toye x reader)

ask: could you do a Joe Toye x reader in which the reader tries to tell him that shes pregnant but hes like super clueless and busy and doesnt catch on to the clues. Thank you Alex!

A/n: I hope you enjoy! This was so cute to write I love it. (Also I’ve never been pregnant before so I have no idea if this is accurate) anyway, enjoy you guys!

Tag list: @gottapenny @curraheev @wexhappyxfew @bandofmarvels

If there was something y/n hated, it was keeping secrets. Especially from Joe Toye. She didnt even realize it herself at first, not until she started to notice suttle changes. She was tired all the time, would sleep in late and would often take naps throughout the day. Adding on the dizzy spells she at first through she was sick. But all of that followed by the headaches and the cherry on top: Nausea.

She knew something was wrong, at first she didn’t catch onto the symtopms. Not until one night, after dinner one evening. Both Joe and her sat in the living room, he was reading through the mail while y/n watched a sitcom. Until the symptoms were brought up, and the main character of the show was pregnant. The noise that left her mouth after the realization caused Joe to look up from the electricity bill and over to her with a raised eyebrow. y/n smiling nervously and swallowing hard and playing it off as if she was shocked about the sitcom, and not the fact that she connected the dots.

The following day, she waited until Joe had gone to work to make a doctors appointment. Learning that same day that she was indeed with child. After being married with Joe for the past five years, she couldnt imagine anything better than having a baby. Especially having Joe Toye's baby.

That same day, she tried to figure out a way to tell Joe. However she did not know how. Maybe cooking a nice pork roast, with the recepie given to her by Joe's mom. And for dessert Joe's favorite: chocolate silk pie. Humming to herself she set the pork roast into the oven and stood back. only to hear the door of their home open, in came her tired husband after a hard day of work.

''hey honey'' she smiled as she walked towards the entrace of their home. He set down his jacket on the chair in the living room and gave her a tired smile.

"theres my girl'' he smiled as she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He reached down and placed a kiss on her cheek before embracing her. "whats in your oven?'' he asked, her eyes widening she choked on air and coughed loudly earning a concerned look from joe. He grabbed a hold of her waist and tried to help her from choking.

“My oven?” She asked, her voice a bit uneasy after the coughing fit. Joe slowly nodded and pointed to the kitchen.

“Yeah...dinner” he tried to clarify it a bit more, y/n understood what he was saying and nodded.

“O- oh dinner! Yeah just your ma’s pork roast.” She brushed it off as she pointed towards the kitchen with her thumb. Joe smiled and placed a kiss on her temple before passing by her and towards their living room.

*

It got harder after that, she didn’t tell him about the baby growing inside of her just yet. She let a week could go by, Joe didn’t seem to notice. Although he was becoming suspicious of the fact that she would wake up every morning at 6 am and run to the bathroom to throw up. Her excuse: food poisoning.

One night as they were getting ready for bed he noticed a big difference. She walked out of their bathroom as he tried to fix his watch. Glancing up he noticed she was wearing her nightgown, however there was a big difference.

“Wait when did that happen?” He asked setting the watch on his lap, y/n froze at the end of the bed and raised her eyebrow in question.

“When did what happen?” She asked, joe pointed to her chest and smirked. Y/n tried to play dumb, but she wanted him to notice. That way she would easily find a way to let him know she was carrying his child.

“That” he chuckled making y/n laugh nervously. She glanced down at her chest and back at joe who had a smirk on his face. “I like it” he shrugged making her roll her eyes at the comment. And again, she didn’t tell him.

*

Two days after that, at breakfast she served her self a mountain of scrambled eggs and hash browns. Joe watched closely as she set the plate down and started digging in. His eyes glued to her while he held his coffee mug in his hand. Y/n could feel his gaze on her, he was shocked more than anything.

“What?” She asked, as she slowly chewed and reached for her own coffee mug. Joe chuckled and shook his head before setting his own mug down.

“Nothing, it’s just like when people say ‘you’re eating for two—“ before he could finish y/n choked on a piece of potato and had yet again another coughing fit. Joe immediately patted her back as she reached for her coffee and took a drink to help. “Whoa, hey babe are you okay?” He asked, y/n only closed her eyes and swallowed hard. This was it, this was the moment she had been waiting for.

“Yeah...” she started and watched as he glanced down at his watch, his eye widening at the time.

“Crap I gotta get to work” he rushed as he grabbed a piece of toast, placing a kiss onto her forehead grabbed they rest of his stuff and started to head out to the door of their home “love you babe” he called out earning a small bye from her.

*

She had a second appointment that same day, just to check if she was doing alright. Going in for blood upon other tests she was finally taken into another room for an ultrasound. To the doctors surprise, there wasn’t a baby.

There were two of them.

The second the doctor told y/n that she was expecting twins, y/n felt a sudden rush with her. She was frozen in place not knowing how to react. Twins. Her and Joe were having twins.

That same night she waited for joe to come home, dinner was ready. The table was set and she changed into something more comfortable. Y/n held the small ultrasound picture in her fingertips and glanced down to see the two little beans. She placed the picture in the pocket of her apron the second she heard the door open. In came her tired husband, a smile on his face the second he saw his girl waiting for him.

“Hey baby” he smiled as she made his way towards her, pulling her close and pecking her lips. He noticed something was eating at her, just by the way she looked up at him. “Somethings wrong. What’s wrong?” He asked, panic taking over. Y/n bit her lip and tried to find the right words, the right thing to say. She couldn’t just blurt it out, she could but... she wouldn’t.

“Joe.. honey—“ she started but stopped herself, Joe taking a step back. His eyes roamed her face and watched as she bit the inside of her cheek. “Erm... remember this morning? You said something about that one saying?” She asked, joe raised an eyebrow in question and slowly nodded.

“The eating for two thing?” He asked his head cocking to the side as she gave him a small smile.

“Yeah! That” she pointed making Joe only more confused at why she was bringing it up. She hoped that maybe he would catch onto it, she loved the man to death but damn he was slow.

“What about it?” He asked looking away and back at her again, y/n groaned a bit and sighed before thinking of a way to explain.

“I’m not eating for two” she clarified, joe slowly nodded a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Right...” he trailed off and watched as y/n brought her hand up to the side of her face.

“I’m eating for three” she winced and closed her eyes before covering them with her hand. Joe only stood there with his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glued onto his loving wife. He was confused, didn’t understand what she was saying. That and maybe thinking what his reaction should be. Was this a joke? Should he laugh to make her feel better?

“I dont get it...” he slowly spoke, y/n opened her eyes and glanced up at him. Walking closer he placed her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Baby..?” He asked, slightly concerned as to why his wife was acting like this.

“Okay, look what I’m trying to say, my sweet, loving, slow, amazing husband.” Joe watched her as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant” she announced, Joe’s eyes widened at the words that had left her mouth. He chuckled, a wide grin spread onto his lips.

“You’re serious? There’s a little Toye in there?” He asked as he placed his hand onto her abdomen. Y/n smiled at him and shook her head, immediately Joe’s smile to fall “wha- what?” He asked

“There’s two little Toyes in there” she chuckled, joes mouth opened to speak. But there were no words that came out. Only a chuckle before placing both his hands onto her lower abdomen. Y/n sighed in relief the second he pulled her into a tight embrace.

[fullmetalscullyy]

chapter 11

this has been up on ao3 for a few days but i think ppl still only read this on here so here u go 💖

read on ao3

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

“What are you thinking about?”

Roy’s hand felt heavenly as it caressed the bare skin of her upper arm. She shivered in response but didn’t uncurl herself from her arm’s tight hold. Hugging her knees close as she lay on the mattress, she tried to rid herself of even more uncertainty and anxiety that had piled upon her since Mrs Henderson showed her true colours. In this bed with Roy, in this room, she was safe. It was her haven. There was no space for her worries here, and yet, they continued to plague her.

Bringing Roy into her bed was more than welcome. It was stupid. It was careless. However, in a moment of weakness, she wanted to be young and naïve once more. Too much had happened in the last few hours for her not to accept the care and comfort he’d never failed to show her.

“Everything,” Riza admitted.

“Anything I can do to help?” he offered.

Riza shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“That’s okay,” he replied kindly. A kiss was pressed to her bare shoulder. “Just let me know when you do.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. The idea he’d proposed of running away together toyed with temptation in the forefront of her mind. It would save her heartache. It would save her the stress and betrayal she was experiencing now. However, Riza wasn’t one to run away from her problems, no matter how much they overwhelmed her. Anyway, if she did agree, they would be hunted down wherever they went. No, wherever she went. Roy would be guilty by association.

Her head shifted, angling it so she could speak easier. Once she opened her mouth to speak, her speech caught in her throat. Roy’s hand moved lazily to her back. He drew patterns against it lightly with the backs of his knuckles. His touch was gentle and caring.

She was frozen ion place.

His fingers danced over her back. Unafraid. Undeterred.

He knew about the scars there. He was the only one living who did.

They were the result of a hit gone wrong in her younger years. Someone from the Bradley Family had tried to burn down their house. Roy had sneaked into her bedroom one night. The two were quietly playing together when a Molotov cocktail exploded in the middle of her old bedroom. Glass shattered everywhere, cutting into the skin of her back, slicing through her t-shirt, as fire caught on eagerly to anything that burned. Roy had hugged her close – he had matching marks on the backs of his hands, but they’d faded more than hers, Riza had noticed. He’d dragged her from the room as she bled and cried. Her mother had bundled her into her arms tightly, carrying her into her parent’s bedroom while Roy held her hand tightly.

A few months after that resulted in her mother’s death, and she never saw Roy for a long time after that.

“I was just thinking…” Riza ventured.

“Yes?”

“When my mother died…” She had to pause to swallow the lump in her throat. “And they kept us apart, did your mother ever threaten my life?”

“Not her,” he shook his head. “In fact, I don’t really remember what she said about it. I remember her being incredibly quiet as the news dropped. It was unnerving. But it was one of her Lieutenants that threatened me while I was alone. I was young and scared, so did it just in case, but I had always hated him.”

Riza curled further in on herself. “I thought that might have happened.”

“Not that it kept me far.”

“That was horrible,” she admitted. “Going from seeing you every day to not seeing you for years.”

“I know,” he murmured. “Not much could ever keep me away from you, though.”

“I thought you had to be the objective party?” she teased lightly, calling back to their conversation while he was interviewing her about her father. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Recently, I decided I didn’t want to anymore,” he replied. His hand ran from her shoulder, down to her elbow. Then, it slowly made its way back up, his fingers tickling her skin. “Not if it meant expelling you from my life.”

She should have been jumping for joy, but her future was still uncertain, especially now her mentor was out of her life. “You should want to stay away,” Riza whispered. “It’s for you own good.”

“My own good is being by your side.”

“Why?” She was both curious why he was so stubborn and why he seemed to think this was the best course of action.

“Because when I’m not, I worry about you constantly. Always have. I don’t intend to insinuate that you need protecting,” he shook his head. “You’re more than capable. However, I do love you, and I worry about you regardless. I want you to be happy, and I want to ease your struggles.” Another kiss was placed against her bare shoulder as his lips travelled up to her neck. “I want to help make you happy, Riza. I would marry you today, if I could, and if you wanted to.”

She froze.

A kiss was pressed to the skin underneath her ear and Riza shivered. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a part of your life. And damn all those who have kept us apart.”

Riza loosed the grip on her knees and rolled over slowly. She almost gasped at the love and care she witnessed with his eyes.

“You’d be tangling yourself up with this life again, though,” she breathed.

“I don’t care.” A kiss was pressed to her cheek.

“I dragged you back into this,” Riza sniffed. Even as she faced him, her shoulders rounded and Riza curled in on herself further. “I promised myself I wouldn’t.”

“I was already back in it,” Roy replied gently. He’d pushed himself up onto an elbow, looking down at her face. A hand came to rest upon her cheek gently. His thumb stroked the skin of her face.

She shook her head. “You weren’t –” she whispered.

“I was. I was fired.”

She paused. “What?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Hakuro, my CO, works for the Bradleys. Apparently, I was deemed “unfit for work”.” Roy snorted. “They fired me the day I came to see you.”

“Why?” Riza asked, outraged. She pushed herself to a sitting position.

“Because I wouldn’t let the Bradleys buy me? Because I’m a Mustang? Because I was trying to help you?” That last part made Riza swallow thickly. “It could be any of the three, or all of them combined,” he shrugged.

“That’s not fair on you,” she frowned.

“Like I said, I don’t care. Not if that’s their attitude. I tried my best and got paid in dirt. I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now than fighting a losing battle of injustice. That can come later. You need me first.” His eyes were determined and unafraid. Riza could only wish she could drum up the same sentiment as him.

It felt like life was pulling her in two different directions. Keep Roy safe and keep him away, or embrace the love, comfort, and support he offered her unconditionally. She was stuck completely, unsure what to do. Apparently, it showed on her face.

“What do you want, Riza?” Roy asked suddenly. It broke her from her thoughts. His hand gripped hers tightly in the space between their bodies.

“What?”

“What do you want to do?” he asked simply. “I get the feeling duty has won out more than once,” he added. “But you deserve to be in control of your own life.”

“I want you to be safe,” she whispered.

“We can do that. Together.” His tone was determined. That familiar, confident smirk on his face. It jolted Riza back to their childhood when that look wasn’t far from his face as he tried to show off for her. “We can watch each other’s backs.”

“But what if I’m not good enough?” It was a fear she’d always held within her heart. Not that she didn’t think she was capable, but because she feared he would be used against her through methods beyond her control.

“There’s no one I trust more in life than you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “What if you get used against me? Because of who I am?”

“I’ve been used against my mother countless times. It’s a risk of carrying this name. But what if…” Roy trailed off and it caused Riza to glance at him, to see what he was thinking.

“What?”

“What if we combined both families?”

“How?” Her brow furrowed, trying to determine what he meant.

“What if we got married?”

Time seemed to stand still completely. Riza couldn’t move or breathe. Her heart screamed this was what she wanted but her mind held her back.

“I – I don’t know,” she stammered.

“Okay…” Roy trailed off and she cringed, thinking she’d offended him. She didn’t want him to withdraw his offer no matter how loud the voice in her head protested it. “Well, let’s start with something simpler. What do you want, Riza?” he asked. “What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?” His question was soft. The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. His love poured out of his eyes, shrouding her in a warm blanket that made her the happiest she’d felt in a long time.

In that moment, Riza knew her answer.

“Anywhere you are,” was her quiet, truthful reply.

[raywritesthings]

Weasley & Black: Dark Object Removal

My Writing Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Ginny Weasley, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Molly Weasley Summary: Ginny can't explain why she gets the same feeling around that old locket that she did around the diary, but one night she enlists Sirius' help in figuring it out. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

Ginny didn’t know why the drawing room tended to give her more shivers than the rest of Grimmauld Place. It wasn’t as if any other part of the house looked more welcoming than in here. Maybe it was the curtains drawn over every window, the drawers containing who knew how many objects of varying danger or toxicity, the writing desk that rattled any time someone drew near.

She had to wonder what it would be like growing up in a house with a bunch of objects with dark magic lying about where anyone could find them. The twins would’ve gotten into everything and probably tried to use some on Percy, she thought. Her amusement faded when she thought about herself growing up and finding a dark object lying about in her cauldron for her to find. No, this wasn’t a funny house at all. She didn’t mind her mum’s fanatical drive to remove the whole lot of it so much once that thought entered her mind.

After they cleared the drawing room of everything that was old, broken or dangerous, it was as if a weighted blanket lifted off her, one she’d been unknowingly wearing every time she stepped into the room. Ginny told herself it was one of the objects, probably that music box that had nearly sent them all to sleep. It was normal to feel that way around stuff like that.

But why was she the only one who had seemed to? Why did it feel so similar to the creeping dread she had felt more and more with every time she’d opened that damned diary?

It was hard, sometimes, pretending that year had had no effect on her. She’d thought she’d gotten pretty good at maintaining the ruse, even with herself. But this house with its snake motifs everywhere and the dark mutterings of the House Elf who dwelled in it was just getting to her.

She tried to pass the time on other things. Playing with Crookshanks or bothering the twins. Her brothers had charmed their door shut for the afternoon, probably working on something they didn’t want their mum happening across, and Crookshanks was curled up on Hermione’s lap while she forced Harry and Ron to finish their homework. She likely thought it would help take Harry’s mind off his upcoming hearing, though Ginny doubted that very much.

Ginny was already done with her own summer work, having less than the incoming fifth years, so she’d wandered down into the kitchen for a snack, finding Sirius there spinning a bottle cap on the table like it was a top.

“Any left?” She asked upon noticing the Butterbeer label on the cap. 

He nodded to the cold cupboard. “You’ve earned it. Reckon that was pretty smart slamming the lid on that music box.”

She shrugged. “You saved Harry from those creepy tweezers or whatever they were.“

“That’s my job,” he said simply, though he sat up a little straighter with pride. He liked being complimented for things regarding Harry, Ginny had noticed. A part of her wished she didn’t relate to that so strongly.

“Then we ought to go into business. Fred and George are already starting young, so I’ve got to keep up.” Ginny popped the cap off her bottle and took a swig.

“Weasley and Black, Dark Object Removal,” Sirius said with a grin. “Best to keep my name off it, of course.”

“You’ll be my silent partner.”

Before Sirius could reply, her mother bustled into the room with a number of bags floating ahead of her. “Ginny, can you take these down to the pantry? I won’t need them until tomorrow,” she said, passing her some of the shopping.

“Sure, mum.” Ginny set her Butterbeer down and went into the pantry. And as she passed by a dingy-looking door, it happened again. That sense of dread was back.

Ginny froze. She’d been in the pantry countless times before this since they’d arrived at Grimmauld Place. Why was this happening now?

“You get lost in here or something?”

Ginny jumped and spun around to face Sirius, who had apparently been tasked with bags of his own to deliver. “Oh, no. Just thought… never mind.” She hurried out of the pantry and took another gulp of her drink sitting on the kitchen table, letting the warmth of the Butterbeer chase the chill that seemed to cling to her.

Ginny did her best to push it out of her mind. She was just being paranoid. Surely there wasn’t anything dangerous about the pantry; the Blacks would have had to have been mad to put potentially deadly things in there. Then again, as she passed by Mrs. Black’s sleeping portrait, maybe they were that mad.

She successfully forgot about it until after Harry’s hearing. While she would have been quite happy to continue celebrating with the twins, her mother sent her to fetch sauce from the pantry for dinner.

The feeling returned. “Hell,” Ginny muttered. What was wrong with her? She knew the diary was gone, and the idea that there could be anything else out there like it was too terrible to consider. What were the chances that she of all people would come across it again?

Maybe it was something wrong with her. Maybe she was drawn to this sort of thing.

Or maybe, Ginny told herself, there’s something evil here because this is the Black family home and Lucius Malfoy married directly into it.

That seemed far more likely to her.

“Ginny!” Her mum shouted from the kitchen, startling her.

“Coming,” she called back, tearing her eyes away from the door on the far side of the pantry and grabbing up the sauce.

She didn’t get the chance to go back to the pantry that evening; Kingsley had stopped by for dinner, and that apparently meant an impromptu meeting with the Order members present. Ginny was sent sulking up to her room along with the rest of the students. Hermione stayed up for another hour reading, but long after she had blown out the candle and Ginny’s parents’ footsteps had been heard going up the stairs, Ginny found herself unable to sleep.

She needed to know what was causing this sense within her. She couldn’t live in this house a minute longer with goose flesh crawling up her arms and chills running down her spine. And the best thing to do was confront it before it moved location again.

Decided, Ginny rolled out of bed and found her slippers with her feet in the dark. She crept downstairs into the dimly-lit kitchen.

Only a single occupant remained. Sirius, seated at the table and reading what Ginny recognized as a copy of The Quibbler. Luna would be chuffed, probably.

“Stubby Boardman,” she heard him mutter with a chuckle.

“Er, hey.” She knew she couldn’t exactly get past to the pantry without his notice, so Ginny thought it best not to startle him. Sirius looked round, seeming surprised by her presence. “I just needed something.”

When she went past the cupboards and to the pantry door, however, he got up and followed her. “Needed what, exactly?”

Ginny hesitated. “What’s behind that door?”

“Kreacher’s quarters. Why?”

She blinked. Why would she suddenly have a bad feeling about Kreacher — worse than what she’d already had, at any rate. “I dunno. I just… this is going to sound a bit mad.”

“Well, they say Azkaban turns you mad, so I’ve probably heard them all. Go on.”

“Right.” It felt strange having to explain this to somebody. She was used to the people in her life knowing and simply ignoring or skirting around it. “Well, in my first year, Lucius Malfoy slipped a cursed diary into my school things, and it… it was evil. Really evil. I didn’t realize until it was too late, until it had a hold on me, and I’ll always remember the sort of danger it gave off.”

“You’re attuned to it.”

“I guess. It’s probably in my head.”

He shook his head. “The real trouble with Dark Magic is that it leaves traces. It never quite goes away.”

Ginny stared into his shadowed eyes and faint face and gulped. He really would know better than most, wouldn’t he?

“Right. Well, I noticed I was getting that same feeling here, in the drawing room until we cleaned it out. But now, it’s more coming from over there.”

He followed her pointed finger to the door, scowling. “Kreacher must have salvaged whatever was up there causin it. We’ll see if we can figure out which it is and give it to Mad Eye to have him deal with.”

Ginny approached as he yanked open the door.

The tiny room was mostly taken up by a large boiler, but in the corner there was what she supposed could be called a den. Kreacher lay in a ball on a pile of fabric scraps, curled around a golden locket Ginny recognized. They’d cleared it out of the drawing room, one of the easiest items to move. It always was the most innocuous looking things, wasn’t it?

“Kreacher will keep it safe, Master Regulus,” the House Elf murmured reverently. “Safe until Kreacher can follow Master’s commands.”

“Follow this command,” Sirius snarled. “Let go of that locket, Kreacher.”

Kreacher’s eyes bulged as he was compelled to, and the Elf gave a pitiable wail when Sirius snatched it up by the fine gold chain. “But Master Regulus—”

“Isn’t here anymore. Now stay in your room for the rest of the night.”

He slammed the door on Kreacher’s face and led her back into the kitchen where they wouldn’t have to listen to the cries and curses coming from the den.

“If this was Regulus’ then it’s definitely cursed. He was a Death Eater, died during the last war.”

“So he could’ve gotten it from, er, his leader?” Ginny looked down, slightly ashamed of herself. She knew Sirius proudly said the name, but it had just been such an ingrained part of her life growing up.

“He could have. Why do you think that in particular?”

“Because the diary Lucius Malfoy slipped in my things belonged to, to Tom Riddle. That was his real name when he attended school.”

“Voldemort’s?”

She nodded. “He was still in the diary. Or a ghost of him or part of him or something. I don’t know what it was exactly. He was using my life force to try and resurrect himself, and if Harry hadn’t stopped him,” Ginny said all in a great rush. She still felt so stupid and silly just thinking about it.

“Ginny, hang on,” Sirius said gently. “You’re saying that this locket might be Voldemort’s, and it might possess someone like the diary did to you?”

“I don’t know if it will. But it’s got his symbol, doesn’t it?” She pointed at the S inlaid on the lid, the design clearly meant to invoke a snake. “The Heir of Slytherin.”

Sirius regarded it darkly. “Then we can’t wait for Mad Eye.” He set the locket on the stone floor, and together they backed up a few feet. “Reducto!”

Nothing happened. Sirius frowned and tried again, then with a series of spells more and more complicated and powerful. Some Ginny had heard of, some she had not. The locket remained unchanged.

“It must have protections against spell damage,” he decided.

“When I had the diary, it couldn’t be damaged either, by spells or trying to rip it. I flushed it down a toilet one time, and it still came back up.” Even though Sirius’ lips twitched at the imagery, he didn’t laugh at her, which she was grateful for. “Harry was able to destroy it with a Basilisk fang.”

“That would probably be the venom more than the fang. Basilisk venom is supposed to be very potent, and rare. But hang on a minute.” His eyes seemed to cloud over as he grew lost in thought. Then his limbs were seized in animation. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

But Sirius was already running out of the pantry and to the stairs, taking them two at a time. He surprised her with the energy he had even at this time of night.

It was all Ginny could do to keep up, staggering into his back when he suddenly stopped in the middle of a hall.

“A warning might have been nice.”

“Sorry,” he said in an offhand way, not really meaning it. That might have rankled, but it had been a minor offense. She watched him run his hands over the ceiling, fingertips just able to reach.

He found the catch he’d apparently been looking for and pulled down a section of the ceiling to reveal a step ladder that had seen better days.

“Will it hold?”

Sirius took out his wand and performed a couple different charms. “Now it should. Up we go. Or just me, if you like.”

Ginny shook her head. “I have to see this through.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sirius grinned at her. “Good.”

He led the way up to an attic dustier than the rest of the house had already been. It took them a few minutes to find a lamp they could light to see by. Ginny ducked under cobwebs to get over to a chest of drawers Sirius seemed particularly interested in.

“What are we looking for?”

“A jewelry box. A specific one, mind. My Aunt Lucretia’s.” He began pulling out drawers and looking at the jewelry boxes stored inside. Some were embossed with initials, others had different symbols. “Before she married, her father gifted her a ring that supposedly held a bit of basilisk venom.”

Ginny looked up at his face in shock. “What in Merlin’s twisted undershirt would he do that for?”

“To protect her, supposedly, by warding off any particularly pushy suitors who weren’t her betrothed. She never used it, of course.”

“She’d have gone to Azkaban for murder if she had,” Ginny said.

He nodded. “Right. And she would’ve fit right in. The point being, if the ring is here and still works, all we have to do is open it up and get the venom on the locket.” He seized a box done in a very dark wood. “Here!”

Ginny watched as he sorted through the bits and pieces of jewelry inside, at last producing a ring with what looked to be a green stone overtop. She supposed it was really just a sort of cap. Ginny thought she could see the liquid inside; it made the colors in the stone seem to shift around.

He held the ring out to her. “You’ll have to put this on.”

“Why me?”

“Because it won’t work unless it’s worn, and my fingers are too big.” Sirius reached out and clasped her shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’re pureblood. And you’ve got Black on both sides.”

Ginny stared at the ring, then looked back up at him. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I remember Aunt Lucretia bragging about this old thing as if it were yesterday, she did it so often.”

Ginny took a breath. “Okay.” She took the ring and slid it onto her finger, relieved when nothing happened. Sirius set the locket on a cedar chest and she held her hand over it palm up so that the stone was pointing down towards it.

“How does it open?”

“You’ll have to speak the family motto.”

“What is it again?”

Sirius’ mouth twisted in a frown as he recited, “Toujours Pur.”

“Toujours Pur,” Ginny repeated. The hatch on the ring popped open, and as the stone lifted away a deep green liquid poured out, hitting the locket.

Immediately, it became clear it had had some effect. Where the venom made contact it began to bubble and hiss, the metal of the locket seeming to melt away under it to reveal the inside. Ginny thought they caught sight of a single red eye with black slits instead of pupils before there was a terrible, unearthly shriek and a cloud of black mist rose from it before dissipating.

Ginny wrenched the ring off her finger and dropped it on the chest as she backed away, meeting Sirius’ wide eyes.

“That was him,” she said in a whisper. She was sure of it.

“You were right,” Sirius breathed. He moved around the chest to grip her shoulders, and Ginny didn’t realize until then that she had been shaking. “You were right, Ginny. And you did something about it. You beat him.”

“I did.” A smile rose tentatively to her face, one echoed by Sirius. “I finally did.”

Shouts from down below and footsteps registered. Apparently they’d woken the whole house.

“Harry, careful!” Her mum called out over the creaking of the ladder.

Harry’s head cleared the entrance to the attic, his glasses slightly askew as though he’d jammed them on and run headlong into danger. “Sirius! Ginny?” He clambered the rest of the way up. “What’s going on?”

“Er…” She didn’t even know how to start explaining. Would he think it strange that she’d happened upon two of Voldemort’s cursed possessions? Wasn’t it strange that Voldemort had two cursed possessions holding some impression of his very self? What even were they?

Sirius squeezed her shoulder. “Just Weasley and Black, Dark Object Removal. Afraid the business hours are a bit unusual.” He threw a wink her way, then conjured up a glove to safely pluck the ring off the cedar chest. Then he headed to the ladder. “All fine up here. Sorry to wake you.”

“Is that that locket none of us could open?” Harry asked her quietly, frowning down at it.

“It is. But don’t worry, Harry,” Ginny told him. “It’s only a memory now.”

He looked up sharply, seeming to catch her meaning, but Ginny went to the step ladder. She’d be happy to explain and to wonder about just what the diary and the locket had been later; right now, she just wanted her bed.

She thought she might finally have a truly restful sleep.

[wishfuledarchive]

[ sofia carson. cisfemale. demisexual.] wearable art and a fresh manicure always remind me of sojourner ‘georgie’ avara, who happens to be a twenty four year old art history + restoration student. they are known for being alluring and selfish which probably explains why they are into impact play & service submission. 

this is long just so y’all know before you even start, if you make it through this whole thing you deserve all the good things in the universe. smash that heart & i’ll slide in your dms for plots. this applies for all of the intros that will be posted following this one. before liking please make sure you’ve read my intros and have some idea of where you’d like the plots to go before liking, if you need ideas there are a bunch listed at the end of their intros ! ♡ 

backstory 

           Sojourner Avara was born to Amelia and Javier Avara. He was an investment banker and financial advisor to some of the most powerful people in the city. She was a journalist from America who moved abroad to work at La Paris Journal, she thought she’d be doing hard hitting ground breaking journalist but has spent most of her career writing puff pieces. Just as Amelia was ready to cut her losses and move back home she met Javi. He was sweet, charming, funny and instantly she fell for him. They were married after a year of dating and a few months later they found out they were expecting their first and only child, any dreams Amelia had of leaving the city were banished with the first kick of her baby. From the moment she was born Javier was certain that Georgie would do great things. Without a second thought to the jump in he moved their family from their rundown apartment in the heart of the city to a multi bedroom palace in the suburban paradise to give her a chance to blend in with those from High Society. He started her training young, enrolling her in the same preschools as them, using the same nannies, tutors even maids as them.

           Growing up Georgie loved her life, they went to events, luncheons and even Christmas parties by some of the oldest families in the city. Everytime she had to meet a new person her father would lavish her in new dresses, shoes and hairbows it made her feel like a princess. She loved going to their homes that seemed like castles, she’d always find time to slip away and wall down the grand halls of their homes in awe of their family portraits some dating back to the start of the city. She knew that that’s what she wanted, to leave behind a legacy for her family. Something they could be proud of, passed down from generation to generation so that even a hundred years from now someone like her would be standing in the position she was, staring up at a portrait of her. She was a child then, she didn’t understand that to be apart of this club, she had to be born in. 

          At age thirteen the real world came crashing into Georgie’s life for the first time. She’d gotten an A on an essay that she and her father had stayed up all night working on, he’d read and reread it so many times that he could say it outloud to her by heart. Instead of going home she begged her driver to take her to her father’s office instead. The guards all smiled when she arrived, walking with her to the elevator and buzzing her onto her father’s floor she waved to everyone in the office as if she was a princess in a parade as she made her way down the hall. It didn’t seem strange to her that his secretary wasn’t out front until she barged into his office and found her pinned against a wall while her father was hastily unbuttoning her shirt. She froze, so did he. They both just stared at the other for a moment before his secretary broke away and hastily fixed her shirt as she scurried out the door. How could he do something like this? To her, to her mother? She wanted to push him out of the window and see if he’d survive the twenty story fall. He forced Georgie to promise to keep what she saw to herself, that mama would be very mad at her if she said anything. Wanting to keep the peace, to keep her family in tact. She stayed silent. Though her relationship with her father was never the same. 

          Two years later things went from bad to worse. There were rumors floating around about Javier, how clients were coming in to talk about their portfolios and him not having anything to show them, being unable to take out money they’d invested that he said had turned a profit and then one day, like smoke. He was gone. Before he could be arrested he’d disappeared into the night with over five million dollars. Leaving Amelia to raise Georgie with no money and a tarnished reputation. All of the connections she’d made with those in high society were gone, many of her friends parents had invested money with her father and now as a result, wanted nothing to do with her. It was a harsh reality that switched a light in the young girl. She could remember having conversations with her father where he told her that money was the only thing that mattered, and he was right. The instant their money was gone, so was her life. 

          Amelia was forced to take Georgie out of her private school, sell their house and move back the city. She didn’t want to make it harder for her mother so she didn’t say anything, she didn’t complain as her dresses began to fade, she didn’t ask for new clothes, she swallowed the food that tasted like dust and she locked her ball of rage in a box and tucked it deep within herself. Deciding instead to control as much of her life as she could. Refusing to allow herself to wind up in an another chaotic situation. Her mother quickly remarried and almost overnight the life Georgie knew was back, to a degree. They moved from Paris to her mother’s hometown in Austin, Texas. She didn’t have to worry about food, or shelter. She got to buy whatever she wanted and even go back to private school.

         It’s been over ten years since her father disappeared. She doesn’t think about him anymore but he’s had more influence over her life than she’d like to admit. His desire to be financially stable, to be successful, to be the best of the best is embedded so deeply into her subconscious that it rules her every move. 

personality 

Is very bossy, thinks they know everything, is naturally a leader but can be a bit overbearing and forceful however she’s mad ambitious, she has big plans for herself and her career and she won’t stop until she’s at the top

Understands that the key to success is to NETWORK so social relationships are very important to her, she goes through a lot of hoops to make sure that her image is always up to par 

Constantly stalking social media, all of which is perfectly curated btw 

Honestly she doesn’t like conflict, she’s not the type of girl who will start a fight with someone or put someone down purposely. She wants peace and harmony for everyone. 

She’s a wee bit sensitive, like yell at her and she will probably not act like it bothers her but then go to the bathroom and cry. She’s especially sensitive to criticism!! 

While she is very emotional, her emotions take precedence over everything else. If she feels something she has to get it off her chest right away so she can move on with the rest of her day without being upset.  

She’s got v expensive tastes, she’s always been drawn to beauty and the finer things in life - it’s why she fell in love with art at a young age 

Though she is ambitious she’s not aggressive in the way she goes about it, she’s more of the charm the pants off of anyone and everyone around her so of course she gets the opportunity you wanted

Very responsible, organized, trustworthy (at times), she’ll rarely jump to conclusions or take uneducated risks 

Might not always show it but she’s very loyal to the people she cares about

She’s naturally trustworthy, and doesn’t have much patience for those who don't show respect for others, who take foolish risks, and who lead disorganized lives.

Suffers from inner tension and negative, self-destructive behavior - when things are going well, she constantly fears that something will come along to change that (naturally this becomes a self fulfilling prophecy)

She puts a lot of pressure on herself when it comes to her endeavors and because of this tends to feel immensely dissatisfied with herself and her accomplishments, she’s honestly never satisfied when it comes to anything she does there’s always something she could have done better. 

She doesn’t feel like she can show her real self to anyone, and tbh she doesn’t even know who her “real” self is anymore - maybe she never did in the first place 

Has an extreme fear of losing control, as such, she can be intensely fearful of, or threatened by, change. 

She's most comfortable with the darker side of her nature than the lighter aspects. 

Super impatient, she lives life in the moment and waiting for something to happen is like waiting for death. 

She’s very much so in her head, at times she’ll intellectualize her emotions instead of feeling them. She doesn’t do anything without planning it out so she hella doesn’t get people who’ve committed crimes of passion or excessively emotional 

She'll rarely sulk or play any drawn-out games of manipulation, you can pretty much know what she'll want at any given time.

She is a sexual person but she needs to have an emotional connection to feel sexually fulfilled - her intellectual nature allows her to have casual sexual connections which she often uses to advance her career

Venus in Pisces people project themselves as dreamy, soft-hearted partners. Everything about the way they flirt promises a lovely time. Theirs is an elusive charm -- they are sweetly playful, a little moody, and perhaps a little irregular. They appreciate romance and poetry, and they prefer to "feel out" both you and the relationship you share, so don't expect too much planning ahead.

wanted connections 

enemies / rivals 

friends turned enemies 

friends who only like georgie bc she’s the queen bee 

friends who want to overthrow her 

forced friends (i.e their parents are bffs so we have to hang out but idk if i actually like you)

lab partner 

drinking / partying buddies bonus points if they only get along while fucked up - this could also be romantic tbh

dance team members bonus points if your chara needs help w/ dance and georgie is just determined to make them good 

dance partner 

someone who knows about georgie’s dad and is blackmailing her (no one at ulysses knows abt her dad but this muse)

the reckless muse who drags perfect lil georgie into mess 24/7

the muse who just wants to know georgie and she’s keeping them 10 ft away at all times bc NO YOU CANT KNOW ABOUT MY PAST SO STAWP ASKING 

georgie thinks your muse hates them, or vice versa and they share a cigarette/drink/cab late at night and find out that’s not true 

someone who has a crush on georgie & she takes advantage of that (makes them help her w/ homework, buy her coffee, carry her books etc but does noTHING for them)